Wednesday, September 30, 2015
A GOD IN RUINS by Kate Atkinson
The
main character may be Teddy Todd, but this is pretty much a family saga, told
in no particular order. The book covers
Teddy’s life from start to finish but meanders all over the place as far as the
time sequence. The gimmick of the day at
one time was stream of consciousness, but now many novelists seem to shuffle
the events in the story into a random order.
Sometimes the author has an obvious purpose in revealing what ultimately
happens and then enlightening us later about prior events, but in this case I
felt like the popping back and forth was just for the sake of variety. A large portion of the book is devoted to
Teddy’s experiences as a RAF fighter pilot during WWII, and I found those sections
to be crammed with too much detail. The
author may have intended those sections to be the heart of the novel, but,
frankly, other WWII novels have moved me more than this one did. Teddy’s life after the war is fairly
mundane—marrying his childhood sweetheart and raising a daughter who then
abandons her children in order to pursue political causes. Teddy’s grandchildren then refuse to spend
time with their mother after they become adults—sort of like the son in Harry
Chapin’s song “Cat’s in the Cradle.” The
ending to this novel is the most memorable part, and I reread it several times,
just because I was so stunned. I thought
the ending was very similar to another WWII novel that I didn’t really like and
that I won’t mention by name, because it would give too much away. The author is obviously trying to make a
point with the ending, and I get it, but I don’t think it’s completely
effective. What exactly was the point of
Teddy’s life after the war? I think he
always felt that being a fighter pilot was what he was meant to do, and
everything after that was fairly ordinary, in the greater scheme of things. Maybe raising his grandchildren gave him some
feeling of worth later on, but he harbored a lot of guilt for having sent his
grandson to live with the boy’s horrible paternal grandparents for a
while. Other than that, Terry’s
accomplishments after the war are not remarkable or particularly worth reading
about. I do love Kate Atkinson’s writing
style, but it just wasn’t enough for me here.
Saturday, September 26, 2015
EMOTIONALLY WEIRD by Kate Atkinson
As the title suggests, this book is weird, though not
necessarily emotionally. The author
differentiates at least five storylines with different fonts, but I could only
follow the two main ones. (The other
three are snippets from novels written by characters in the main storyline.) Effie is a university student who is
habitually late with her homework, but her stoner boyfriend Bob is even
worse. A smattering of other characters
include two dogs, a bunch of indistinguishable fellow students, several nutty
professors, and a shady private eye.
Interspersed within the text are interjections from Effie’s mother Nora,
who isn’t really her mother, but I have to say that her snarky comments were
often quite entertaining. The reader has
the sense that Effie is reading this novel to Nora, and Nora is making
unsolicited comments that influence Effie to change the plot from time to
time. (Perhaps this technique is sort of
a precursor to the author’s various lives for Ursula in Life
After LIfe.) The true puzzle of
the novel, I guess, is that of Effie’s parentage, but I found that whole
subplot to be really distracting. I’m a
huge Kate Atkinson fan, but all the literary shenanigans here just didn’t
really work for me. There’s too much
going on, and yet I have to agree with Nora’s observation about the main storyline
that nothing much happens. Atkinson’s
strong suit is always sparkling dialog, and this book does not disappoint in
that regard. Professor Cousins and Bob
both voice some real zingers, and two women who have temporarily escaped their
retirement home are hilarious. Effie is
just sort of a stationary object for the other more colorful characters to
revolve around.
Wednesday, September 23, 2015
WILD by Cheryl Strayed
Authors who write successful memoirs almost always have a
comeback story to tell. Frankly, they
all strike me as a little self-congratulatory, and this one is no
exception. Twenty-something Cheryl
Strayed has never emotionally recovered from the death of her mother, and her
grief has left her so bereft of good sense that she cheats on her beloved
husband and becomes addicted to heroin.
To get her life back on track, she decides to backpack the Pacific Crest
Trail alone for three months, despite a cavalier disregard for the need to
train. Her pack is so extraordinarily
heavy that she cannot lift it without putting it on, and her boots cause
blisters on her feet and blacken her toe nails.
In any case, she trundles on, facing threatening wildlife, snow and ice,
intimidating hunters of the two-legged variety, and dehydration, with guts and
optimism—most of the time, at least.
She’s not a whiner, but she is incredibly foolish, and somehow she
survives, thanks to a fair amount of good luck, the kindness of strangers, and
sheer willpower. However, I can’t say
that I ever warmed up to her. For one
thing, I found her story totally lacking in humor. Her myriad mistakes are not funny at all; on
the contrary, they’re quite depressing. I
admire her for making the trip and thus digging herself out of a debilitating
funk, but, to me, this story is a little too much about Cheryl patting herself
on the back. She marvels at the fact
that men still find her attractive when she hasn’t bathed in two weeks, but I’m
more impressed with her refusal to give up or to give in to fear, although her
nightmares about Bigfoot seemed a little nutty.
Still, after all she’s overcome, I guess she’s earned the right to strut
her stuff.
