So lazy and off-the-cuff that one wonders if the author even bothered to reread her first draft.
Though billed as a novel, this very slight tale of a man and woman who switch souls on a stairway cedes about half its pages to an acerbic continuation of Weldon’s recent memoir, Auto da Fay (2003).
If only it were that engrossing. The narrative begins well enough, introducing us to Trisha, who gave up a modestly successful acting career nine years ago when she won the lottery but has now run through every penny. Selling all the expensive junk she acquired will barely cover her debts, so sexy, goodhearted, not-so-young Trisha goes to live above a dry-cleaners in a fringe-y section of London, promising the rapacious female proprietor that she will help out with the mending. “So far so good,” as Weldon writes after her cogent introduction of a heroine whose “soul was much like her mattress: soiled but comfortable.” Unfortunately, this phrase introduces the author’s rambling memories of her life and loves, which increasingly intrude into Trisha’s story and ensure that readers are captivated by neither. Just as we relax into Weldon’s amusingly cranky reminiscences, deciding that we will forgive the 73-year-old writer a certain amount of old-fart complaining (“our whole existence is threaded through with cheapo TV fiction”), we’re yanked back to Trisha or—worse—Peter, the yuppie who eventually ends up in her body and his tiresome girlfriend Doralee. (It’s symptomatic of the book’s general sloppiness that Doralee is “size 10 aiming for a size 8” in one chapter, a “size six thirty-two-year-old” 23 pages later.) Weldon’s eye for human weakness and vanity is as sharp and unforgiving as ever, and there’s mean-spirited fun to be had in her blistering account of husband Ron Weldon’s self-pity and self-serving contempt for his wife’s popular success. But she barely tries to make her absurd plot premise credible, or at least compelling, and she blows off her characters with a blood-soaked but silly finale.
So lazy and off-the-cuff that one wonders if the author even bothered to reread her first draft.Pub Date: Dec. 1, 2004
ISBN: 0-8021-1787-2
Page Count: 320
Publisher: Atlantic Monthly
Review Posted Online: May 19, 2010
Kirkus Reviews Issue: Sept. 15, 2004
Absolutely enthralling. Read it.
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
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BOOK TO SCREEN
"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
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