Next book

LEAVING HOME

At one point, Emma has a dream in which she knows “simply and conclusively, that I was loved.” Nothing in waking life...

A lusterless grad student of landscape-gardening trembles on the brink of taking an interest in life.

Narrow, reticent, self-contained—these words describe almost any Brookner heroine. They certainly fit Emma Roberts, who sums up her meager origins by saying, “we were a very small, not to say non-existent, family.” That family is comprised solely of Emma and her widowed mother. “If I was not extremely vigilant,” Emma notes, “I might run the risk of living her life over again.” Emma’s Uncle Rob is the quintessential Brooknerian Other. Rude and assertive, he detested Emma’s long-dead father and openly dislikes her on the basis of her paternity. Before his certitude, Emma and her mother simply ebb away to nothing. When Emma goes to France to research her thesis, she is befriended by a young library assistant named Françoise. Unlike Emma, Françoise is active, aggressive and highly sexed. She invites Emma home to her family’s country house and manipulates Emma, to her own advantage. Emma seems to take pleasure in allowing her to do so, in part so the full measure of Françoise’s character, or lack of it, will be revealed, but also because even a vicarious life is better than nothing. Emma manifests the same lack of energy in her dealings with men. And because both of the men she knows seem as spiritless as she, these relationships have all the fire of a blaze kindled from a single match and a damp log. Although Emma deplores her purposeless solitude, she works to maintain it and thinks disdainfully that she “prefers her gardens deserted.” The beautifully ordered prose of Brookner’s 23rd novel (Making Things Better, 2003, etc.) is the verbal equivalent of the empty gardens Emma inhabits.

At one point, Emma has a dream in which she knows “simply and conclusively, that I was loved.” Nothing in waking life affords her, or us, a comparable satisfaction.

Pub Date: Jan. 10, 2006

ISBN: 1-4000-6414-7

Page Count: 224

Publisher: Random House

Review Posted Online: June 24, 2010

Kirkus Reviews Issue: Nov. 1, 2005

Categories:

Awards & Accolades

Likes

  • Readers Vote
  • 20


Our Verdict

  • Our Verdict
  • GET IT


  • Kirkus Reviews'
    Best Books Of 2019


  • New York Times Bestseller


  • IndieBound Bestseller

Next book

NORMAL PEOPLE

Absolutely enthralling. Read it.

Awards & Accolades

Likes

  • Readers Vote
  • 20


Our Verdict

  • Our Verdict
  • GET IT


  • Kirkus Reviews'
    Best Books Of 2019


  • New York Times Bestseller


  • IndieBound Bestseller

A young Irish couple gets together, splits up, gets together, splits up—sorry, can't tell you how it ends!

Irish writer Rooney has made a trans-Atlantic splash since publishing her first novel, Conversations With Friends, in 2017. Her second has already won the Costa Novel Award, among other honors, since it was published in Ireland and Britain last year. In outline it's a simple story, but Rooney tells it with bravura intelligence, wit, and delicacy. Connell Waldron and Marianne Sheridan are classmates in the small Irish town of Carricklea, where his mother works for her family as a cleaner. It's 2011, after the financial crisis, which hovers around the edges of the book like a ghost. Connell is popular in school, good at soccer, and nice; Marianne is strange and friendless. They're the smartest kids in their class, and they forge an intimacy when Connell picks his mother up from Marianne's house. Soon they're having sex, but Connell doesn't want anyone to know and Marianne doesn't mind; either she really doesn't care, or it's all she thinks she deserves. Or both. Though one time when she's forced into a social situation with some of their classmates, she briefly fantasizes about what would happen if she revealed their connection: "How much terrifying and bewildering status would accrue to her in this one moment, how destabilising it would be, how destructive." When they both move to Dublin for Trinity College, their positions are swapped: Marianne now seems electric and in-demand while Connell feels adrift in this unfamiliar environment. Rooney's genius lies in her ability to track her characters' subtle shifts in power, both within themselves and in relation to each other, and the ways they do and don't know each other; they both feel most like themselves when they're together, but they still have disastrous failures of communication. "Sorry about last night," Marianne says to Connell in February 2012. Then Rooney elaborates: "She tries to pronounce this in a way that communicates several things: apology, painful embarrassment, some additional pained embarrassment that serves to ironise and dilute the painful kind, a sense that she knows she will be forgiven or is already, a desire not to 'make a big deal.' " Then: "Forget about it, he says." Rooney precisely articulates everything that's going on below the surface; there's humor and insight here as well as the pleasure of getting to know two prickly, complicated people as they try to figure out who they are and who they want to become.

Absolutely enthralling. Read it.

Pub Date: April 16, 2019

ISBN: 978-1-984-82217-8

Page Count: 288

Publisher: Hogarth

Review Posted Online: Feb. 17, 2019

Kirkus Reviews Issue: March 1, 2019

Categories:
Next book

THE BLUEST EYE

"This soil," concludes the young narrator of this quiet chronicle of garrotted innocence, "is bad for all kinds of flowers. Certain seeds it will not nurture, certain fruit it will not bear." And among the exclusions of white rural Ohio, echoed by black respectability, is ugly, black, loveless, twelve-year-old Pecola. But in a world where blue-eyed gifts are clucked over and admired, and the Pecolas are simply not seen, there is always the possibility of the dream and wish—for blue eyes. Born of a mother who adjusted her life to the clarity and serenity of white households and "acquired virtues that were easy to maintain" and a father, Cholly, stunted by early rejections and humiliations, Pecola just might have been loved—for in raping his daughter Cholly did at least touch her. But "Love is never better than the lover," and with the death of her baby, the child herself, accepting absolutely the gift of blue eyes from a faith healer (whose perverse interest in little girls does not preclude understanding), inches over into madness. A skillful understated tribute to the fall of a sparrow for whose small tragedy there was no watching eye.

Pub Date: Oct. 29, 1970

ISBN: 0375411550

Page Count: -

Publisher: Holt Rinehart & Winston

Review Posted Online: Sept. 30, 2011

Kirkus Reviews Issue: Oct. 1, 1970

Categories:
Close Quickview