I'm grateful for this book. Thorp created an extraordinary force of nature in her portrayal of Lear's wife. The novel made vivid colors come in my braI'm grateful for this book. Thorp created an extraordinary force of nature in her portrayal of Lear's wife. The novel made vivid colors come in my brain. It was such a pleasure to read. All of the characters from the play stepped off of the stage and became human and alive in the memories Lear's widow shares.
The diction is gorgeously elevated. I loved the alliterative, musical, erudite, sharp-toothed fury of the voice. It captivated me.
The novel eschews scenes and set pieces for something more fragmentary--it's written in vivid shards of memory, pared down to the single emotion or sense impression.
There's been a fairly consistent and tetchy drumbeat of a complaint in the professional reviews I've read, that the novel should have been shorter, and more structured, and less emotional, and more disciplined. I guess these people would have complained about Lear's final, incredibly redundant speech in the play, too, with all those no's and nevers.
No, no, no life! Why should a dog, a horse, a rat, have life, and thou no breath at all? Thou'lt come no more, never, never, never, never, never!...more
I enjoyed reading this novel quite a bit. I couldn't help but compare its opening section with other novels I've read where the protagonist spends a gI enjoyed reading this novel quite a bit. I couldn't help but compare its opening section with other novels I've read where the protagonist spends a good number of pages entirely alone: Robinson Crusoe, The Martian, My Side of the Mountain, Earth Abides. It's an interesting technical problem for a writer to solve and Hale's approach is a little different from these others--a first person/present tense account that focuses on the body and its experiences, more than on the environment that Monster is moving through. This feels profoundly female in a way that I can't easily explain (and all of these preceding reads had male protagonists). The shift to a two-person world, when it comes, and then to an entirely new narrator, was ambitious and thoughtfully done....more
I found the first half of this novel to be a little quiet. I wish it had begun about halfway through and that it had been conceived as a short story. I found the first half of this novel to be a little quiet. I wish it had begun about halfway through and that it had been conceived as a short story. There seem to be some opinions in me about how this story is told--I think I would have preferred the story to be told from the point of view of one of the Magdalen girls, rather than a perspective that seems a little distant to me. There is a quiet grace in the prose that I found pleasant to read, but it didn't grip me. Furlong, the protagonist, is a good person trying to do the right thing, to an extent that he seemed a little one-note....more
There is something magical about experts. They're like wizards. Although this book is full of references to other experts who have helped the author, There is something magical about experts. They're like wizards. Although this book is full of references to other experts who have helped the author, or have studied or dug up things in a slightly different way, David Anthony's book made me feel I was in the presence of someone who knew more about his field than anyone else. I felt as I read that I was in the presence of a singular mind, one whose field experience and study allowed him to advance our collective idea of what it means to be human. Anthony and his wife and research partner, Dorcas Brown, have been taking research teams to the Eurasian Steppes since the late 1980s. One of their innovations was to develop a way to determine whether jawbones of horses, preserved in the steppes, showed signs of the horse wearing a bit. It's one example of the way the research and conclusions in this book seem both common-sensical and yet innovative--no one had ever thought to look for evidence of civilization/horse domestication in quite this way before, or thought it possible. It's a wonderful, mind-opening book in every way....more
Ok, I really hated this book, but I give it five stars. Let me explain. I had to put it down a lot--sort of the equivalent of covering my eyes at the Ok, I really hated this book, but I give it five stars. Let me explain. I had to put it down a lot--sort of the equivalent of covering my eyes at the movies. Reading it did strange, bad things to my heart rate. The book is a masterpiece of oblique anxiety and despair. Events are much more unhinged than in Kafka, with whom Hawkes is sometimes compared. Disturbing and unique....more
This lovely indie-published Beowulf is the fourth translation I've read in the last few years (the others are translations by Chickering, Heaney, and This lovely indie-published Beowulf is the fourth translation I've read in the last few years (the others are translations by Chickering, Heaney, and bro-loving Maria Dahvana Headley) and wow, I loved it. The author is unabashedly, unapologetically erudite in his preface, quoting Aristotle in the original Greek and introducing me to a lovely new word, "sphalm," which I've since learned "is an archaic and largely obsolete word that refers to a 'bad idea', most often a misinterpretation of a religious text." Yeah. What a great word. So let me get to the poem itself and why I loved this translation. It's completely clear. It follows the story and yet it somehow keeps a great deal of the art of the original poem, with its kennings and its alliterative flourishes. It gripped me and reminded me that this is a great story. It's not as fussily self-important as Heaney or as flashy as Headley or as stodgily precise as Chickering and as far as I'm concerned that's all to the good. I enjoyed reading this version a great deal--it was like visiting with an old friend and seeing new qualities I hadn't seen before.
