Wednesday, May 27, 2015
THE CHILDREN ACT by Ian McEwan
Fiona Maye is a family services judge in London, consumed by
her work, at the expense of her personal life.
Her husband Jack tells her that he is about to embark on an affair with
a young co-worker, since the passion has gone out of their marriage. Fiona unceremoniously sends him packing,
changes the door locks, and immerses herself in her work and her piano. Her current caseload includes a medical
situation involving a 17-year-old Jehovah’s Witness. The teenager, Adam, and his parents have
refused a potentially life-saving transfusion on the basis of religious
principles. Before passing judgment,
Fiona visits Adam in the hospital, and the two bond over music and poetry. That visit, however, has unforeseen
repercussions for both of them after Fiona renders her decision on the
case. This is the point at which I
thought almost everything about the story became a foregone conclusion. There is even a question about abandoning the
law altogether, but that wavering comes from a defense attorney, not Fiona
herself. There are, however, nuances of
the outcome that I did not expect, and, as always, McEwan’s writing is so fluid
and pleasurable to read that I liked the book despite its predictability. The novel is also rather short, not that I’m
complaining, and feels almost like a short story. Fiona commits a pivotal and impulsive act in
the latter part of the book that seems odd and out of character but at the same
time works as sort of a symbol of her re-igniting passion for something other
than the law. After receiving some very
unsettling news, she delivers the most inspired musical performance of her
life. Powerful emotions can imbue music
with meaning, whether you’re the musician or the listener, and sometimes we
redirect such emotions toward some other aspect of our lives.
Wednesday, May 20, 2015
THE ROSIE PROJECT by Graeme Simsion
Don Tillman is a genetics professor in Australia who appears
to have an autism spectrum disorder.
Since married men are generally more successful than single men, he
embarks on the “Wife Project” and devises a questionnaire for potential marital
partners. Meanwhile, his philandering
buddy Gene sends a student named Rosie to meet Gene, and they hit it off,
despite Rosie’s obvious unsuitability as a mate, in Gene’s estimation. You can guess the rest. The “Father Project” is the activity which
binds this pair together, as Don and Rosie surreptitiously gather DNA samples
in an effort to out Rosie’s real father.
This exercise has the expected outcome as well and introduces us to a
swarm of characters that I found difficult to differentiate. Unlike me, Don has a near-perfect memory that
serves him well, especially when he and Rosie bartend at a class reunion
attended by most of the candidates for the Father Project. Don has memorized the recipes for myriad
obscure cocktails, delighting the crowd with his expertise. Obviously, Don is high-functioning, despite
his social disability, which only seems to manifest itself at the most
inopportune times. Gene’s long-suffering
wife Claudia takes on the task of mentoring Don in appropriate dress and
behavior, with mixed results. Don
narrates the story with the expected nerdy-sounding voice, and I enjoyed seeing
the world through his eyes, with his reactions to it. His literal interpretation of various figures
of speech provides the primary source of chuckles as I breezed through this
book. I would rate it as a pretty good
summer beach read, and I can already envision it as a run-of-the-mill rom-com
movie, unless the casting is particularly inspired.
Wednesday, May 13, 2015
A TALE FOR THE TIME BEING by Ruth Ozeki
I am usually a little put off when an author inserts herself
into her novel, but here it seems to work.
Ruth (in the novel) is experiencing writer’s block when a plastic bag
washes onto the shore near her home in British Columbia. In the bag is the diary of a 16-year-old
Japanese girl, Nao (pronounced “now” to go along with the time-related themes
here), and Ruth becomes obsessed with Nao’s story, surmising that the tsunami
of 2011 propelled the diary across the Pacific.
We alternate between Nao’s story and Ruth’s reaction to it. Nao lived in Sunnyvale, CA, until her father
lost his high tech job during the dot-com meltdown. Now Nao and her family have returned to
Japan, where Nao is having to adapt to Japanese school and suffers cruel
bullying from her classmates, while the teachers look the other way or even
join in the harassment. Nao’s father’s
self-esteem has reached rock-bottom, rendering him suicidal, and Nao figures
that she may as well end her life, too.
Her great-uncle, a scholar drafted during WWII at the age of 19, died in
a kamikaze mission, and Nao meets his ghost while visiting her
great-grandmother. At this point,
supernatural events start to seep into the plot, leaving me a little less
enthralled. The author juggles a lot of
themes here, but what really captured my attention was the unflattering picture
she paints of Japanese society. The
novel Unbroken comes to mind, as well
as The Distant Land of My Father,
both of which recount the deplorable acts of the Japanese military during WWII,
and this novel touches on that but brings us more up to date with what’s
happening in civilian life today—suicides, teenaged prostitutes, internet
hazing, and teachers complicit in bullying.
