Not so bad for soap opera, but pretty cornball all the same.
Tuten’s latest (Van Gogh’s Bad Café, 1997, etc.) is basically a potboiler romance in academic drag.
Dominique just can’t get herself straight. An American art historian, she grew up in a Long Island town that she managed to escape on the strength of her brains and her eyes, becoming an authority on Goya and Poussin. A superficial leftist in her youth, she fell in love with her college classmate Rex, who was so committed to the revolution that he dropped out of academic life to join student agitators in Mexico. Dominique plodded on with graduate school and studied in Paris for a while under her mentor Professor Morin, who fell in love though more than 30 years her senior. In Paris, she meets a rich American businessman, Eric Wynan, who falls in love with her, too. But she is really interested in getting back together with Rex, now in Paris with some French Communists he met in Mexico. One day in the Luxembourg Gardens, Dominique discovers him out for a walk—with his baby boy Kenji. It turns out that he had the child by a Japanese revolutionary who later died—or did she? He now lives in a working-class suburb inhabited mainly by North Africans, and he works as a bicycle repairman. To help him, Dominique gets Eric to invest in setting up a bicycle shop for Rex—but tragedy intervenes when Kenji disappears. Rex is so distraught that he becomes a Sufi and moves to North Africa. Eric loses his investment, Professor Morin dies, and Dominique is denied tenure. Can things get any worse? You bet: Dominique is diagnosed with cancer and has to begin a grueling course of chemotherapy. Fortunately, she still has Eric to rely on, and he helps her financially. But does she love him? And will she ever see Rex again?
Not so bad for soap opera, but pretty cornball all the same.Pub Date: Oct. 1, 2002
ISBN: 0-393-05105-6
Page Count: 256
Publisher: Norton
Review Posted Online: May 19, 2010
Kirkus Reviews Issue: July 15, 2002
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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