Refreshing and spare, like a bittersweet melody echoing in an empty hallway, Matthewson's debut novel will linger in the...
In London, people suddenly, inexplicably begin to lose things both physical (the wall of a house, piano keys) and intangible (their way, their status).
This novel breathes life into the cracks of everyday existence, creating a world in which even metaphorical loss creates a physical absence. Jake, whose mother has recently died, serves most closely as a central character as he begins to collect lost things, displaying an uncanny ability to understand the story of each thing he finds. His relationship with his father, however, begins to literally disappear at the same time, and his father’s girlfriend, Delia, who has lost direction in her own life, must fight to bring them back together. Marketed as a novel, this often reads more like a collection of very short stories. As the fragments of individual stories begin to coalesce, however, instead of feeling forced or overly clever like many ensemble pieces, the connections only deepen the individual—and the novel’s collective—sense of loss. There are moments of magical realism (a girl slowly becomes a tree) and moments of humor (a man one day cannot find his office building, therefore literally “losing his job”). Taken together, they provide a quiet but heartfelt commentary on the unpredictability and isolation of modern life. We may live in an age where everything seems to be at our fingertips all the time, but often these connections come at the expense of actual human relationships. The book “is a reminder that the world is not quite as we expect it to be,” and while that brings with it sadness, it also offers a sense of wonder at the limitless possibilities of existence.
Refreshing and spare, like a bittersweet melody echoing in an empty hallway, Matthewson's debut novel will linger in the reader’s memory.Pub Date: Feb. 3, 2015
ISBN: 978-0-00-756247-3
Page Count: 300
Publisher: The Friday Project
Review Posted Online: Nov. 17, 2014
Kirkus Reviews Issue: Dec. 1, 2014
BOOK REVIEW
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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