Delightful nonsense that will lift a lot of spirits.
The hero (of sorts) has aged a year in this wildly implausible sequel to The 100-Year-Old Man Who Climbed Out a Window and Disappeared (2012).
Reaching age 101 hasn’t slowed Allan Karlsson, who travels from continent to continent with his thieving friend, Julius Jonsson. A hot air balloon becomes untethered in Indonesia, and the gentlemen are soon afloat in the Indian Ocean. A North Korean bulk carrier rescues them on its way to pick up four illicit kilos of enriched uranium in Madagascar. The ship’s captain takes them back to North Korea, where they meet Kim Jong-un and convince him that Allan is a nuclear weapons expert who invented “hetisostat pressure” and that Julius is an asparagus expert. Allan gives a North Korean engineer a formula for vitamin C and smelling salts, or possibly toothpaste and bleach. When Kim kicks the Swedes out of the country, Allan picks up a briefcase with the uranium in it—easy to do, since all North Korean briefcases look alike. Allan considers giving the uranium to Donald Trump until they meet and Allan decides that the U.S. president is “awfully close to exploding all on his own” and “should be diagnosed with something.” Then he writes a letter on three napkins to Angela Merkel, who comes across as the sanest person in the book. Early on, Allan obtains a “black tablet” that shows news, music, and naked ladies. Thus he learns more than Trump, who learns all that’s worth knowing from Fox. Allan and Julius meet a grocer/coffin-maker and help her sell designer coffins at a travel and tourism trade fair. Allan discovers Twitter and Facebook, Julius plants asparagus with an assist from Merkel, and a bad guy in Africa learns the hard way what lions like to eat.
Delightful nonsense that will lift a lot of spirits.Pub Date: Jan. 15, 2019
ISBN: 978-0-06-283855-1
Page Count: 448
Publisher: Morrow/HarperCollins
Review Posted Online: Dec. 10, 2018
Kirkus Reviews Issue: Jan. 1, 2019
BOOK REVIEW
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
SEEN & HEARD
BOOK TO SCREEN
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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