IN REVERE, IN THOSE DAYS

Name: IN REVERE, IN THOSE DAYS
Author: Roland Merullo
ISBN: 0-609-61032-5

by Roland Merullo ‧ RELEASE DATE: Sept. 1, 2002

Emotionally complex, politically intelligent, beautifully written: Among the best from a novelist in the classic American...

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In a small city north of Boston in the late ’60s, a boy expands his horizons even as he discovers the enduring strength of “loyalty to a neighborhood and affection for a family—those twin steel bonds of the working class”—in Merullo’s elegiac fourth novel, a companion to Revere Beach Boulevard (1998).

Anthony Benedetto looks back on his youth in Revere, Massachusetts, from the vantage of middle age in rural Vermont, where he is a modestly successful portrait painter. Tonio is only 11 when his parents die in a plane crash; he’s raised by his gentle, reflective grandfather and strong, serene grandmother, who temper his early introduction to life’s existential uncertainty with their personal examples of loving devotion to duty, work, and kin. His anxious, edgy uncle Peter, a Golden Gloves boxer who retreated back to the neighborhood after losing a crucial bout, reminds him how confining their world can be. Peter’s daughter Rosalie is Tonio’s close friend, but she pushes him away in adolescence, when Tonio’s good grades and hockey skills take him to Exeter while Rosalie remains in the tough local high school, running around with its meanest creep. Tonio feels comfortable enough among Exeter’s privileged students, though he and his African-American roommate are drawn especially close by their ambiguous relationship with the less fortunate folks back home now that they’ve “gone off and joined the oppressor.” Despite a suicide attempt, a lingering death, and references to several future bad ends, the narrator’s tone is rueful and meditative rather than anguished. Most writers begin with their coming-of-agers, but Merullo was wise to wait. His artistic maturity gives us a tale of sentiment without sentimentality as he conveys the inevitability of loss and the divisions of class with sadness but not bitterness.

Emotionally complex, politically intelligent, beautifully written: Among the best from a novelist in the classic American tradition.

Pub Date: Sept. 1, 2002

ISBN: 0-609-61032-5

Page Count: 320

Publisher: Shaye Areheart/Harmony

Review Posted Online: May 19, 2010

Kirkus Reviews Issue: July 1, 2002

Categories:

LITERARY FICTION

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IF CATS DISAPPEARED FROM THE WORLD

by Genki Kawamura ; translated by Eric Selland ‧ RELEASE DATE: March 12, 2019

Jonathan Livingston Kitty, it’s not.

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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

Categories:

LITERARY FICTION

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THE SECRET HISTORY

by Donna Tartt ‧ RELEASE DATE: Sept. 16, 1992

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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.