Review #9: Freedom by Jonathan Franzen

Freedom is a book about contemporary America. That's the best way that I can sum it up. It follows the lives of Walter and Patty Berglund, a married Minnesotan couple, and, to a lesser extent, their son Jesse and their long-time family friend, Richard Katz. It's hard to describe the storyline without giving too much away. Basically, the books is divided into three sections: the present, the past and the future. Each one deals with Walter and Patty at a different stage in their lives, and intertwines their individual voices with those of Richard and Jesse.

In reality, the storylines themselves don't matter that much--I found most of them to be a bit predictable. Where Franzen truly excels is in his portrayal of the Berglunds themselves. Each and every character is magnificently flawed, and I don't think there's a truly likable person in the entire book. But that's the beauty of it--Franzen doesn't shy away from making his protagonists terrible people, people you simultaneously root for and revile. I hated every character, to the point where I had to put the book down because what was happening was making me feel sick, but I couldn't stop reading. Despite my dislike for the Berglunds, I was truly invested in their story.

For me, reading Freedom was an experience. It was overwhelming and consuming and I had to struggle to remove myself from the fictional world to take a deep breath of reality. It's a difficult read because it's so true to life--Franzen exposes corruption and dishonesty wherever he sees it, which is almost everywhere. However, he maintains a healthy balance between his cynicism and a sense of humor and an appreciation for beauty, which makes it all a bit more palatable.

One other issue I had with the novel is that I think Franzen took on a bit too much. I wish he had focused only on Walter and Patty, because the moments where he switches to Richard's or Jesse's perspective feel too infrequent for them to have much of an impact. He also dropped some storylines as a result, and so the inclusion of these characters' voices--as interesting as they were--were unsatisfactory.

Overall though, these are minor complaints. Even at his weak moments, Franzen is still better than 90% of working authors today. This book was definitely over-hyped as being "important," but it lives up the expectation. Franzen somehow knows exactly how to capture moments in American consciousness. He created it in The Corrections and he creates it again here--a snapshot of what it's like to be an American today.

Review #8: Nickel and Dimed: On (Not) Getting By in America by Barbara Ehrenreich

In this interesting work of nonfiction, Barbara Ehrenreich takes the reader into the invisible world of the lower class: the menial laborers who make life comfortable for the rest of us. In the late 90's, she decided to leave her middle-class life and live as the lower class do, subsisting solely on minimum wage and taking undesirable jobs. She takes a variety of positions in three cities, as a dietary aide at a nursing home, a Walmart salesperson, a waitress, and a maid. Throughout her experience, she uncovers some of the ugly truths of this life--the dark secrets that most of us never see or simply choose to ignore. This is an uncomfortable read, as she spares no criticism of the state of our society and the flaws of the middle and upper classes. She truly exposes the hypocrisy of our system and makes it clear that although we pride ourselves on being a free and equal country, there is an incredible disparity between the lower class and everyone else. She effectively undercuts many of the arguments of those who are anti-welfare: she makes us see that our society is incredibly flawed, in that even working a full-time job at minimum wage, it is near-impossible for a person to survive.

I really enjoyed this book--Ehrenreich has a very relatable voice and balances out the seriousness of her topic with a light-heartedness and humor. It was definitely a jolting read, though, as it made me feel guilty about my comfortably middle-class upbringing. We have a tendency to push our thoughts about the people who take care of us--our housekeepers, our waiters, our salespeople--and what they do out of our minds, but this book forces the reader to think about them as people, and demands our respect for the tremendously hard work that they do.

Review #7: The Blind Kingdom by Véronique Tadjo

Disclaimer: I read this in the original French, so I can't speak to the quality of the translation or any differences found within it. 

The Blind Kingdom is a fairy tale of sorts--a short, beautifully poetic book about a far away land ruled by King Ato IV. He is the leader of the Blind, a group of unseeing people who, many years ago, conquered the indigenous people, now called the Others. Ato and his daughter, Akissi, along with their people, live in luxury, while the Others live in the slums across town. The story follows the love story between Akissi and Karim, the king's secretary, who is working undercover as a spy for the revolutionary movement of the Others.

The plot is fairly simple, but the beauty of Tadjo's writing elevates it beyond a traditional Romeo and Juliet type story. The story is written in a series of vignettes,  all stylistically different--some are almost poems, others are more traditional narratives. Some sites actually classify this as a collection of stories or poems, but I found it to be a fairly cohesive story.

One of the more interesting elements of the story is that it is a clear allegory for the conflict in the Ivory Coast, both past and present. While Tadjo was clearly purposely drawing parallels with the situation in the early 90's, when the novel was written, it is eerie how much those same parallels align with the situation there both around the time of their coup d'état in the early aughts, as well as the current crisis. These connections might not be clear to anyone who hasn't been following the recent news from there, or who doesn't have any pre-existing knowledge of the Ivory Coast's political troubles, but it would definitely be worth it to do some brief research before reading this novel in order to fully appreciate what Tadjo's doing.

I really enjoyed this book--it's a pretty quick read, mostly due to Tadjo's lyrical language. Even though the plotline is very familiar, Tadjo presents it in a very fresh way. The backdrop of violence and cultural conflict make it much more interesting than a typical romance about star-crossed lovers. It's a purposefully simple story, whose main purpose is to convey Tadjo's message about the consequences of discrimination and divisions within a nation.

It's been a while...

So this whole posting-and-school thing finally caught up to me, hence the lack of posts over the past two months (yikes, it felt way shorter than that...). Fortunately, I have been keeping up with my reading, so at least I'm on top of one part of CBRIII. Anyway, expect several posts over the next day or so...and I'll give my word that I will take time out of my busy schedule (basically, decrease my procrastination by 20 minutes) and force myself to write a review when I finish a book.