Wednesday, September 16, 2015
EUPHORIA by Lily King
Fen and Nell are cultural anthropologists in the 1930s,
married to one another, searching for a new tribe to study in New Guinea, after
fleeing from the terrifying Mumbanyo.
Bankson, an Englishman in a state of personal despair, becomes enraptured
by both Fen and Nell, and sees them as his salvation as he delivers them
upriver to the Tam village. Nell has
published a very successful book, and Fen, who lacks the discipline to create a
work of similar import, becomes increasingly more volatile as his feelings of
frustration and jealousy mount. Both Fen
and Nell see Bankson as a mediating influence.
He brings out the best in both of them, and the threesome brainstorm
“the Grid,” which is their newfound classification system for various cultures
and even individuals. Nell and Bankson
see each other as kindred spirits, but Nell is reluctant to take their
relationship any further while she is trying to conceive a child with Fen. The heart of this book is the fascinating
love triangle, but there are several underlying themes, especially with regard
to anthropology as a science. The
question of how much the scientists’ presence distorts the culture being
studied is a controversy without an easy solution. This novel also separates cultural
anthropologists into those like Fen, who want to become part of the tribe being
studied, and those like Nell who can’t wait to tell the world about her
theories and findings. A dark sense of
foreboding hangs over most of the novel, so that even as I was flipping pages
with relish, I wanted to put on the brakes to avoid slamming into the
inevitable conclusion. The author allows
bits and pieces of seemingly unimportant information to trickle into the story
and then play a large role in the finale.
If I have a quibble with this book it’s that having Bankson as the
first-person narrator takes a little getting used to, given that the author is
a woman. In any case, she has woven an
exquisite web of passion with an understated thread of suspense that I found
totally enthralling. Euphoria indeed.
Wednesday, September 9, 2015
EVERYTHING I NEVER TOLD YOU by Celeste Ng
It’s 1977, and we know from the
beginning that Lydia Lee is dead. The
pertinent questions then are how and why.
As the mystery of her death unfolds, the layers of a seriously dysfunctional
family are peeled back. Lydia and her
brother Nathan are the only Asian-Americans in their high school, and both
struggle with loneliness. Lydia is more than just the apple of her parents’
eyes; she is her mother Marilyn’s designated avatar to achieve her unfulfilled
goal of becoming a physician. Lydia’s
father James, acutely aware that his children are battling the same prejudices
that he has, just wants Lydia to fit in and be popular. However, Lydia goes to great lengths to
conceal her dearth of friends from her father and has made a pact with herself
to please her mother in every way possible, at the expense of her own
happiness. She finally rebels by
striking up a friendship with Jack, a neighbor boy with a scandalous
reputation. Nathan is the only one in
the family who knows about this clandestine relationship and strongly suspects
that Jack knows more than he’s telling about what happened to Lydia. Jack’s nervous behavior suggests that Nathan
is right and that Jack might even be involved somehow in Lydia’s death. I love the way this story unfolds as we
slowly get to know Lydia and what was going on in her head, but I found it
difficult to really like anyone in the family except the youngest daughter
Hannah, who was born after the most traumatic family crisis prior to Lydia’s
disappearance. She seems to be the least
damaged and the most perceptive when it comes to judging character. However, her participation in the family
drama is tangential, and drama abounds.
I always find a novel unsettling when it concerns parents who are
completely in the dark about their children’s lives. In this case, the
frustrations and disappointments of the parents are trickling down to their
children in unpredictable ways.
Wednesday, September 2, 2015
THE PAYING GUESTS by Sarah Waters
The setting is London in the 1920s, and the city is still
reeling from the war. 26-year-old
Frances Wray and her mother are barely scraping by, since all the men in the
family have died. To help cover the
upkeep costs of their home, they take in lodgers. The “paying guests,” Lilian and Leonard, are
also in their 20s, but their rung on the social ladder is lower than that of
the Wrays. Still, they can afford the
rent, thanks to Len’s job with an insurance company. At first, the comings and goings of the new
couple are a minor nuisance, but Frances and Lilian strike up a friendship that
turns into a love affair. The plot takes
a sharp turn in another direction when an argument gets out of hand, and the
two women make an extremely ill-advised decision. I do not love reading about people doing
incredibly stupid things, and I am not referring to their trysts. On that subject, though, I found it odd that
Frances is very jealous of Len, but Lilian never feels that she is betraying
Len with Frances. In other words, the
two lovers have very different perspectives on what a sexual relationship with
another woman represents. Their
passionate encounters become boring and repetitive after a while, but then the
pivotal event occurs, and I just wanted to get the whole sordid messy aftermath
over with, as did the characters. The
author did a great job of conveying how the weeks and then months dragged on
and on, but I found the whole process just excruciating, with the two women
continually agonizing over what steps to take.
At one point, Lilian suggests a course of action that finally makes
sense, but Frances talks her out of it.
Then, a few weeks later, Frances makes the same suggestion, but Lilian
talks her out of it. I just wanted to
pull my hair out.
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