I am perfectly ambivalent about Wide Sargasso Sea. Every reaction I had to the book is balanced by its opposite reaction: • The moody, languid prose captured the tropical setting; I longed for a more direct narrative. • The switches in perspective deepened the relationships among the characters; it was frustratingly difficult to track who was saying what and when they were saying it. • The themes of madness, alcoholism, cruelty, and love were fascinating; the characters were all horrible and it was awful to watch them destroy themselves and each other. • The connection between the heroine and the insane wife in Jane Eyre is an inspired literary device; the tie-in with Jane Eyre is a manipulative gimmick. See what I mean? Everything I like about the book, I dislike about the book. Equipoise. But it made it to both the Modern Library and Radcliffe lists of best novels of the 20th century, so the half of me that disliked the book is at least pleased to have accomplished two tasks.
Monday, May 18, 2009
Re-Run of the Day: Wide Sargasso Sea
While in Boston for my step daughter's graduation from medical school, I am re-running a couple of earlier reviews. This one was first posted on November 22, 2008. I am perfectly ambivalent about Wide Sargasso Sea. Every reaction I had to the book is balanced by its opposite reaction: • The moody, languid prose captured the tropical setting; I longed for a more direct narrative. • The switches in perspective deepened the relationships among the characters; it was frustratingly difficult to track who was saying what and when they were saying it. • The themes of madness, alcoholism, cruelty, and love were fascinating; the characters were all horrible and it was awful to watch them destroy themselves and each other. • The connection between the heroine and the insane wife in Jane Eyre is an inspired literary device; the tie-in with Jane Eyre is a manipulative gimmick. See what I mean? Everything I like about the book, I dislike about the book. Equipoise. But it made it to both the Modern Library and Radcliffe lists of best novels of the 20th century, so the half of me that disliked the book is at least pleased to have accomplished two tasks.
I am perfectly ambivalent about Wide Sargasso Sea. Every reaction I had to the book is balanced by its opposite reaction: • The moody, languid prose captured the tropical setting; I longed for a more direct narrative. • The switches in perspective deepened the relationships among the characters; it was frustratingly difficult to track who was saying what and when they were saying it. • The themes of madness, alcoholism, cruelty, and love were fascinating; the characters were all horrible and it was awful to watch them destroy themselves and each other. • The connection between the heroine and the insane wife in Jane Eyre is an inspired literary device; the tie-in with Jane Eyre is a manipulative gimmick. See what I mean? Everything I like about the book, I dislike about the book. Equipoise. But it made it to both the Modern Library and Radcliffe lists of best novels of the 20th century, so the half of me that disliked the book is at least pleased to have accomplished two tasks.
Sunday, May 17, 2009
Re-Run of the Day: In Hovering Flight
While in Boston for my step daughter's graduation from medical school, I am re-running a couple of earlier reviews. This one was first posted on December 3, 2008.
The characters in Joyce Hinnefeld’s first novel, In Hovering Flight, fall into two teams that could be called “the Artists” and “the Suits.” The Artists include the heroine, Addie Sturmer Kavanagh, an avid birder, artist, and environmental activist; her husband Tom, a literature-loving ornithology professor; their daughter Scarlet, a poet; Addie’s two best friends; and various supporters, fans, and hangers-on. The Suits include Addie’s archenemy, a big-shot land developer; corporations; Republican Senators; publishers; college administrators; and the like.
All these characters come into play, directly or through recollection, as Addie’s loved ones gather to mourn her recent death and consider her dying wishes, some of which are unorthodox or even illegal. Hinnefeld’s writing is elegant and she tells an emotionally complex, multi-layered tale.
The problem is that the Artists are all good and the Suits are all bad. Sure, there is some variation and even tension among the Artists themselves. There is the acknowledgement that Addie’s “moral superiority” puts off her loved ones; that some of her ardor may stem from untreated depression rather than healthy concern; and that her fellow activists may be too extreme. But the Artists are fundamentally right in their interests and outlook. The Suits (none fleshed out as characters) range from evil fiends to buffoons. There is absolutely no question about which team we are expected to root for.
Just as the issues are clear to Hinnefeld, team membership is as well. There is no crossover, except as object lessons. For example, the scientific side of Tom’s profession and character is shown in poor contrast to Tom as a writer, musician, and lover of bird songs. Likewise, although Scarlet’s first love Bobby suffers adolescent tragedy, it is his involvement with corporate America that brings him close to death – both slowly with alcohol and quickly with an office in the World Trade Center on 9/11. Bobby is redeemed only when he abandons the world of the Suits and returns to the Artists’ fold.