Review #6: Furious Love: Elizabeth Taylor, Richard Burton, and the Marriage of the Century

I read this weeks ago, and I've just been too busy/lazy/indifferent to it to post about it until now. I was really looking forward to this book--I'd wanted to read it since last summer, but I had trouble getting my hands on it until I was home on break. Unfortunately, it didn't live up to my expectations at all. I love reading about old-school Hollywood, and I love Elizabeth Taylor. I thought this book was going to be a juicy and scandalous look into both, but it fell flat for me on both counts.

The title is fairly self-explanatory: the book chronicles the relationship of Elizabeth Taylor and Richard Burton, the love of her life. They were married and divorced twice, and their relationship is widely considered to be one of the most scandalous the world has ever seen. This book should have been incredibly interesting. It wasn't.

A huge part of this is the writing. I actually googled the authors, Sam Kashner and Nancy Schoenberger, to find out who they were and why anyone would let them write. Kashner is apparently a contributing editor to Vanity Fair, and Schoenberger is a creative writing professor at William and Mary...which really does not say much about the state of their English department. This was truly horrible writing. Repetitive, awkwardly worded, filled with forced metaphors and unnecessary, unimportant details. I have a very hard time ignoring bad writing, so I really couldn't enjoy any of the (few) merits the rest of the book had.

It does do a good job of overviewing the individual lives and careers of Taylor and Burton, and does reveal some fascinating facts about their relationship. I just feel that the authors had so much to draw from, and really didn't succeed in presenting their material in an appealing and interesting way. I'm so disappointed. In the hands of more talented writers, this could have been exactly what I wanted it to be: a frivolous and fun read. Instead, it was tedious and a chore to get through.

I really wouldn't recommend this book. You can get the same information on Wikipedia, and it's probably better written there.

Review #5: The Book Thief

The Book Thief is another book I'd been meaning to read for months, but only got around to picking up when I was home on break. For some reason, I expected this book to be very different than it actually was--I think I was sort of put off by the cover, which (to me at least) gives off a very different vibe from the novel itself.

The book is set in Nazi-era Germany, just before the onset of World War II. It is the story of Liesel, a young girl who loses her mother and younger brother at an early age, and is sent to live with a foster family in the small town of Molching. This couple, the Hubermanns, are struggling to balance their own values and beliefs with the need to conform to the Nazi party in order to survive. This becomes more difficult when Max, the Jewish son of an old army friend of Hans Hubermann's, shows up at their doorstep, asking for asylum.

It's kind of hard to summarize the rest of the story without giving too much away. The majority of the plot focuses on Liesel's relationships, mostly with the men in her life: Max, her beloved foster father, and her best friend, Rudy. There is also an underlying plot line centered on books. Liesel is an avid reader, and the novel is framed by the books she acquires throughout her childhood--some given, some stolen.

One of the most unique aspects of the story is that it is narrated by Death, who is a character in its own right. It has a very distinct voice, and presents the events of the story from his point of view, interjecting frequently with observations and opinions, and often giving the reader previews of what is to come. It was an interesting choice on the part of Markus Zusak, and might sound odd to someone who hasn't read the book. It works very well though, and given the context of the setting, it's very appropriate.

I'm having a hard time articulating how much I loved this book. It's truly beautiful--that's the only word I can find to describe it. Zusak is an incredible writer, and has a wonderful way of words. On literally every page there was at least one phrase or description that made me wish I had written it. Beyond that though, this book has an unbelievable emotional impact. There are very few books that push me to tears, and this was one of them. The sad moments come like punches in the gut, but they are balanced by moments of humor and hope that are just as poignant. I haven't stopped thinking about it since I finished it--just writing this review is making me teary again. I also think that this has earned a spot among the books that I will revisit again, simply because I loved it so much.

I can't recommend this book highly enough.

Review #4: The Astonishing Life of Octavian Nothing, Traitor to the Nation, Volume I: The Pox Party

I just finished this book a few minutes ago, and needed to formulate my thoughts right away. I'm still not sure what to think of this novel. I think I like it, but I definitely need to read it again to fully grasp its complexity and truly appreciate it.

This is the first book in a trilogy by M.T. Anderson. I hadn't heard of it until my mother gave me a copy for my birthday, based on its excellent reviews as well as the fact that the author is from Stow, MA, the town next to mine. It's the story of Octavian, a young black boy who was raised by the Novanglian College of Lucidity, a group of scientists and philosophers. His life is centered around both their experiments, the nature of which are revealed a quarter of the way through the novel, and his education. The story is set in Revolutionary-era Massachusetts, just before the outbreak of the war. The story really focuses on Octavian's discovery of his purpose at the College, and his subsequent search for identity and changing societal roles.

Again, I'm not entirely sure how I feel about it. It's classified as a YA novel but I thought that it was very complex and even challenging to read at times. The whole story is told in a fairly authentic 18th century language, which can be distracting. I also had a hard time identifying with the main character--he seemed very distant and that made it hard to relate to him.

I loved Anderson's style, though. He plays with form and language in such unique and interesting ways, which really appealed to me as a writer. I also really enjoyed the moments of horror and humor he throws in at unexpected moments (the titular "pox party" is an example of both). He also deals with some really interesting and thought-provoking themes about humanity, freedom and thought. These positive aspects are what are convincing me to read the book again, because I think it really does have a lot to offer that I missed the first time.

Overall, I would recommend it. But make sure you have the time and the patience to really spend time with it, because it's surprisingly intricate.