The author provides first a tragic and then a happy ending, relying in both cases on the readers’ emotions to give the...
An arch metaphysical mystery from Smith (The Divine Comedy of John Venner, 1992, etc.).
This is the kind of book in which Mafia goons say things like, “What we have here is text and commentary,” and when someone administers a lie detector test, he asks, “Are you in league with the dark gods?” The guy with the dark god obsession is artist Cosmo Dust (get it?), who has had painful experience with the randomness of fate: His adored wife Cathy died after eating an Easter egg laced with cyanide by an unknown maniac. At first it seems that this will be a relatively conventional story of grieving, as we meet Cosmo in Las Vegas shortly before Christmas and shortly after he’s quit his job painting a replica of the Sistine Chapel ceiling for the Golden Calf casino (get it?). His memories of Cathy tell a touching story of love and loss. It’s too bad that they lead into a convoluted saga involving a dead cocktail waitress and Cosmo’s flight from the law with a baby and a Mafia chief’s daughter—no, actually she may be Pope John Paul I’s illegitimate daughter, or maybe she’s the female Messiah that Gnostic Christians have been waiting for. Readers inclined to say, “huh?,” at this point are not the right audience for Smith’s mannered narrative, which really goes off the rails when characters begin talking about Earth and counter-Earth (the former moves from genuine to fake, the latter in the opposite direction) and about “intermittency,” which is “a moment when the old order is discovered again.” All this high-falutin’ chat sends Cosmo and the Pope’s daughter to the Venetian hotel’s fake Piazza San Marco, where in the novel’s most arbitrary twist, Cosmo meets the man who murdered his wife.
The author provides first a tragic and then a happy ending, relying in both cases on the readers’ emotions to give the dénouement a weight his highly artificial text has not earned.Pub Date: Aug. 23, 2005
ISBN: 1-4000-8186-6
Page Count: 288
Publisher: Three Rivers/Crown
Review Posted Online: May 19, 2010
Kirkus Reviews Issue: June 15, 2005
BOOK REVIEW
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
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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