The Handmaid's Tale

This is the second novel from Margaret Atwood that I've read and she is quickly becoming one of my favorites. The Blind Assassin was a great book I read earlier this year and I finally got around to following it up with The Handmaid's Tale. And while this novel lacks the plot complexity of the former, the writing is still first class and the story engrossing.

Set in the relatively near future, The Handmaid's Tale is a first person account of the dystopian society the United States has become after the assassination of the President and Congress by a fundamentalist religious group. Subtext informs the reader that fertility has become a major issue and so society has become very strictly ordered, with women not only being stripped of all rights, but becoming subjugates to the will of the ruling order of men. One strata of this new class system is the 'handmaid', women who are still fertile and are given as concubines to influential men ('commanders'). The wives of these commanders naturally resent the handmaids, but are a full part of the ceremony that takes place with the goal of procreation. Our narrator, Offred, slowly unfolds not only the lot she has been reduced to, but also gives a general history of how things came to be this way. A postscript sheds further light, but many Offred's ultimate fate remains somewhat of a mystery.

The novel raises a number of questions that could provide the grist for many meaningful conversations. One could argue that this is a feminist novel while another might argue that Atwood was trying to show a possible extreme reaction to feminism. I have no doubt that this book is a staple in Women's Studies and Women's Literature courses all over the world. I enjoyed this novel very much for its suspense, original plot, and for the way it made me think.

Another issue this book raised with me is the question of what constitutes science fiction. I noted in an earlier post that Atwood does not think of her novels as science fiction, and I think I understand that position with this book. While it is set in the future, does that automatically make a book fall within the 'science fiction' genre?

This novel was made into a film in the mid 90s starring the late Natasha Richardson.

The Last of Mr. Norris

This Christopher Isherwood novel was picked randomly off the list. I was intrigued when I found it on Amazon as they had one used copy in fair condition for $5 and two first editions for over $900! You can probably guess which I bought. I found out later that it can be found fairly readily as part of a two book collection called The Berlin Stories.

The cover of the version I have shows a man sitting on a couch with lots of young people around him engaged in some heavy petting. The blurbs on the cover promise lots of smut, orgies, and S&M, 1930s style. It turns out the book is very tame in regards to titillation. It is actually a pretty light spy/double cross/crime novel set in Berlin in the early 1930s. And while the title character does enjoy a little light bondage, most of the perversions promised on the cover are only hinted at in the text. Our narrator, Bradshaw, an English teacher in Berlin, meets Arthur Norris on a train to Berlin. They become fast friends and Bradshaw becomes intrigued by the effete, shady Norris. Slowly he becomes entangled in some of Norris' scams revolving around the nascent Communist party in Berlin and the rise of the Nazis. More interesting than the novel itself is the fact that this book and his subsequent Berlin stories were the basis for the famous musical and film Cabaret.

As a political thriller, it is fairly second-rate, although it is interesting to read a contemporary account of Berlin in between the wars from the English perspective, especially when the reader knows full well what will happen in a very short time. While this novel wasn't terrible, I'm not really sure how it merited making the list.

Miss Lonelyhearts/The Day of the Locust

Nathanael West produced only four novels during his short life. The best of the two are Miss Lonelyhearts (really a novella at 58 pages) and The Day of the Locust. I bought them packaged together in one book and read them back to back.

Miss Lonelyhearts is widely regarded as one of the finest works of the twentieth century. Set in early 1930s New York City, Miss Lonelyhearts is a man who writes an agony column for a daily newspaper. The hopelessness and hard luck that crosses his desk every day has begun to wear on him in significant ways. As he drifts through life in an alcohol haze, he vainly tries to find meaning in life, mostly through an attempt to embrace Christianity. His hard case boss Shrike and would be fiancee Betty offer contrasting views for him to latch on to. I had a mild hangover when I read this story, and the descriptions of drunkenness were tough to handle. The action is somewhat surreal, and as a look at the role of Christianity in an increasingly detached world, Miss Lonelyhearts works very well.

I enjoyed The Day of the Locust more of the two, however. What Miss Lonelyhearts did for (or to) New York, The Day of the Locust does in spades for Hollywood. West had moved to Hollywood to work on screenplays shortly before his death, and apparently he had a rich experience in a short time if this book is any indication. This novel captures the desperation, shallowness, and depravity of early Hollywood in all its glory. Tod Hackett is a young set designer with artistic ambitions who is hopelessly smitten by Faye, a wannabe actress. The story revolves around Tod and his fellow suitors (Earle, the cowboy, and Homer, the midwestern transplant) and their relative success in obtaining the unobtainable. In many ways Faye represents Hollywood in all its fatuousness: beautiful to look at, entertaining to be a part of, but ultimately hollow. The scene of mob violence at the end is truly evocative, and the book stands as an indictment as well as a strange celebration of the insanity of the place and era.

The Bell Jar

I honestly had no idea what to expect of The Bell Jar. I knew who Sylvia Plath was and how she died, but I know of her as a poet and was actually unaware that she had published any novels. In all honesty, I thought The Bell Jar would be a collection of poetry. Instead, it is a novel that seems to be from the Holden Caulfield school of narrators who have disengaged from life after seeing the pointlessness of the whole thing.

