Updike's adventurous 18th novel—a dystopian romance, set in the year 2020—contrasts intriguingly with last year's generational saga In the Beauty of the Lilies. In a privileged north-of-Boston neighborhood that recalls the hotbeds, so to speak, of such earlier novels as Couples and The Witches of Eastwick, narrator Ben Turnbull, a 66-year-old former investment counselor, lives in placid retirement with his younger second wife Gloria and spends his waning energies in occasional quasi-business trips to his old Boston office, golf with his male buddies, visits to and from his five children and ten grandchildren, and (over) heated dalliances with Deirdre, his favorite young whore, who makes house calls whenever Gloria's away. "The universe is collapsing," Ben opines—and indeed, in his insular postlapsarian little world, citizens pay protection money to competing mobsters (and, later, to Federal Express) in lieu of taxes, and Massachusetts "scrip" has replaced the once almighty dollar following a nuclear war the US lost to China. It's a clever premise, and an effective background for the somewhat attenuated story of Ben's adjustment to the changes in his world and in himself. And the novel contains some of Updike's funniest writing in years (Ben's precariously maintained détente with his energetic scold of a wife is most amusingly described), and his fluid, flexible prose and descriptive precision remain unimpaired. But the story wanders. Ben's many ruminations (science is his avocation), though wonderfully done, are nevertheless digressions that interrupt such far more interesting matters as the fate of a marauding doe that grazes among Gloria's flowers and shrubs, and Ben's avuncular relationship with three teenage "squatters" who appropriate his property and blithely shake him down. And the emphasis on Ben's relentless sex drive—metaphor for the life force or not—becomes, simply, tiresome. Never less than readable, but not nearly the book it might have been. Minor Updike.
Pub Date: Oct. 10, 1997
ISBN: 0-375-40006-0
Page Count: 352
Publisher: Knopf
Review Posted Online: May 19, 2010
Kirkus Reviews Issue: Aug. 1, 1997
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
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
© Copyright 2025 Kirkus Media LLC. All Rights Reserved.
Follow
Popular in this Genre
We can’t wait for you to join Kirkus!
It’s free and takes less than 10 seconds!
Already have an account? Log in.
OR
Sign in with GoogleTrouble signing in? Retrieve credentials.
Welcome Back!
OR
Sign in with GoogleTrouble signing in? Retrieve credentials.