It's clear on every page that Carnabuci loves the language of the poem, and loves the story of the poem, in a way that I'll never have access to, unless I spend the next many years of my life learning old English. I'm grateful to feel the translator's enthusiasm for the poem through these pages. The preface alone is worth reading a few times....more
I would have been less critical of this novella if the same author hadn't written the extraordinary Heaven which has so much more imo to say, both aboI would have been less critical of this novella if the same author hadn't written the extraordinary Heaven which has so much more imo to say, both about humanity in general, and also about young humanity in particular....more
When I get older and my monthly cycles started, my mother decided I should stay at home to protect my honor,. I put a covering on my head, a colorful When I get older and my monthly cycles started, my mother decided I should stay at home to protect my honor,. I put a covering on my head, a colorful hijab. I would fix it in the shape of a rose, which made me laugh and feel happy. My mother began to tie me to the bed in our room with a long rope when she was at work. The summer months we spent together.
Extraordinary, terrifying, glorious, literary, upsetting. Read it. Yazbek (whose words reach me through the magic help of her translator, Leri Price) creates such a captivating voice to tell this story--the voice of a naive innocent--and through that voice somehow captures the terror and disorder of life in contemporary Syria in time of war.
I'm extremely moved by what I read and I'm in awe of both Yazbek and Price, for allowing me as a reader of English to enter this beautiful/horrifying world. This novel is easily a candidate for my "best book of 2021" ... a short list for me, but one that also includes two other books from the NBA finalists for best translated book of 2021. This novel reminds me again of how grateful I am to the publishers who are bringing these great works of contemporary world literature to the English-speaking world.
If I search my reading past for a book that this novel reminds me of I would say A GENERAL THEORY OF OBLIVION by Angolan author José Eduardo Agualusa, which is told from the point of view of an agoraphobic woman who walls herself in her apartment even as Angola erupts in civil violence outside her doors. There is something about using the perspective of an innocent that allows both authors to explore terrible truths....more
What a gorgeous and humane collection of stories. Never sentimental or over-argued--they just felt truthful to me, in the way of the best fiction. I'mWhat a gorgeous and humane collection of stories. Never sentimental or over-argued--they just felt truthful to me, in the way of the best fiction. I'm often moved by what I read, but I've rarely felt the depth of feeling that some of these stories gave me, including most of all the first story in the collection, "Stars," about a woman who experiences a stroke--within the first few sentences I felt both physical anxiety and a sense of profound loss as well as a sense of helplessness. I'll be buying this book and reading it again carefully and then reading it again. My thanks to NetGalley and to Catapult for the ARC....more
I love Bernhard Schlink and would read anything by him. I enjoyed reading this novel, but compared with Schlink's past work it struck me as superficiaI love Bernhard Schlink and would read anything by him. I enjoyed reading this novel, but compared with Schlink's past work it struck me as superficial in style, and inconsequential in story. I was reminded of Heinrich Böll's story "Die Blasse Anna," but Böll's story shattered me, whereas Olga mildly engaged me....more
This novel is a magnificent blend of the horrific and the sublime. It begins with a mother and her two daughters anxiously waiting the arrival of HurrThis novel is a magnificent blend of the horrific and the sublime. It begins with a mother and her two daughters anxiously waiting the arrival of Hurricane Maria. The way their fear blends with their fatalism somehow captures perfectly what it must feel like when something awful, and yet inevitable, is coming for you. One daughter survives the hurricane, and the other does not, and the reason why the girl dies--her mother is being so insufferable that the girl flees to the next room, which promptly collapses and fills with mud--is all the more disturbing because of the matter-of-fact way these events are played out in the prose. Here is where the narrative voice really begins to drive home what kind of story we're in for--when the surviving sister cuts off her dead sister's little finger--the only piece of her sister not buried in mud--for a keepsake. It's the surviving sister's voice, filled with hopeless despair and child-like wonder in equal measure, that keeps propelling this story forward into ever more unexpected and creative directions.
