Atonement

This book was thoroughly enjoyable. I thought it was very well written. It effortlessly flowed between time periods and characters’ points of view. Briony was believable as a smart and sassy little girl and as an adult, her voice still rang true. Cecilia, Robbie and Mrs. Tallis are all vividly portrayed.

There were moments of hilarity early on in the book and it could have easily ventured into a period piece with quiet thoughtful conversations and brooding almost-friendship-turned-love in the style of Pride and Prejudice.

Instead, there was a rape of a child. This singular moment changes everyone’s lives. That is really what the novel is about. How a singular moment, one decision can change something drastically forever. Thirteen is a prudish age for many little girls, and Briony misunderstands. She means no malice but damns everyone around her, including herself. Fiona, the pathetic victim marries the criminal. Cecilia cuts her family off. Robbie goes to jail and then war instead of medical school.

Briony feels that she has crossed the road into adulthood. In truth, she has. She will never be the same. Though initially it seems there may be hope, Briony can never quite pay her penance.

The ending is so profoundly sad. In a very off-handed way, with little fanfare or detail, we find that Robbie and Cecilia lose their lives due to the rape and Briony’s foolishness. The unfairness that Briony, Fiona and the rapist outlive them all is almost too much to bear. There is no Hollywood ending in Britain.

I loved this book. I loved its encompassing of each scenarios from separate points of view. I  loved the tenderness of it. What I loved the most was the way it ran the spectrum of emotions from joy, to longing, to hope, to sorrow.

Chronicle of a Death Foretold

To say that I enjoyed Chronicle of a Death Foretold would be inaccurate, but I definitely appreciated it. I liked its brevity and the fact that it stuck to the point while still providing bits of color and background. It was never a chore to read.

The geographical setting is a beautiful coastal Caribbean town that one might like to visit. The setting never really gets muddied in spite of the dark deeds going on. There were places open at odd hours. I liked the idea of a convenience store by day, bar by night. The brothel sounded like a beautiful, happy place with a courtyard and gourd lanterns.

The characters were well drawn and fanciful.  I loved the imagery of the “eyes of an insomniac leopard”, referring to a favorite prostitute that never slept. The entire book has an ethereal quality to the setting and the characters. Even the superstitions of the culture are brought forth with such authority, that you find yourself absolutely agreeing to a romantic idea. Of course a dream meant something more. Of course one could die of a broken heart. This makes sense. The author easily gets you to come along.

The death was gruesome and graphic. It was difficult for me to read, but I appreciated the artistry in it. What I really thought was amazing was the way the Gabriel García Márquez presents everything in such a matter-of-fact way. The entire scene is laid out in colorful terms, but he is even-handed with his characters. There is a lot of nobility in that. Santiago is a sexual predator but also a friend, and a victim of a brutal murder for an act he likely didn’t commit. Angela is probably a liar who caused a man to die, but she is also a confused girl with an overbearing and abusive mother. Everyone is presented in all of their glory, vices and virtues. I love that. If you only look at the worst trait in anyone, of course you will see a monster. What is presented here is a cast of real characters.

I came away with the feeling that people are human above all else. In spite of the fact that the murderers were reluctant and that the victim was unlikely. Although there were countless ways that the crime could have been avoided. People repeatedly forget, get distracted, procrastinate, second-guess themselves, feel embarrassed, feel obligated, miscommunicate and lie. This is the human experience. These all take place hundreds of times throughout the novella to culminate it one man’s preventable death.

black knight

I'm counting sheep
Waiting for The Sleep
To swallow me whole
Murder this day
Let the night smother it
Keep it down,  keep it quiet
And for fuck's sake,
Don't. Think.
Rescue me.

Einstein's Dreams

This novel was a less a novel and more series of whimsical vignettes. There were a few chapters describing the life of a young Einstein and his colleague. Other than that there was not a real plot or story arc. 

