A darkly comic, thought-provoking, well-told story.
In this literary novel, a psychiatrist spends his 75th birthday dealing with the final details before his planned suicide.
The prolific Appel (The Liars’ Asylum, 2017, etc.) often begins his stories with a bang, and his latest book’s opening sentence is no exception: “On the day he was to hang himself, Millard Salter made his bed for the first time in fifty-seven years.” Although he’s not disappointed, unhappy, or ill, is still working as a psychiatrist, and has launched most of his children well in life, Millard hopes to avoid dying “dependent or diminished.” He’s in love with Delilah, 62, a severely ill woman whom he’s agreed to help die on this day, also his 75th birthday. He looks back on his long career when he stops by his office; reminisces about his family and two marriages as he visits his ex-wife Carol’s apartment and second wife Isabelle’s grave; and lunches with his youngest son, a 43-year-old layabout who doesn’t mention his father’s birthday. Millard’s plans are rationally thought out, but the irrational keeps erupting during his day: a lynx cub gets loose in the hospital; an explosion blasts the post office near his lunch meeting; a usurper has been buried in the psychiatrist’s spot next to Isabelle. (A fix is promised; “I’ll be back tomorrow to check,” says Millard in a secret joke.) A warmhearted surprise also awaits Millard, but whether any of this will distract him from his intent will be disclosed only in the final line. A physician, attorney, and bioethicist, Appel brings well-informed thoughtfulness, as always, to this work. There’s an excellent case to be made for Millard’s continued engagement in the world, and the author clearly presents it in all fairness. Equally, though, he deftly makes a case for letting go: of expectations for one’s children, of plans for tomorrow, of freedom from worry. Appel’s preoccupation with secrecy and helpful or seductive fictions enrich the tale, too, as with the cab driver whose master’s thesis involves getting men to pretend they know about nonexistent things.
A darkly comic, thought-provoking, well-told story.Pub Date: Nov. 7, 2017
ISBN: 978-1-5072-0408-5
Page Count: 272
Publisher: Gallery Books/Simon & Schuster
Review Posted Online: Jan. 8, 2018
Kirkus Reviews Issue: Feb. 1, 2018
Review Program: Kirkus Indie
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
This book sings with the terrible silence of dead civilizations in which once there was valor.
Written with quiet dignity that builds to a climax of tragic force, this book about the dissolution of an African tribe, its traditions, and values, represents a welcome departure from the familiar "Me, white brother" genre.
Written by a Nigerian African trained in missionary schools, this novel tells quietly the story of a brave man, Okonkwo, whose life has absolute validity in terms of his culture, and who exercises his prerogative as a warrior, father, and husband with unflinching single mindedness. But into the complex Nigerian village filters the teachings of strangers, teachings so alien to the tribe, that resistance is impossible. One must distinguish a force to be able to oppose it, and to most, the talk of Christian salvation is no more than the babbling of incoherent children. Still, with his guns and persistence, the white man, amoeba-like, gradually absorbs the native culture and in despair, Okonkwo, unable to withstand the corrosion of what he, alone, understands to be the life force of his people, hangs himself. In the formlessness of the dying culture, it is the missionary who takes note of the event, reminding himself to give Okonkwo's gesture a line or two in his work, The Pacification of the Primitive Tribes of the Lower Niger.
This book sings with the terrible silence of dead civilizations in which once there was valor.Pub Date: Jan. 23, 1958
ISBN: 0385474547
Page Count: 207
Publisher: McDowell, Obolensky
Review Posted Online: April 23, 2013
Kirkus Reviews Issue: Jan. 1, 1958
BOOK REVIEW
BOOK REVIEW
BOOK REVIEW
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