It's one of those books you need to be in the mood for, because it's relentless. I was in the mood for it.
Meike's review is an excellent and thoughtful critique of this book and I suggest you read it.
This novel reminded me very strongly, in its voice and nMeike's review is an excellent and thoughtful critique of this book and I suggest you read it.
This novel reminded me very strongly, in its voice and narrative style, of two beloved books that I'm sad to never have the chance to read for the first time again: The Long Ships by Frans G. Bengtsson, and Her Mother's Mother's Mother and Her Daughters by Maria José Silveira. Bengtsson, I know, very deliberately rejected modern storytelling techniques with their interiorities and their streams-of-consciousness, to go back to a much older style of tale-telling. All three of these books tell their stories through narrative anecdote, like the style of sagas and legends and epic poems, and the style allows all three authors to sweep across centuries at a breathless pace to tell their stories. "Saga" sounds a little boring, maybe, but to me these books are full of action and consequences with no time to spare for how people feel or what they happen to be thinking. I love it in all three books and I admire their authors for trying a storytelling style so old it's new again....more
Gorgeously written, deeply melancholic vignettes told by the dead, all of them buried together in a poorly-tended cemetery. Each gets a turn to share Gorgeously written, deeply melancholic vignettes told by the dead, all of them buried together in a poorly-tended cemetery. Each gets a turn to share what they remember of their life story--what impressions they still remember, even after death. I loved the way these stories intersect. I loved the way some of the voices share memories of a single event told from different perspectives. I especially loved the vignettes that were more a series of vivid life impressions, rather than a story per se. Sometimes the memories of the dead consist of very small, and yet significant sense impression. The touch of a spouse. Seeing the boy who bullied you as a child many years later, while he is in the act of tenderly embracing a woman. The way each voice in turn describes their memories with nearly pointillistic detail, tiny moments that have stuck in the mind even after death, reminded me of the oral-history works of Walter Kempowski....more
The dying man writhed in agony and reaching out he grabbed the ringmaster's ankle weakly. The ringmaster jerked his foot away and kicked the man hard The dying man writhed in agony and reaching out he grabbed the ringmaster's ankle weakly. The ringmaster jerked his foot away and kicked the man hard in the face, sending him rolling over on his side. He gave his cane a sharp twist and it came apart in his hand, revealing a hidden knife.
"A man is never without his arms," he said, and winked at Ming. "Something you surely must know better than I. But enough of these platitudes." With his boot the ringmaster rolled the moaning man back over onto his back. "I'll be taking those bills back," he said, and opened the man's throat with a quick swipe of his bladed cane.
The man gurgled a soft protest as he passed...
So then. This writing is simultaneously excessively ornate, and excessively blunt, and casually sloppy (what's with those three uses of the word back, anyway..."back over onto his back I'll be taking those bills back"?). It's a style that reminds me more than anything of The Life and Adventures of Joaquín Murieta: The Celebrated California Bandit by John Rollin Ridge (1854), a book that everyone should read before they die. It's almost the same story, come to think of it. As in John Rollin Ridge's novel, the story told in The Thousand Crimes of Ming Tsu is overplotted and overblown and ridiculous, and yet, in its own way, somehow, deeply entertaining.
This was a very fun read, in other words. I'm not sure it's meant to be more than that, and if not, then I'd say it's a resounding success....more
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