Most chapters contained a creative idea about how time might be structured and how the human experience would react. I felt that the book went on a bit too long for what it was. However, I found the description of Albert Einstein, the young man, and his dear friend Besso to be endearing. 

I enjoyed the Dr. Seussesque moving buildings and houses on stilts. I appreciated the touching wish to be frozen in time in your most perfect moment and the thoughts on the shifting perception of the past. What I found profound were the statements each vignette made. How would one act differently if there were infinite time? If life lasted a mere day, how would you spend it? The thoughts on love when there is no past were soul-stirring. Lovers’ attraction never waned. They stayed up all night as if each night was the first. The chapter describing people who receive a revelation about their future was interesting as some tried to fight what they knew what must be. 

What was said about the human experience in these fantastic stories speaks loudly to why we act the way we do. How do we each chose to spend what is more valuable than any currency? We each have an unknown allotted amount and when it has run out, you cannot buy, bargain or beg for more.

The Hours

The Hours seemed to revolve around the theme “Nothing matters, everyone dies.” This would seem, at first glance, very depressing. In truth, I did find The Hours fairly depressing, but that did not preclude me from liking it.
One of the reasons that it was enjoyable was the very real characters, each one complete with a background, strengths and imperfections. Michael Cunningham has a knack for very whole characters. Even Mary Krull and Walter Hardy, who appeared only briefly, had personalities that were fleshed out with broad strokes. Their physical descriptions were articulated and an idea of their histories and futures were alluded to. Actually, the The Hours gives the feeling that it might be a chapter in a larger book. It does not try to give a complete history, and almost assumes that the reader has some prior knowledge about things. It also does not tie everything up in a neat bow or answer all the reader’s questions.
Because the novel occupying the space of only one day in each of the heroines’ lives. In order to draw time out that way, the author must go into great detail about background and the thoughts of each character. It did move fairly slowly in that regard, but it was able to hold my interest with it’s thoughtful and profound descriptions of feelings and surroundings. The extraordinary in the everyday sights and sounds gave it a “stop and smell the roses” feel, and not just that. In the undercurrent of the novel was the urgency to feel all things wonderful and sad.

Haroun and The Sea of Stories

I wanted to love this book. I admire Salman Rushdie. I liked the colorful wording and random references sprinkled throughout the book like Easter eggs. It reminded me very much of Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland which is one of my favorite books of all time. However, somewhere in the ornateness of the story, Rushdie lost my attention. About halfway through, I felt like I always do while standing in the National Cathedral. Amidst the carefully crafted gargoyles, stained glass, intricate ceilings and decorated door handles, I feel bewildered and overstimulated. I cannot take it all in. I cannot make the kind of sense of it that I would like to.
In trying to comprehend the theme of the story, I feel overwhelmed. I settled on “stories are invaluable”, though I toyed with “speech is worth fighting for” and “family first”. The sole reason I settled on this was that both Haroun and Soraya question the usefulness of a fictional story.
I liked Rushdie’s “real” world better than the dream world of Kahani. The city of K with its sadness factories and tangible characters were easier to grasp. The dream world required long descriptions of every fantastic aspect. I would get lost along the way, having to reread very carefully to try to picture what was being said. The characters, being several different species, were hard for me to focus on. The flowery descriptions of scenery and physical aspects of the characters left little room for their background and development. I wanted more from this book. I wanted more than a world full of interesting looking things. I wanted to feel something. Rushdie failed to make me really care.

An Excellent Day 10/9/13

We had apple, scones, and peanut butter and marshmallow fluff sandwiches for lunch. We did spx and it was lovely outside. I spent too much money but that is ok. We met We came back. I took the Clara Barton parkway and it was beautiful. When I got home the children were so engrossed in their books that they didn't get out of the car for a while. I took a little nap. Then we had beef stew and biscuits for dinner. I I drank a half a bottle of white wine that abby gave me. Miles and I worked on cleaning the house. We determined that we needed a filing cabinet. Then, I sent the boys to bed and I read Haroun until I fell asleep. It didn't take long.