by Terry Farish ‧ RELEASE DATE: May 1, 2000
Many will take to these domestic particulars as to milk and honey.
Third adult novel by former YA writer Farish (If the Tiger, 1995, etc.), perhaps her most densely gestated and slowly delivered to the reader.
Virginia Woolf wanted not only a room of her own but her own sentence as well, not a male sentence marching its appointed rounds but a feminine sentence. Farish has taken up the fight by writing whole pages that feed on feminine sentience: the dark crinkling of pregnant nipples and the spruce smell of male skin amid queasy shifts of a woman’s hungers and moods. Here, she tells of fraying ties in a backwoods New Hampshire family and among members of a faded commune over 25 years. She dwells almost entirely on household detail and crossed feelings and much less on story. The characters pull or drift apart and come back together and part again. Christy Mahon returns from Vietnam with a neurosis about trip mines. His wartime duty was to sweep for mines ahead of advancing troops, and one day a close friend sweeping beside him was blown up. Now 29, a homesteader, and a history teacher at Franconia College—a kind of university for social dropouts during and after the war—Christy lives in the woods and still looks for land mines wherever he walks. Deborah Getsinger, 19, meets him on the beach near Portsmouth, falls for him, has sex with him, and follows him into his woods. They marry, part, remarry, part. We live with them through the seasons, canning tomatoes, plastering walls, raising son Ian to adulthood, and through their various friendships and loves, including Sonia, Deborah’s closest friend, and in the love that Sonia’s daughter, Patience, has for Ian. Feelings strained and rebuilt—evoked in engaging dialogue and the smells of apples and rainfall, in the heavy weight of a big Christmas get-together, even in the color in a scarf—form a crunchy humus on which the reader treads from one page to the next.
Many will take to these domestic particulars as to milk and honey.Pub Date: May 1, 2000
ISBN: 1-883642-52-3
Page Count: 263
Publisher: Steerforth
Review Posted Online: June 24, 2010
Kirkus Reviews Issue: April 1, 2000
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by Terry Farish
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by Terry Farish
by Margaret Atwood ‧ RELEASE DATE: Feb. 17, 1985
Tinny perhaps, but still a minutely rendered and impressively steady feminist vision of apocalypse.
The time is the not-so-distant future, when the US's spiraling social freedoms have finally called down a reaction, an Iranian-style repressive "monotheocracy" calling itself the Republic of Gilead—a Bible-thumping, racist, capital-punishing, and misogynistic rule that would do away with pleasure altogether were it not for one thing: that the Gileadan women, pure and true (as opposed to all the nonbelieving women, those who've ever been adulterous or married more than once), are found rarely fertile.
Thus are drafted a whole class of "handmaids," whose function is to bear the children of the elite, to be fecund or else (else being certain death, sent out to be toxic-waste removers on outlying islands). The narrative frame for Atwood's dystopian vision is the hopeless private testimony of one of these surrogate mothers, Offred ("of" plus the name of her male protector). Lying cradled by the body of the barren wife, being meanwhile serviced by the husband, Offred's "ceremony" must be successful—if she does not want to join the ranks of the other disappeared (which include her mother, her husband—dead—and small daughter, all taken away during the years of revolt). One Of her only human conduits is a gradually developing affair with her master's chauffeur—something that's balanced more than offset, though, by the master's hypocritically un-Puritan use of her as a kind of B-girl at private parties held by the ruling men in a spirit of nostalgia and lust. This latter relationship, edging into real need (the master's), is very effectively done; it highlights the handmaid's (read Everywoman's) eternal exploitation, profane or sacred ("We are two-legged wombs, that's all: sacred vessels, ambulatory chalices"). Atwood, to her credit, creates a chillingly specific, imaginable night-mare. The book is short on characterization—this is Atwood, never a warm writer, at her steeliest—and long on cynicism—it's got none of the human credibility of a work such as Walker Percy's Love In The Ruins. But the scariness is visceral, a world that's like a dangerous and even fatal grid, an electrified fence.
Tinny perhaps, but still a minutely rendered and impressively steady feminist vision of apocalypse.Pub Date: Feb. 17, 1985
ISBN: 038549081X
Page Count: -
Publisher: Houghton Mifflin
Review Posted Online: Sept. 16, 2011
Kirkus Reviews Issue: Jan. 15, 1985
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edited by Margaret Atwood & Douglas Preston
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SEEN & HEARD
BOOK TO SCREEN
by Genki Kawamura ; translated by Eric Selland ‧ RELEASE DATE: March 12, 2019
Jonathan Livingston Kitty, it’s not.
A lonely postman learns that he’s about to die—and reflects on life as he bargains with a Hawaiian-shirt–wearing devil.
The 30-year-old first-person narrator in filmmaker/novelist Kawamura’s slim novel is, by his own admission, “boring…a monotone guy,” so unimaginative that, when he learns he has a brain tumor, the bucket list he writes down is dull enough that “even the cat looked disgusted with me.” Luckily—or maybe not—a friendly devil, dubbed Aloha, pops onto the scene, and he’s willing to make a deal: an extra day of life in exchange for being allowed to remove something pleasant from the world. The first thing excised is phones, which goes well enough. (The narrator is pleasantly surprised to find that “people seemed to have no problem finding something to fill up their free time.”) But deals with the devil do have a way of getting complicated. This leads to shallow musings (“Sometimes, when you rewatch a film after not having seen it for a long time, it makes a totally different impression on you than it did the first time you saw it. Of course, the movie hasn’t changed; it’s you who’s changed") written in prose so awkward, it’s possibly satire (“Tears dripped down onto the letter like warm, salty drops of rain”). Even the postman’s beloved cat, who gains the power of speech, ends up being prim and annoying. The narrator ponders feelings about a lost love, his late mother, and his estranged father in a way that some readers might find moving at times. But for many, whatever made this book a bestseller in Japan is going to be lost in translation.
Jonathan Livingston Kitty, it’s not.Pub Date: March 12, 2019
ISBN: 978-1-250-29405-0
Page Count: 176
Publisher: Flatiron Books
Review Posted Online: Feb. 16, 2019
Kirkus Reviews Issue: March 1, 2019
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