Sunday, January 31, 2010
On Beauty (& many other things)
Even though Smith does talk a great deal about beauty in this novel, it could just as easily be called, On Race, On Class or On Marriage. Or any number of other titles. The Belsey family is made up of the parents and three children. Howard is the father, a professor of art history who originally comes from England. The mother, Kiki is a black woman from Atlanta who works at a local hospital. Jerome is the oldest son - the only Christian in a family of atheists. The daughter Zora is determined to be successful intellectually, but ends up being overbearing and commandeering more often than not. The youngest son, Levi, spends most of the novel trying to figure out what it means to be black in a small town with a very small black community.
I spend so much time explaining the unique positions of each of the family members, because I think the fact that their situations are so dramatically different is what makes the novel interesting. As mentioned before, the father's infidelity is crucial to the plot, as is the arrival of one of his professional rivals on the college campus, but, in my opinion, these events really just serve to illustrate the way that honesty, love and loyalty work in this culturally, emotionally, spiritually diverse family.
I'm very interested in novelists who don't seem to be concerned with whether or not their main characters are likable. Even though I haven't heard or read anything that describes Smith's own feelings on this subject, if I had to guess, I would say that she is more interested in making her characters realistic and believable. This doesn't necessarily mean that the characters aren't likable, just that they frequently do things that make the reader cringe. I consider it a mark of success on the part of the storyteller when I feel genuinely embarrassed for her characters.
Luckily, the book is fiction, so no matter what happens on the page, I can remind myself that these people didn't actually have to suffer these humiliations & heartbreaks. And if they survive, then us real folk probably can too.
Everything Matters! by Ron Currie Jr.
The book is about Junior Thibodeau, who hears voices starting when he is a fetus. Among other things, the voices tell Junior that the world is going to end when it collides with a comet when he is 36 years old. Knowing this, Junior frequently wonders whether anything he does will really matter. Of course, if you read the title of the book, you’ll get a general idea of where Currie is going with the story.
Of course, any human could apply this dark outlook to life. We know that the world will end someday; we know that we will all die someday, and we know that everyone else that we know will also die. Why is it remarkable that Junior asks himself about the meaning of life, if all people could potentially ask themselves the same questions? Most people are far enough removed from the eventual apocalypse that it doesn’t really occupy much of their time (and those who constantly think about it are a subject of concern in the mental health field). Junior is not so lucky, he knows that the world will end in the relatively near future, and a voice is available to remind him regularly.
I can usually measure the success of a book by how emotionally involved I feel with the characters, if it makes me cry, that’s even better. Some of the instances of drug abuse and neglect that take place during the childhoods of Junior and his brother, Rodney make me feel a little sick to my stomach. This is one of my markers of good storytelling. Currie succeeds in creating a group of characters that I love because of all their flaws and prejudices and anger.
Mostly due to speculations about a possible apocalypse in the year 2012, the end of the world is getting a lot of attention right now. Hopefully, this won’t affect your decision to read this book one way or the other, as it is not related to these speculations. It’s really just a good book about the ways that your decisions and relationships can either improve or destroy your life.
Review: 13 Steps Down by Ruth Rendell
13 Steps Down is about a man named Mix Cellini who is obsessed with a serial killer who had lived in his neighborhood years ago. Mix rents a small apartment in the house of an elderly, reclusive woman who needs extra money. Both are isolated from the outside world and their companionship does little for the mental well-being of either.
If nothing else, this novel may be one useful in motivating procrastinators. The antagonist of 13 Steps Down is constantly putting things off when he can’t afford to. He regularly offers very sensible sounding reasons as to why he puts off urgent tasks, for example: going to work, hiding incriminating evidence, etc. Even though the reader knows that he is a dangerous, delusional man, it is so frustrating listening to him put off so many important tasks.
Also, women in suspense novels always seem to have male protectors that are investigating the crimes against them. Though this is partially the case in 13 Steps Down, Rendell manages to impress me with the independence of her female characters. Possibly my favorite part of this novel is at the end when we get an unexpected affirmation of one character’s self-sufficiency.
Review: Stiff by Mary Roach
In Stiff, author/journalist Mary Roach investigates and observes some of the many scientific and not-so-scientific ways that donated corpses are put to use. These observations include everything from medical school autopsies and crash impact studies to crucifixion experiments and studies of medicinal cannibalism. One section of the book discusses the relatively new practice of “green” burial that some folks are now pursuing; having your body turned into compost and buried under a sapling.
This book is not an in depth description of how autopsy and other cadaver testing is actually performed. Rather, it is the description of these tests by a person who does not have a medical background. Some of Roach’s other books focus on such topics as sexual science, the evidence for an afterlife and sciences search for extraterrestrial life in space. Clearly, she is fascinated by the mechanics of things that most people would rather not know much about.
Though this book is somewhat a general overview of what it means to have your body donated to science, it is also the author’s personal exploration of possible things to do with her own corpse when the time comes. I enjoy her final thoughts on this subject.
