Refreshingly tart reflections on family fragmentation and its aftershocks.
A finely detailed debut collection of stories set in Canada from the 1960s to the present.
Alward often begins in a sharply evoked past time and then swoops forward into the present to record the impact of a past experience on her characters. In the brief and evocative title story, she opens in the seemingly familiar territory of a party in the 1970s that is being observed by children exiled upstairs while “the grownups put on their party clothes and seemed to forget us.” In her bedroom, the narrator, 10 or 11 at the time, is visited by one of her parents’ friends, and what might have gone horribly wrong doesn’t only because her brother appears at the door. Decades later, her parents divorced, the narrator finds herself inexplicably seeking this man “in beer cellars and dance halls and country-and-western bars.” Two of the stories view a similarly splintered nuclear family from radically different angles. In “Old Growth,” Gwyneth takes a road trip with her ex-husband, Ray, to check out some land he intends to buy, while in “Bear Country,” set a few years earlier but appearing later in the collection, Ray, in the family cabin soon to be sold, spends the summer with his troubled teenage son while a bear lurks nearby. Alward is a master of near disasters: “Bundle of Joy” starts out as a satire about a critical mother going for a visit to meet her infant grandson and complaining about the infant’s short legs and her son-in-law’s beard, which reminds her of “a neglected box hedge.” As grandma Ruth consumes ever more alcohol, the story veers into an account of an accident involving the child and then takes an unexpected turn into sympathy for Ruth. With a coolly dispassionate voice, Alward views the small horrors of domesticity, “the ungodly screech of the Fisher-Price phone as its bulbous eyes rolled back” or the creaking strain on a marriage inflicted by the necessity of removing six layers of wallpaper, and turns them into stories whose implications reverberate far beyond the walls of any home.
Refreshingly tart reflections on family fragmentation and its aftershocks.Pub Date: Sept. 12, 2023
ISBN: 9781771965620
Page Count: 224
Publisher: Biblioasis
Review Posted Online: June 8, 2023
Kirkus Reviews Issue: July 1, 2023
Uneven but fitfully amusing.
Betrayed by her husband, a severely depressed young woman gets drawn into the over-the-top festivities at a lavish wedding.
Phoebe Stone, who teaches English literature at a St. Louis college, is plotting her own demise. Her husband, Matt, has left her for another woman, and Phoebe is taking it hard. Indeed, she's determined just where and how she will end it all: at an oceanfront hotel in Newport, where she will lie on a king-sized canopy bed and take a bottle of her cat’s painkillers. At the hotel, Phoebe meets bride-to-be Lila, a headstrong rich girl presiding over her own extravagant six-day wedding celebration. Lila thought she had booked every room in the hotel, and learning of Phoebe's suicidal intentions, she forbids this stray guest from disrupting the nuptials: “No. You definitely can’t kill yourself. This is my wedding week.” After the punchy opening, a grim flashback to the meltdown of Phoebe's marriage temporarily darkens the mood, but things pick up when spoiled Lila interrupts Phoebe's preparations and sweeps her up in the wedding juggernaut. The slide from earnest drama to broad farce is somewhat jarring, but from this point on, Espach crafts an enjoyable—if overstuffed—comedy of manners. When the original maid of honor drops out, Phoebe is persuaded, against her better judgment, to take her place. There’s some fun to be had here: The wedding party—including groom-to-be Gary, a widower, and his 11-year-old daughter—takes surfing lessons; the women in the group have a session with a Sex Woman. But it all goes on too long, and the humor can seem forced, reaching a low point when someone has sex with the vintage wedding car (you don’t want to know the details). Later, when two characters have a meet-cute in a hot tub, readers will guess exactly how the marriage plot resolves.
Uneven but fitfully amusing.Pub Date: July 30, 2024
ISBN: 9781250899576
Page Count: 384
Publisher: Henry Holt
Review Posted Online: Sept. 13, 2024
BOOK REVIEW
BOOK REVIEW
SEEN & HEARD
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
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