The stakes feel low, but the water’s fine.
An octogenarian and a young journalist unite to save a neighborhood pool in London in this debut novel.
In many ways, this meditation on community and swimming follows in the footsteps of the enormously popular A Man Called Ove. Both books have an older protagonist—in this case, 86-year-old Rosemary—who has been recently widowed. Both highlight the unexpected benefits of new friendship at this stage in life. Both are charming and heartwarming. But Ove has teeth. What this novel offers instead is an abundance of lively detail and sweetness. The Brixton neighborhood of London is the setting, and it is delightfully immersive. Sitting in Brixton’s large public park, the swimming pool of the title is not fancy, but for the characters involved, it is miraculous. Swimming is a baptism; after a dip, troubles are more bearable. Rosemary in particular has a long history with the pool, having swum there as a child during the war when most other children were evacuated and regularly with her husband, George, throughout their marriage. But it is Kate, the novel’s other protagonist, who undergoes the greatest transformation. She begins as a chronically depressed, anxious, and friendless young journalist and ends as the leader of the charge to save the pool from purchase and privatization. That goal is what first leads Kate to Rosemary, then bonds them, then opens Brixton to her as a place she can call home. The plot is straightforward, as is, for the most part, the story of Rosemary and George’s courtship and marriage, told simultaneously. Rosemary's miscarriages (ultimately, they have no children) and George’s death are barely touched on, seemingly in favor of happier memories of swimming, of which there are countless.
The stakes feel low, but the water’s fine.Pub Date: July 10, 2018
ISBN: 978-1-5011-8203-7
Page Count: 320
Publisher: Simon & Schuster
Review Posted Online: April 16, 2018
Kirkus Reviews Issue: May 1, 2018
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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