Enduring Love is not my favorite Ian McEwan, but I still found it incredibly beautiful, thought provoking, and moving. McEwan is perhaps a romantic in many ways, but he also portrays relationships in all their complexity. The leading relationship is not a conventional romance, certainly, and the couple have real, full lives and challenges. I just love his language, the way he crafts sentences so that they serve the story and the characters while being beautiful in their own right. This story in particular shows a fascinating pull in, pull out effect in the ways that communal events impact individual lives (a theme in the other two novels of his that I’ve read). It’s also an enjoyable story that challenges your understanding of what is happening at multiple times throughout the novel.
Now, if you like uber bleak, somewhat nihilistic looks at suburban life in American with mostly unpleasant, unlikeable characters and beautiful if pretentious prose, than you likely have already read The Corrections (and Freedom for that matter). I personally don’t, but I slogged through this very, very long story, and happily put it aside with a sigh of relief that Freedom came out post list. Yay! It was likely an early birthday present (yes, Franzen is an excellent writer and the book is amazing from a craft perspective; no, I do not like it).
If I had to one single word to describe The Honorary Consul it would be gripping. This is yet another novel that demonstrates that knowing how a story will end/being spoilered does not necessarily detract from the power of the work. The story’s tragic trajectory is telegraphed from the first chapter and first encounter with the lead characters, yet gripping remains the best word to describe it. While I would love to do a critical read of the race, class, and gender issues in this work, I equally would love to see a film adaptation (though who to play the lead? It has a Humphrey Bogart feel in some ways, but he would not be quite right). The lead character’s outlook on human nature and human relationships is certainly bleak, but it also is the driving force for the story and makes him a fascinating character; I would also argue that his outward portrayal of those feelings is not completely accurate, though the reverse isn’t completely true, either. Also, I am intrigued by the author’s choice in the novel’s name.
I didn’t realize until part way through that A Home at the End of the World was written by the same guy who wrote The Hours. When I realized that, a lot started to make sense. That’s not necessarily a good thing. He masterly handled the different narrators’ tones and perspectives in a way that served the story and did not seem like a gimmick. I was a bit disappointed in the way the relationship with the threesome went, but it did fit with the bleak, yet ultimately hopeful tone of the novel. I can’t believe they attempted to make a film of this one, though.
Given my unabashed and admitted dislike of most everything Henry James has written, it should come as no surprise that I did not really enjoy What Maisie Knew. And what, pray tell, did Maisie know, you may ask? Perhaps that everyone in her life was a total dick? Perhaps that the author of her little story was an overly pretentious ass? That her story would really not stand the test of time well? That even if she had an identical twin her life ain’t no Parent Trap?
The Monk. Oh, The Monk. And I thought Sister Carrie was trippy! This novel is sort of horrible; actually, it just is horrible. It’s painful all the way through, and then all of sudden at the end there is a demon. I repeat, a DEMON just shows up. I. . . I have no words.
Gone With the Wind will clearly merit a movie/book comparison. It’s really only worth reading for the scenes between Rhett and Scarlet. Rhett does get some absolutely amazing lines, and their chemistry is amazing. Scarlet is, not more likable per se, but a better character in the books. I appreciated Mitchell’s willingness, actual, to make her so flawed and unlikeable in some ways while also making her so incredibly strong, real, and powerful (and showing the impacts of trauma on her life). But, of course, this novel is a) sort of disgusting in its ode to a utopian world that never existed and was actually a hell for many, b) too long, and c) not really that well written.
I am running out of steam here, and The Bonfire of the Vanities did not do that much for me. Similar themes as American Psycho, without the insanity. I just lose interest in that nihilistic, Master of the Universe stuff. It was a fun read overall, picked up steam and eventually was close to gripping, and I enjoyed some of the procedural aspects. Overall, though, I’d just say it was okay.
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