Hinnefeld means well, that is clear. In Hovering Flight is an earnest novel dealing with heavy subjects (cancer, death, environmental degradation, art, infidelity, autism, motherhood, and suicide, for instance). But Hinnefeld offers no sugar to help the medicine go down. The book is devoid of any humor: there are no jokes, quips, or even wry observations. The book takes itself too seriously and comes across as the same sort of smug, self-righteous lecture Addie herself was wont to give.
The characters in Joyce Hinnefeld’s first novel, In Hovering Flight, fall into two teams that could be called “the Artists” and “the Suits.” The Artists include the heroine, Addie Sturmer Kavanagh, an avid birder, artist, and environmental activist; her husband Tom, a literature-loving ornithology professor; their daughter Scarlet, a poet; Addie’s two best friends; and various supporters, fans, and hangers-on. The Suits include Addie’s archenemy, a big-shot land developer; corporations; Republican Senators; publishers; college administrators; and the like.
All these characters come into play, directly or through recollection, as Addie’s loved ones gather to mourn her recent death and consider her dying wishes, some of which are unorthodox or even illegal. Hinnefeld’s writing is elegant and she tells an emotionally complex, multi-layered tale.
The problem is that the Artists are all good and the Suits are all bad. Sure, there is some variation and even tension among the Artists themselves. There is the acknowledgement that Addie’s “moral superiority” puts off her loved ones; that some of her ardor may stem from untreated depression rather than healthy concern; and that her fellow activists may be too extreme. But the Artists are fundamentally right in their interests and outlook. The Suits (none fleshed out as characters) range from evil fiends to buffoons. There is absolutely no question about which team we are expected to root for.
Just as the issues are clear to Hinnefeld, team membership is as well. There is no crossover, except as object lessons. For example, the scientific side of Tom’s profession and character is shown in poor contrast to Tom as a writer, musician, and lover of bird songs. Likewise, although Scarlet’s first love Bobby suffers adolescent tragedy, it is his involvement with corporate America that brings him close to death – both slowly with alcohol and quickly with an office in the World Trade Center on 9/11. Bobby is redeemed only when he abandons the world of the Suits and returns to the Artists’ fold.
Hinnefeld means well, that is clear. In Hovering Flight is an earnest novel dealing with heavy subjects (cancer, death, environmental degradation, art, infidelity, autism, motherhood, and suicide, for instance). But Hinnefeld offers no sugar to help the medicine go down. The book is devoid of any humor: there are no jokes, quips, or even wry observations. The book takes itself too seriously and comes across as the same sort of smug, self-righteous lecture Addie herself was wont to give.
Saturday, May 16, 2009
Re-Run of the Day: So Many Books, So Little Time
While in Boston for my step daughter's graduation from medical school, I am re-running a couple of earlier reviews. This one was first posted on December 18, 2008.
Sara Nelson had a great idea for a book lover’s book: She would spend one year (2002) reading a book a week and writing about it, compiling her efforts in So Many Books, So Little Time: A Year of Passionate Reading. Although she started off with a list of 26 or so books that she wanted to read, there was not a lot of rhyme to her reason. She did not have a definitive list like Pulitzer Prize Winners, or Books I Meant to Read in College But Never Did, or anything like that. She ended up choosing the books each week in a pretty spontaneous fashion.
Likewise, she did not have a formula for how she wanted to write about the books. She did not want to simply write reviews of the books she read. She wanted to write about each book’s connection to her personal life, such as what was going on in her life that made her chose a particular book, personal views that made her react to a book in a certain way, or memories a book conjured.
In keeping with her theme, I considered my own personal connections with So Many Books as well as the books Nelson read. As she described, I decided I would try “matching up the reading experience with the personal one and watching where they intersect – or don’t.”
There were a lot of intersections. Following Nelson’s bibliophile footsteps led me through familiar territory. For example, she and I share an aversion to over-hyped books (White Teeth and Everything is Illuminated are two we both avoided), we both think Philip Roth is the cat’s pajamas, and we had the exact same reaction to Anthony Bourdain when we read Kitchen Confidential (hard crush followed by exasperation and a desire to break up – although he and I have since reconciled over The Nasty Bits).
And there several places where are reading paths did not cross. Unlike Nelson, I very rarely abandon a book once I start it. I can think of only two – A Frolic of His Own and some V.I. Warshawski mystery. Nelson seems to favor contemporary novels and does not share my taste for nineteenth century books (although it is hard to tell from just one year of reading). Nor does she share my compulsion for prize winners and “must read” lists.
