11 posts tagged “family”
McEwan is able to write about situational conflicts in such a harrowing, haunting way.
The story is of two virgins on their wedding night and set in the early 1960s.
The scenes in their honeymoon suite are amazing. When I read Murakami's sex scenes I am often struck by how he has no sensibility for sex and femininity. Those scenes were a stark contrast here as McEwan was able to capture so vividly and poignantly what the experience could be like for a woman who has experienced abuse in her past.
I have only read two of Murakami's books, so it might be a false impression, but I feel that, sexually, women are objects in Murakami's stories. McEwan left me amazed that a man could have such insight into a female experience.
Also, music plays an important role in this book. And I found myself thinking of both High Fidelity and Once. Although this one has the saddest ending, I think I prefer it to the other two.
The characters, while somewhat two-dimensional, are still fascinating in their personalities that range from well-meaning (but clueless) to all out psychotic.
One of the best aspects of the book is in how direct dialogue from two of the characters is limited. It lends an extra eerie quality to the story.
I would also recommend this book because it's one of the least predictable stories I've read in quite a while. I did figure out the "twist" shortly before it was revealed, and some in the book club felt it was contrived, but it's creative, so I can look past how unlikely it was.
Six in all, the pieces are a mix of essays and short stories. The short stories include baby murder and intentional self-dismemberment.
The essays are not quite as disturbing, but still not what I would call funny. Even Santaland, which is one of the author's most famous pieces, was never one of my favorites. But most people find that one fall down funny. I don't get it.
Maybe I don't get it because I can't join the Christmas -is-the-most-depressing-time-of-year mentality. I mean, it's not like my favorite time of year, but I think we've all become a little too dramatic about how depressing we think the holidays are.
I'm starting to think I'm a freak just because I can accept the holidays as another day, and I don't spend the rest of the year either dreading them, plotting against them, or harassing people who say Happy Holidays as opposed to Merry Christmas. Times are weird.
There is so much you could talk about with this book. I am not sure what the main theme is. Crime? Love? Time? One might think from the title that it would be atonement itself?
As a statement about life starting out at one point and ending up somewhere else completely unimagined, it's a wonderful analogy. We never really know what another person might be thinking or his/her true motives. Even friends. Even family. And there is a certain amount of danger in that. And loneliness.
I am impressed that he could use the shocking details and such an angry protagonist to make some pretty great points about who we are--and who we think we are.
Looking forward to reading another Palahniuk novel now.
Enjoyable read, a little too tongue-in-cheek maybe for such a topic, but well researched.
Nothing shocking, or even revealing, if you know much about intersexual issues. The side issue (of incest) was the topic I found much more interesting.
Desdemona was a great, great character. Maybe one of my all-time favorites. It was worth the read just for her.
Neither Frankenstein nor his creature are anything alike between film and novel. Frankenstein comes across as shallow and cowardly--at least until it is too late. The scientist reminded me of all those bad horror movies where the female lead is running without thought. Frankenstein needed a plan and he needed to protect his family. Instead, he ran around until he twisted his ankle and fell to the ground.
The "monster" is less like a monster than an exile and an outcast. He is erudite, articulate, and athletic. It took a while to adjust to this "new" image of the creature.
The pop culture images of the creature are actually just the image that the character fights against through the book. It seems Shelley failed to get the point across. Or, we really are more like the humanity Shelley represented in her novel than we would like to believe.
I love the title of this book too. We have so many underlying notions about that word--many of those preconceptions come up in this book.
I kept thinking of The Secret Life of Bees (a book I particularly loathe) while reading this. In that book the main characters are also females in a situation that is a bit out of the mainstream, but that's where the similarity ends. Housekeeping is powerful where the other book is cheesy. This book deals with loneliness, expectation, and waiting and results in with a life-usually-does-not-give-you-what-you-expect ending. The Secret Life of Bees has an everything-works-out-in-the-end-if-you-just-believe-hard-enough ending.
Generally, books about women with female characters and a domestic plot line are more like Secret Life of Bees. I am glad Marilynne Robinson was able to give us something else.
When I think about books and movies about the Holocaust I think of the stories being told from the point of view of the Jewish citizens mostly. It makes sense, as they were obviously the ones who suffered the most. But this book made me question that assumption a bit.
The family in this this story are not those in the concentration camps, not those hiding in an attic, not the Nazis themselves. They are just ordinary, average citizens living in Nazi Germany.
I have often wondered what it would have been like to see people being marched to death camps and others being whipped in the streets. How could those people have gone along with it all? Take a pinch of conformity, a dash of fear, and bake it really slowly. That's how it can happen.
Some have said Death as narrator is a bit hokey or pretentious, but really it's rather inspired. Who else could be an objective narrator of such a tale?
But the fact that society is based on two things: people and trust--that's the same message in all three. Of course, that led to all kinds of thoughts about how I live in a place with three main rules: never admit you're wrong, take as much as you can from everyone in every situation, and patience is a vice. And I wondered just how close Connecticut is to full on cannibalism.
OK, my personal nightmares aside, I did find this book haunting. I have been thinking about things--birds and food and aspirin and the general point of life--for days now in a new light.
But the ending...I don't think this book could have an adequate end. There's no point if the characters die, right? And if everything works out in the end it's just a cheesy cliche. I think the author did the best he could in light of this horrible corner he painted himself into, but the ending just didn't quite work for me.