We’re obviously not immune to these problems, along with mass shootings
and police brutality, here in the U.S., and I have to wonder how prevalent
these issues are in Japan. Are they
limited to Tokyo? The cover-up of what
really happened at Fukushima nuclear power plant is particularly unsettling. Did regulators really allow the dumping of
tons of radioactive water into the Pacific Ocean? Maybe the water just leaked out—shades of the
Exxon Valdez and the BP Gulf disaster.
In any case, Ozeki seemingly presents us with a cultural mindset that
everything is OK, even when it’s not.
Wednesday, May 6, 2015
THE DOVEKEEPERS by Alice Hoffman
My first problem with this book was that I didn’t know what
C.E. meant. Thanks to Wikipedia, I now
know that it is the same as A.D., without the Christian overtones, and that
means higher numbers are more current. The
Romans have driven the Jews out of Jerusalem and seem intent on slaying them
wherever they find them. Then again, I
don’t think the Romans spared anyone that stood in the way of their conquering
armies. This novel, narrated by four
women, takes place in the first century A.D., or C.E., if you prefer, in
Masada, a town on top of a mesa, with a palace built by Herod. Yael arrives pregnant with her first child
after her lover and his wife have died of a fever during the journey through
the desert. Accompanying Yael is her
father, a member of an assassination squad, who barely acknowledges Yael as his
daughter, since Yael’s birth killed his wife.
Yael’s brother Amram is in love with Aziza, daughter of Shirah. Aziza would be one of Masada’s most talented
archers, but she is forbidden to use weapons because she is female. Shirah is the mistress of the leader of
Masada and is an expert in spells and potions.
Revka is the widow of a baker and had to kill her own daughter to end
her suffering after a vicious attack.
She now has charge of two grandsons, who have not spoken since
witnessing their mother’s death. Shirah
and Yael are lusty women in forbidden relationships, but the sex scenes in the
book are not particularly erotic. These
were violent times, but, again, the violence is not particularly graphic, until
we reach the gruesome finale. I did not
know anything about Masada prior to reading this novel, so that the conclusion
struck me as particularly insane. This
is supposed to be a novel about resilient women, but I couldn’t help thinking
that their paths would have been a lot less rocky if they hadn’t let themselves
become swept up in affairs with married men.
Consequently, the virtues of these women seemed to be diminished by
their impractical choices in matters of the heart. Also, the men come across as brutes, while
the women show compassion for doves, a Scandinavian slave, and certainly each
other. Aziza even loses her taste for
battle when she witnesses the slaughter of women and children in a raid for provisions. I wish I knew how historically accurate these
opposing portraits of the two sexes are.
Now I’m halfway through the TV miniseries, and I already know that the
ending is different, and half the characters are missing. Perhaps it will be an improvement.
Monday, May 4, 2015
HERE ON EARTH by Alice Hoffman
March Murray, along with her teenaged daughter Gwen, has
returned to her Massachusetts hometown of Jenkintown for a funeral, after an
absence of almost 20 years. She knows
that she will also see Hollis, the love of her life. When Hollis disappeared years ago to seek his
fortune, March gave up waiting for him and married Richard Cooper, who loves
her dearly. Hollis made his fortune and
then some, as he now owns just about everything in town. While March and Hollis rekindle the flame of
their passion, Gwen falls for Hollis’s ward Hank, who happens to be March’s
nephew, making Gwen and Hank first cousins.
Gwen also develops a strong affinity for Tarot, Hollis’s washed-up
racehorse who has a reputation for violent misbehavior. When Gwen decides that she’d like to remain
in Jenkintown, the way is clear for the two of them to move in with
Hollis. However, Hollis’s attachment to
March does not extend to Gwen, another man’s daughter. Meanwhile, Richard knows about his wife’s
infidelity and wants her back anyway. I
would not call this a novel about love or even lust. It’s about an obsession that gets way out of
hand. I know domestic situations like
this exist, where a woman sacrifices everything, including her self-respect, to
be with a man who doesn’t deserve her.
Still, March had a seemingly contented existence with Richard, but the
unfinished business with Hollis probably tugged at her soul every day. I found the fringe characters to be more
interesting than March: Susie Justice,
who steers clear of all marriage opportunities; March’s cruel brother Alan
whose grief won’t allow him to become sober; and Susie’s father (a judge named
Justice? Really?), who carried on an
affair for decades under everyone’s noses.
The two big questions of the novel are whether March will come out of
her trance and whether Alan will find redemption. Gwen, though, is the one who really has an
opportunity to learn what she’s made of.
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