Review: Happens Every Day by Isabel Gillies
Here’s the gist of the book: Isabel Gillies and her husband have a very dramatic relationship. They have two kids. Gillies moves from New England to Ohio with her husband who is a poetry professor. After a while, he meets and falls in love with one of the other professors at Oberlin. They separate. Don’t worry, I haven’t just given away the entire book, this is all mentioned at the beginning.
It sounds like I’m leaving out a lot, but I’m really not. When I got to page 17 of this 250+ page book, I set the book down and said to myself “How on earth will she manage to stretch this into a book length memoir?” The author must have also been wondering how she could fill up the remainder of her book. She seems to have settled on descriptions of designer apparel and home décor items, but she also includes repetitive memories of her privileged upbringing and expressions of amazement at the fact that Ohio is actually a nice place to live.
I don’t know whether I could briefly sum up the aspects of this book that bothered me. The voice of the novel just really began to irritate me. She struck me as being a frantic, needy, hypersensitive woman who defined herself solely based on appearances and her husband’s status. But it may just be that I don’t relate well to woman and I’m not really the right audience for the book. Maybe a different kind of person would find this more to their liking.
For a more enjoyable book about a philandering professor at a small Liberal Arts college, try Zadie Smith’s On Beauty. It isn’t non-fiction, but I found it much more interesting than Happens Every Day.
Graphic Novels for Grown-ups: Part 2
By Alison Bechdel
When I began reading this graphic novel, I knew very little about it, and mistakenly believed that the family funeral home (the “Fun Home”) would be a more integral part of the story. For example, other reviewers and summaries say things like “"Fun home" is what Bechdel and her siblings call the funeral home where they live. While their father obsesses about redecorating and their mother seems incapable of relating meaningfully either to them or to her husband, the joke is one way they cope with the family business” (Moore). Even though this reviewer seems to have read the book, it surprises me that she says that the family lives in the funeral house – they do not. Based on reviews like this, I guess it isn’t surprising that I was mistaken about the subject of the story. But although I was wrong about the extent to which the family funeral business was relevant; I was not disappointed in the story.
The story is actually a memoir that focuses on the father as a tyrannical closeted homosexual, and the daughter’s realization in college that she is also gay. But I’m getting ahead of myself. Bechdel doesn’t know that her father is gay until she comes out herself. Shortly after this revelation, he dies in an apparent accident. It sounds like I’m spoiling the entire book here, but that isn’t really the case. Most of this information is given to the reader at the beginning of the story, and the story fills in gaps and provides background.
As a former English student, I always wonder about many of the authors who try too hard to relate the characters in their books to characters in famous books or famous authors – in Fun Home, Bechdel uses multiple author comparisons, but Ernest Hemingway is most frequently referenced. In some books, I feel like literary references are just too pretentious and certainly not justified. Here, the comparison doesn’t feel forced. I get the impression that Bechdel had to use books and authors to understand her parents (who are English teachers), because their relationship was so distant. Rather than forcing the comparison, she is simply explaining her own means of relating to her parents.
Bechdel’s coming-of-age/coming-out story is affectionate and absorbing, even though she admits that we should be up in arms about some of the more scandalous events that take place. Maybe this is the true feat of the book; the fact that she seems to have forgiven her father for his mistakes.
...And I'm trying to get over the fact that reviewers are placing too much emphasis on the funeral home. To be honest, my final thought is that the funeral home (when it is mentioned) seems perfectly normal, whereas their actual home is pretty messed up. Maybe the significance of the Fun Home is in the contrast?
Moore, Anne Elizabeth. "The father, the daughter." The Women's Review of Books Jan.-Feb. 2007: 3+. General OneFile. Web. 29 Dec. 2009.
Graphic Novels for Grown-ups: Part 1
Asterios Polyp
This novel tells the story of a man named Asterios Polyp who loses his home and all of his possessions when his apartment building is struck by lightning on his 50th birthday. (Doesn't he have insurance???) He leaves home on a bus with just the money he has in his wallet. The book chronicles his trip while providing frequent flashbacks to his youth and failed marriage. Although many regard graphic novels as being designed for children and young adults, the story of Asterios Polyp’s journey of self-discovery and remorse is very decidedly grown-up.
The art in this book is fantastic. The color, style and layout are meant to add to the story, rather than just tell the story. Though color is limited and the lines of each drawing are minimal, Mazzucchelli’s drawings are just as instrumental to the narrative as the words and dialog. Perhaps the aspect of the illustrations that I enjoyed the most was the way that Mazzucchelli uses simple, abstract drawings to show personality differences; one person may be drawn in soft flourishes, another in clean, straight lines. The perfect balance of detail and minimalism makes this one of the most enjoyable graphic novels available.
This book is engaging, funny and tragic; it made me hope that the fictional Asterios Polyp would find a way to turn his life around.