Esther Greenwood is a young woman who has regularly achieved academic excellence and at the beginning of the novel is on a month long internship for a New York based magazine. In the first half of the novel, Esther relates her adventures in New York, some comic, some sad. She feels separate from other people, but not in a way that is particularly different than what most people go through from time to time. However, once she returns home to find that she did not get accepted into a writing program as she had anticipated, things take a terrible turn and she attempts suicide. The second half of the novel is a harrowing first person description of a nervous breakdown in action. While the novel ends on a hopeful note, the subsequent tragedy of Plath's life leaves the reader feeling that the hopefulness will be short lived.

After reading and researching, I now understand that The Bell Jar is largely autobiographical. Virtually everything and everyone in the story mirror real events and people in Plath's life. In fact, before she died, Plath insisted the novel not be published in the United States and was only published in the UK under a pseudonym. One feels slightly uncomfortable reading the novel knowing that it is a relatively true account, especially when one knows the rest of the story and the relief that the narrator has survived her ordeal is undercut by the knowledge of her ultimate fate.

Farewell, My Lovely

"I got up on my feet and went over to the bowl in the corner and threw cold water on my face. After a little while I felt a little better, but very little. I needed a drink, I needed a lot of life insurance, I needed a vacation, I needed a home in the country. What I had was a coat, a hat, and a gun. I put them on and went out of the room."

Farewell, My Lovely is entirely built of this type of prose, lyrical and purple at the same time. I discussed earlier how difficult it is to read a hard boiled detective tale because of the constant satirizing and diminishing returns of the genre. Still, after Dashiell Hammett and Sam Spade, the quintessential L.A. hard case has got to be Raymond Chandler's Phillip Marlowe. When a character is portrayed in film by people like Robert Mitchum and Humphrey Bogart, you know he's tough.

Farewell, My Lovely was the second of Chandler's Marlowe novels. It follows a case of gambling, drugs, and murder in 1930s Los Angeles and environs. Along the way there are dames, psychics, disreputable cops and doctors, and a double cross or two for good measure. Chandler is particularly good at description and Marlowe in his first person narration is the conduit for these descriptions. Marlowe becomes enmeshed in the action by simple coincidence, but is able to play just the right moves in order to crack the case. Chandler hints at Marlowe's alcoholism without dwelling on it and also shows him to have racist tendencies. In fact, some of the racism is shocking to a modern reader, but is somehow different than that of the Tarzan novel. Here, the racist remarks are in keeping with the character, as opposed to being a simple premise that the action is based upon.

As with much of the genre, the mystery itself is no great shakes, but Chandler's writing is evocative and I'll look forward to reading more.

Brighton Rock

Graham Greene is yet another prominent twentieth century novelist that I have been aware of but had not read. Brighton Rock is his 1938 novel about seaside thugs and their struggle for power over Brighton and its horse track.

Pinkie is a seventeen year old whose world stretches no further than the beachfront and horse track in Brighton. He has inherited control of a gang after its leader was killed. Despite his young age, Pinkie's ruthlessness and quick mind make him a natural for succession. The far wealthier Mr. Colleoni has his own ideas on who should handle the action in Brighton, and a struggle for control ensues. Against all this is Pinkie's relationship with Rose, a naive waitress who has information that might link Pinkie and his gang to a murder. Unfortunately for Rose, she has no idea what the information really means and is 'romanced' by Pinkie who has aims at marrying her simply so she cannot be forced to testify against him.

The real interest in this novel for me was the character of Pinkie, who must have been relatively unique for his time. Like Tom Ripley, here we have a central character who is pure evil. Pinkie's abhorrence of carnality and twisted puritanism make him an interesting example of 'Catholicism gone wrong'. He and Rose's actions grow out of a belief that once they have committed mortal sin, all is lost- so what's the point in redemption? This novel is really a meditation on Catholicism and the many ways its adherents can interpret what it all really stands for.

A good novel, but it never particularly engaged me as a story. More interesting was the subtext. Brighton Rock was also made into a film starring Richard Attenborough.

The Stranger

Camus' The Stranger is a classic of existential lit and has no doubt been read by just about everyone who has ever been an undergraduate at any university in the world.

For anyone who hasn't read it, The Stranger is a compact tale about a young French-Algerian, Meursault, who serves as narrator and the literary embodiment of existential philosophy (although Camus never considered himself to be an existentialist). At the outset of the novel, Meuersault's mother has died and he travels to the nursing home she lived in to see to her funeral. Afterward, he returns to his normal life, normal job, and normal pursuits. He strikes up a relationship with a young woman and befriends a shady man who invites him to the beach. During this trip, a seemingly random encounter with some Arab men leads to murder, and Meursault finds himself in jail awaiting trial.

The crux of the novel is Meursault's realization of the absurdity of life and his belief that the end is the end and nothing that happens really matters. His belief system and seeming lack of remorse or concern about his own fate paints him in an unflattering light before the members of the judicial system. Still, it is not the crime he has committed that condemns him in society's eyes; rather it is his ambivalence towards the death of his mother that society cannot understand or allow to go unpunished.

The version of The Stranger I read is not the classic English translation from Gilbert, but an American translation from Matthew Ward that appeared in 1988. Camus had written that he had intended The Stranger to be written in the 'American' style of James Cain or Dashiell Hammett with short compact sentences and an overtone of though guy swagger. Ward's translation attempts to capture this style, and for me, is successful.

The Stranger is a quick read for a rainy day. I'd also recommend The Plague by Camus.