Think of it as a Korean rejoinder to The Name of the Rose, with some Kazantzakis thrown in for good measure.
A deepening mystery with a religious edge—and a world away from the weak tea of Dan Brown.
Sgt. Nam is a man who is neither here nor there. From a small country town in Korea, he had an adolescence so blank that it "left no memories, sad or happy.” He is not especially good at his job but not bad, either, and the job “afforded neither satisfaction nor regret.” He became a cop after dropping out of an utterly mediocre university. What he does know, with the passage of time, is that time passes too quickly, and now his own life is quickened by the discovery of an odd manuscript surrounding an even odder missing persons case, the disappeared person in question a seminarian who, as his writings reveal, had been concocting a decidedly contrarian version of Christianity that would have occasioned an auto-da-fé in an earlier time. For Sgt. Nam, “whose life had long been spent among statements written in a clichéd style full of Chinese characters, the words were barely comprehensible.” Yet, finally engaged, he presses on, hoping to find clues in the godly fellow’s writings, even as Min Yoseop’s manuscript becomes more pointed and less acquiescent to the orthodox view: if the meek and the poor are the inheritors and true owners of the world, then why do they have nothing? And more, as the protagonist asks Jesus, “Why did you so rashly show a miracle you will not employ again? Don’t you realize that you will only be able to impress them again with an even greater miracle?” Adultery, apostasy, homicide, assumed identities—all figure in the tale, even if its dominant tone is one of anomie. The story takes time to unfold, and the close is a little too obvious, but it’s an engaging intellectual mystery all the same.
Think of it as a Korean rejoinder to The Name of the Rose, with some Kazantzakis thrown in for good measure.Pub Date: Dec. 8, 2015
ISBN: 978-1-62897-119-4
Page Count: 208
Publisher: Dalkey Archive
Review Posted Online: Sept. 23, 2015
Kirkus Reviews Issue: Oct. 1, 2015
BOOK REVIEW
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
A modern day fable, with modern implications in a deceiving simplicity, by the author of Dickens. Dali and Others (Reynal & Hitchcock, p. 138), whose critical brilliance is well adapted to this type of satire. This tells of the revolt on a farm, against humans, when the pigs take over the intellectual superiority, training the horses, cows, sheep, etc., into acknowledging their greatness. The first hints come with the reading out of a pig who instigated the building of a windmill, so that the electric power would be theirs, the idea taken over by Napoleon who becomes topman with no maybes about it. Napoleon trains the young puppies to be his guards, dickers with humans, gradually instigates a reign of terror, and breaks the final commandment against any animal walking on two legs. The old faithful followers find themselves no better off for food and work than they were when man ruled them, learn their final disgrace when they see Napoleon and Squealer carousing with their enemies... A basic statement of the evils of dictatorship in that it not only corrupts the leaders, but deadens the intelligence and awareness of those led so that tyranny is inevitable. Mr. Orwell's animals exist in their own right, with a narrative as individual as it is apt in political parody.
Pub Date: Aug. 26, 1946
ISBN: 0452277507
Page Count: 114
Publisher: Harcourt, Brace
Review Posted Online: Nov. 2, 2011
Kirkus Reviews Issue: Aug. 1, 1946
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