But the biggest personal jolt I got from So Many Books was realizing that Nelson is living the life I, as an English Lit major back in the ‘80s, had planned for myself. She lives in New York – in Greenwich Village no less – where she works for a magazine and writes books. She married an interesting man at a reasonable age and has one child. That is pretty much what I had in mind for myself until, a month before college graduation, my life took a turn for the old-fashioned when I fell in love with a local newspaper reporter and stayed in Portland, where we married at what now seems the ridiculous age of 23.
Of course, had I gone to New York, my life would have been different, but not better. I would not have gone to law school, so I would not now have a profession I find enormously satisfying, I would not have met and (after taking a marital Mulligan) married my adored husband, and on and on. It’s not like I sit around pondering what my life would have been like had I followed my original post-college plans, but reading Nelson’s book really stirred up some memories and a few what-might-have-been fantasies.
Which was what Nelson hoped would happen. She wanted to write about how books “get to” her personally. Hers certainly got to me.
Sara Nelson had a great idea for a book lover’s book: She would spend one year (2002) reading a book a week and writing about it, compiling her efforts in So Many Books, So Little Time: A Year of Passionate Reading. Although she started off with a list of 26 or so books that she wanted to read, there was not a lot of rhyme to her reason. She did not have a definitive list like Pulitzer Prize Winners, or Books I Meant to Read in College But Never Did, or anything like that. She ended up choosing the books each week in a pretty spontaneous fashion.
Likewise, she did not have a formula for how she wanted to write about the books. She did not want to simply write reviews of the books she read. She wanted to write about each book’s connection to her personal life, such as what was going on in her life that made her chose a particular book, personal views that made her react to a book in a certain way, or memories a book conjured.
In keeping with her theme, I considered my own personal connections with So Many Books as well as the books Nelson read. As she described, I decided I would try “matching up the reading experience with the personal one and watching where they intersect – or don’t.”
There were a lot of intersections. Following Nelson’s bibliophile footsteps led me through familiar territory. For example, she and I share an aversion to over-hyped books (White Teeth and Everything is Illuminated are two we both avoided), we both think Philip Roth is the cat’s pajamas, and we had the exact same reaction to Anthony Bourdain when we read Kitchen Confidential (hard crush followed by exasperation and a desire to break up – although he and I have since reconciled over The Nasty Bits).
And there several places where are reading paths did not cross. Unlike Nelson, I very rarely abandon a book once I start it. I can think of only two – A Frolic of His Own and some V.I. Warshawski mystery. Nelson seems to favor contemporary novels and does not share my taste for nineteenth century books (although it is hard to tell from just one year of reading). Nor does she share my compulsion for prize winners and “must read” lists.
But the biggest personal jolt I got from So Many Books was realizing that Nelson is living the life I, as an English Lit major back in the ‘80s, had planned for myself. She lives in New York – in Greenwich Village no less – where she works for a magazine and writes books. She married an interesting man at a reasonable age and has one child. That is pretty much what I had in mind for myself until, a month before college graduation, my life took a turn for the old-fashioned when I fell in love with a local newspaper reporter and stayed in Portland, where we married at what now seems the ridiculous age of 23.
Of course, had I gone to New York, my life would have been different, but not better. I would not have gone to law school, so I would not now have a profession I find enormously satisfying, I would not have met and (after taking a marital Mulligan) married my adored husband, and on and on. It’s not like I sit around pondering what my life would have been like had I followed my original post-college plans, but reading Nelson’s book really stirred up some memories and a few what-might-have-been fantasies.
Which was what Nelson hoped would happen. She wanted to write about how books “get to” her personally. Hers certainly got to me.
Friday, May 15, 2009
Opening Sentence of the Day: India: The Rise of an Asian Giant
"The Indian giant is rising like Gulliver after being released from the web of threads with which he had been pinned down."
-- India: The Rise of an Asian Giant by Dietmar Rothermund.
This book about India's economic rise by a German scholar has not gotten much play yet. But it looks interesting and, judging from the opening line, it is not going to be horribly dry.
Thursday, May 14, 2009
Review of the Day: Fear of Flying
What a surprise! I put off reading Fear of Flying for years, afraid it was just some outdated, feminist apologia. I was wrong. It is funny, charming, and completely engaging. I was alternately reminded of Philip Roth, Woody Allen, Two for the Road, and Sex and the City. Loved it!
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