Another masterpiece from one of the finest postwar Italian writers.
A young man flees to England, leaving his family in shambles behind him.
Michele is the only son of an Italian family. His parents are divorced, his sisters grown. It’s 1970, and Michele may or may not be involved in some sort of radical politics. He may or may not be the father of a newborn baby. In any case, he’s just taken off for England, leaving everyone else behind. In the latest installment of Ginzburg’s (Family Lexicon, 2017, etc.) oeuvre to appear in English, it is Michele’s absence that drives the novel and each of its self-involved characters—Michele’s mother, Adriana; his sister, Angelica; friend Osvaldo; and Mara, the young woman whose baby might be his. The novel is a swiftly moving blend of dialogue and letters. “I doubt you’ll come over for my birthday,” Adriana writes Michele, “because I don’t think you remembered it.” Adriana’s letters can be passive-aggressive and self-aggrandizing, but at the same time, Ginzburg has made her—and all the others—into a nuanced, sympathetic character. Some of the best scenes involve Mara, who, with baby in tow, is a flighty mess: perpetually broke, unemployed, and disorganized, she relies on the people around her to get her through. And she’s hilarious. “Your sister Angelica came to see me,” she writes to Michele. “She gave me money. Sixty thousand lire. I can’t do anything with sixty thousand lire, but it was a nice gesture.” As a whole, the novel speaks to Ginzburg’s remarkable range as a writer: She could and did write deeply moving works about the Second World War, which she survived, but she could also write comically. Beneath the currents of humor and wit is a subtle work of insight and feeling.
Another masterpiece from one of the finest postwar Italian writers.Pub Date: June 25, 2019
ISBN: 978-0-8112-2799-5
Page Count: 240
Publisher: New Directions
Review Posted Online: April 27, 2019
Kirkus Reviews Issue: May 15, 2019
Dark and unsettling, this novel’s end arrives abruptly even as readers are still moving at a breakneck speed.
Ten years after her teenage daughter went missing, a mother begins a new relationship only to discover she can't truly move on until she answers lingering questions about the past.
Laurel Mack’s life stopped in many ways the day her 15-year-old daughter, Ellie, left the house to study at the library and never returned. She drifted away from her other two children, Hanna and Jake, and eventually she and her husband, Paul, divorced. Ten years later, Ellie’s remains and her backpack are found, though the police are unable to determine the reasons for her disappearance and death. After Ellie’s funeral, Laurel begins a relationship with Floyd, a man she meets in a cafe. She's disarmed by Floyd’s charm, but when she meets his young daughter, Poppy, Laurel is startled by her resemblance to Ellie. As the novel progresses, Laurel becomes increasingly determined to learn what happened to Ellie, especially after discovering an odd connection between Poppy’s mother and her daughter even as her relationship with Floyd is becoming more serious. Jewell’s (I Found You, 2017, etc.) latest thriller moves at a brisk pace even as she plays with narrative structure: The book is split into three sections, including a first one which alternates chapters between the time of Ellie’s disappearance and the present and a second section that begins as Laurel and Floyd meet. Both of these sections primarily focus on Laurel. In the third section, Jewell alternates narrators and moments in time: The narrator switches to alternating first-person points of view (told by Poppy’s mother and Floyd) interspersed with third-person narration of Ellie’s experiences and Laurel’s discoveries in the present. All of these devices serve to build palpable tension, but the structure also contributes to how deeply disturbing the story becomes. At times, the characters and the emotional core of the events are almost obscured by such quick maneuvering through the weighty plot.
Dark and unsettling, this novel’s end arrives abruptly even as readers are still moving at a breakneck speed.Pub Date: April 24, 2018
ISBN: 978-1-5011-5464-5
Page Count: 368
Publisher: Atria
Review Posted Online: Feb. 5, 2018
Kirkus Reviews Issue: Feb. 15, 2018
The Brat Pack meets The Bacchae in this precious, way-too-long, and utterly unsuspenseful town-and-gown murder tale. A bunch of ever-so-mandarin college kids in a small Vermont school are the eager epigones of an aloof classics professor, and in their exclusivity and snobbishness and eagerness to please their teacher, they are moved to try to enact Dionysian frenzies in the woods. During the only one that actually comes off, a local farmer happens upon them—and they kill him. But the death isn't ruled a murder—and might never have been if one of the gang—a cadging sybarite named Bunny Corcoran—hadn't shown signs of cracking under the secret's weight. And so he too is dispatched. The narrator, a blank-slate Californian named Richard Pepen chronicles the coverup. But if you're thinking remorse-drama, conscience masque, or even semi-trashy who'll-break-first? page-turner, forget it: This is a straight gee-whiz, first-to-have-ever-noticed college novel—"Hampden College, as a body, was always strangely prone to hysteria. Whether from isolation, malice, or simple boredom, people there were far more credulous and excitable than educated people are generally thought to be, and this hermetic, overheated atmosphere made it a thriving black petri dish of melodrama and distortion." First-novelist Tartt goes muzzy when she has to describe human confrontations (the murder, or sex, or even the ping-ponging of fear), and is much more comfortable in transcribing aimless dorm-room paranoia or the TV shows that the malefactors anesthetize themselves with as fate ticks down. By telegraphing the murders, Tartt wants us to be continually horrified at these kids—while inviting us to semi-enjoy their manneristic fetishes and refined tastes. This ersatz-Fitzgerald mix of moralizing and mirror-looking (Jay McInerney shook and poured the shaker first) is very 80's—and in Tartt's strenuous version already seems dated, formulaic. Les Nerds du Mal—and about as deep (if not nearly as involving) as a TV movie.
Pub Date: Sept. 16, 1992
ISBN: 1400031702
Page Count: 592
Publisher: Knopf
Review Posted Online: May 19, 2010
Kirkus Reviews Issue: July 1, 1992
BOOK REVIEW
BOOK REVIEW
SEEN & HEARD
SEEN & HEARD
SEEN & HEARD
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