Poignant but not outstanding.
Published in 1944, now reissued in a new translation, this influential first novel by prize-winning Spanish author Laforet (1921–2004) describes one hellish year in the life of a young woman.
In the aftermath of the Spanish Civil War, orphaned 18-year-old Andrea travels from the provinces to Barcelona to attend university. Her childhood memories of her grandparents’ apartment are good, so it comes as a bitter surprise when she finds herself plunged into bedlam. Her widowed grandmother is sweet but feeble. Her uncles Juan and Román are at each other’s throats. Their sister Angustias is a relentless scold. Juan’s young wife Gloria is foolish and vain. The war is mentioned only obliquely, though it had a direct effect on Román, who was imprisoned and tortured; now he’s engaged in unspecified smuggling, when he’s not making trouble and playing his violin. At least Román has talent—unlike Juan, who turns out bad paintings when he’s not beating Gloria. Andrea finds some relief on campus, where she becomes friendly with self-assured, manipulative Ena, and the apartment becomes marginally less claustrophobic when Aunt Angustias leaves to enter a convent. Still, privacy is nonexistent, food is scarce, and there’s a disquieting new wrinkle when Ena starts visiting Román. This is a Cinderella story without a Prince Charming; Andrea is invited to a party by Pons, a wealthy fellow student, but her acute self-consciousness prevents her from having a good time. Laforet’s portrait of female vulnerability is vivid in its immediacy, but the text is repetitive and poorly structured. Ena’s story, a compelling soap opera, threatens to eclipse the main narrative, and it seems like an easy out to close with Andrea leaving for Madrid to live with Ena. It’s also a problem in a coming-of-age story to close with the narrator concluding that she is “taking nothing” from her nightmarish year. Any epiphany for Andrea, apparently, will come long after the novel ends.
Poignant but not outstanding.Pub Date: Feb. 13, 2007
ISBN: 0-679-64345-1
Page Count: 272
Publisher: Modern Library
Review Posted Online: May 19, 2010
Kirkus Reviews Issue: Dec. 1, 2006
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
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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