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ASCENSION

Name: ASCENSION
Author: Steven Galloway
ISBN: 0-7867-1208-2

by Steven Galloway ‧ RELEASE DATE: Sept. 1, 2003

Galloway’s high-altitude romance, for all its intensity, is not enough to sustain a full-length novel.

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The life story of a high-wire artist, in a US debut from Canadian second-novelist Galloway.

Salvo Ursari is a Rom (gypsy). As a nine-year-old in the Hungary of 1919, he watches a gadje (non-Roma) mob burn down the family home; his parents die in the fire, but Salvo escapes to Budapest. These early scenes, interwoven with Romany folk tales, show a resilient culture fighting ethnic oppressors. Everything changes when the teenaged Salvo sees his first wire act and meets the mysterious impresario Tomas Skosa. The latter realizes Salvo is a natural, though he proves a cruel taskmaster. Immobility is the key, says Skosa: “make the wire yours.” Thus begins the romance between artist and wire; in a large cast of one-dimensional characters, they are the only two that matter. On the ground Salvo is a dour neurotic; in the air he is the epitome of grace. Not that the ground is all bad: Salvo will have a joyful reunion with siblings he had given up for dead, and they will become part of the act. Eventually, they run afoul of the Gestapo but are saved by a job offer from America’s top circus impresario, and enjoy a sensational debut in New York. The huge clan that runs the circus, however, is riddled with feuds; when one of the clan, Anna, falls for and marries Salvo, she is promptly disinherited. But Galloway’s attempts to flesh out the Ursaris’ acrobatics into a circus novel complete with Big Tent politics are too superficial to work. As for Anna, only years later does she realize the wire complements Salvo in a way she cannot; by now (it’s 1959) their twin daughters are part of an eight-member troupe. When the girls die in a too-risky maneuver, Anna’s anger with Salvo borders on hate. Later, Salvo himself will meet his end on a wire between the World Trade Center’s twin towers.

Galloway’s high-altitude romance, for all its intensity, is not enough to sustain a full-length novel.

Pub Date: Sept. 1, 2003

ISBN: 0-7867-1208-2

Page Count: 280

Publisher: N/A

Review Posted Online: June 24, 2010

Kirkus Reviews Issue: June 15, 2003

Categories:

LITERARY FICTION

- BOOK REVIEW
THE CONFABULIST
by Steven Galloway

- BOOK REVIEW
THE CELLIST OF SARAJEVO
by Steven Galloway

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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.