An entertaining tale rich in schadenfreude as bad things happen to a hapless billionaire.
A gimlet-eyed writer observes the life of a New York property baron as it unravels amid personal, business, and legal woes.
Greenland (I Regret Everything: A Love Story, 2015, etc.) is a screenwriter and playwright whose fifth novel recalls Tom Wolfe’s The Bonfire of the Vanities—except the rich guy is an implausibly good person. Jay Gladstone inherited and expanded a New York real estate empire that has allowed him, by the year 2012, to own five homes and a professional basketball team, practice philanthropy, and bask in a well-buffed public persona. His biggest flaw is pride that slides toward myopic self-righteousness and can render him dangerously uncool on hot-button issues. Life is generally good, though—and then it isn’t. His star ballplayer doesn’t like his proposed new contract. Jay’s second wife wants a baby, which goes against the prenup. Jay’s college-age daughter from marriage No. 1 is sleeping with a black female classmate, who disrupts the family Seder with a pointed comment on black slaves vs. the Jews’ biblical slavery. Jay’s cousin and partner in the family firm is embezzling. But Jay is coping well until he drives his car into the aforementioned ballplayer after catching him in bed with Mrs. Gladstone No. 2. The scene is recorded on her smartphone and soon goes public, along with Jay’s statement: "Why does everyone in this family need to have sex with black people?" Racism has been a simmering theme in the book since a white cop shot a black man early on, through the Seder, and in the college students’ debate on racial politics as they prepare a play on the kidnapping of Patty Hearst. Now racism hangs heavy on Jay and his legal predicament, which dovetails with the political ambitions of a district attorney who needs a showcase trial with a racial component to appeal to various slices of the electorate. Greenland takes a Dickensian delight in letting the plot sprawl with parallels, digressions, false leads, and twists. The ultimate twist may be the ending, which puts Jay’s possible absolution in the unlikeliest quarter.
An entertaining tale rich in schadenfreude as bad things happen to a hapless billionaire.Pub Date: Aug. 21, 2018
ISBN: 978-1-60945-462-3
Page Count: 624
Publisher: Europa Editions
Review Posted Online: June 17, 2018
Kirkus Reviews Issue: July 1, 2018
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
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
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