Yesterday, the Friday Noon Movie Club (FNMC? MCFuN? MCFaN?) convened for a second time, to see Hugo. There were three women and six kids from our membership, shelling out the big bucks for a first-run movie in 3D. Yikes. I think I dropped the first month of college tuition for one of our kids. Worth it, though, to look so sly in those 3D glasses.
Hugo is a movie full of wonder. It offers up a visual feast between the city of Paris as well as the clockworks and hidden passages conjured up in the train station there. Plus a bookstore I long to live next door to, and a beautiful library. Hugo Cabret, a boy who is still mourning the loss of his father, is living alone in a forgotten apartment in the train station. His alcoholic uncle, the train station's timekeeper, had taken him in, taught him how to fix and run the clocks of the station, and then disappeared. Hugo, terrified of being sent to an orphanage, keeps the clocks going and survives on his own, while working on a secret project of his own.
As he lives his hidden life there, he encounters a bitter toyshop owner and his adventure-seeking goddaughter Isabelle, and at the same he tries to avoid being spotted by the Station Inspector, who is guaranteed to ship him off to an orphanage.
Hugo is played with wide-blue-eyed innocence by Asa Butterfield, and Chloe Grace Moretz's Isabelle is equally wonderful. But Ben Kingsley as the toyshop owner, Papa Georges, is stellar. Sacha Baron Cohen (yes, Borat) is the Station Inspector, and he lends some comedy to the act, which unfortunately included a couple of moments of bawdy humor that just left me wondering, why? Beyond that, though, the Station Inspector becomes a fuller character than is presented in the book, and you can't help but like him.
This movie is made for movie lovers. For young viewers, it represents a look at the earliest years of films, opening their eyes to a medium that is nothing like any of the different screen options they experience now, unless perhaps they are filming their own stories in the backyard. There are a couple of references to the very first film ever shown, The Arrival of a Train at La Ciotat, which is, just as you might suspect, a train pulling into a station. While that first film scared many viewers who feared that the train would hit them, the 3D Hugo gives viewers a modern version of that experience. I don't see many 3D films, and when I do I tend to feel that the 3D aspect just distracts me from the movie, leaving me a bit disoriented. But the 3D effects in Hugo only add to the movie, bringing the lovely world to life more fully.
And then there are the themes of the movie, which come straight from the book, and which could leave me gushing for quite a while. I'll try to contain myself. But first for the other side of Hugo, the book.
Some of the younger viewers said they liked the movie, but, as is often the case, they liked the book better. I was halfway through the book (ridiculous, since it is such a fast read), and I really loved having half the book in my head while I watched, then having the movie in my head while I read the second half. While this reading method takes some of the mystery out of the book, it gives me more fully developed characters all the way around.
The book is called The Invention of Hugo Cabret, and it is an illustrated novel by Brian Selznick, an award-winning illustrator. His love of words, movies, art and the imagination come through loud and clear. The black and white drawings take up page after full page, and they are lovely. The book is full of closed up hearts and secrets that need to be unlocked, and broken hearts and bodies that need healing. Indeed, Hugo's whole life is hidden, locked away, which is brought out perfectly in the film as Hugo is constantly peering out, unseen, from behind clocks.
I guess I've gotten to the theme part now. Healing, restoration and purpose are all addressed in both versions of the story. These lines from the book make their way into the movie as well: "Machines never have any extra parts. They have the exact number an type of parts they need. So I figure that if the entire world is one big machine, I have to be here for some reason." And, "that's why a broken machine always makes me a little sad, because it isn't able to do what it was meant to do." Lovely. Carry on, reformers, transforming and renewing.
Don't go see Hugo to see an action-packed adventure flick. Go see it as a warm, loving and beautiful work of storytelling art. But by all means, go see it. And read it, too.
Saturday, November 26, 2011
Monday, November 21, 2011
Star "Crossed" Lovers
After a couple of years of waiting for installments of the Hunger Games trilogy, I found myself devoid of dystopian young adult romance novels. Then I found Matched by Ally Condie at the Literary Life Bookstore, and I was back in business. Yes, it's derivative--a young woman finds herself torn between her best friend and her soulmate, neither of whom happen to be a vampire or a werewolf, and both of whom love her. Also, it takes place in a futuristic society that used to be North America, where the government watches every move of its citizens.Still. I enjoyed some of the more original parts of the book, and I appreciated some of the imagery, as well as writing that pushed beyond the ordinary. So I've been looking forward to finding out what happens to Cassia, Ky and Xander in the second of the trilogy, Crossed.
At the end of Matched, Cassia has decided to go after Ky. Ky is not a full citizen of the Society, and he does not enjoy the same rights and priveleges that Cassia does. Some of the themes that run through this book include the control and oppression of people, inequality of rights based on arbitrary reasons, abuse of power, and most central to this book, the nature of love, honesty and commitment. Ky and Cassia are together; now they must decide how honest they can be with each other, how much they trust each other, and how they will deal with their differences. I appreciated the deeper-than-usual look at how infatuation matures into a different kind of connection, more than is usually found in a young adult novel.
Much of the book takes place in the Carving. I assumed, as I began reading, that this was the Grand Canyon, but since finding that the author is from Utah, I'm thinking something more like Canyonlands. The book is half love letter to the beauty of the landscape, which I enjoyed.
There is also a bit of reflection on grief over the loss of loved ones, including the confusing mix of pain, anger and guilt. Ky has lost a lot in his lifetime, and he's not always clear on how he should feel about it all.
The story felt both a little drawn out, and somehow at the same time like there were things we were supposed to understand that I didn't feel were explained quite enough--the characters are often coming to understandings of each other that I'm not clear on. I'm curious if this was originally one longer novel, and the publisher said "let's make it a trilogy." On the other hand, the ending seemed perfectly planned out as the end to the second of a three-book series.
It's not The Hunger Games, but I'm enjoying it and looking forward to seeing what happens in the final installment, whenever that comes out! And if you need more, a friend suggested Divergent, by Veronica Roth. I might have to give it a try.
Friday, November 18, 2011
Diagnosis: A Little Cold
Today was the inaugural Friday Noon Movie Club event. You hadn't heard? Well. For the immediate future, I plan to attend a movie every Friday afternoon, around noon, in an attempt to keep up with what's in the theater for vocational purposes. Anyone available and interested can let me know, and I'll put you on the email list. Each week I will send an email on Wed or Thur giving the time, location and title of the movie I'll be attending that week, and I'd be happy to have joiners! Today there were four of us, and we are all a little more icked out by germs than before. Icked out being a technical term, of course.
We went to see Contagion. Originally we intended to see Margin Call, but after they posted the movie times, they changed them again, and there was no early showing of that one. The theater assures me that this is a very rare occurence. So we switched to Contagion. It is about, you guessed it, contagion. A more deadly H1N1-style virus is multiplying rapidly, taking lives around the globe. This movie hypothesizes what that would look like, what politics would emerge between the CDC, Homeland Security, different coutnries, drug companies and the media.
There are things to appreciate about this movie, namely the cast. It includes, but is not remotely limited to, Kate Winslet, Matt Damon, Gwyneth Paltrow, Jude Law, Laurence Fishburne, Marion Cotillard, and two of my dark horse favorites, Jennifer Ehle John Hawkes. A lot of good performances by great actors. Not a lot of great performances.
The storyline mostly seemed believable, but somehow, in portraying a pandemic, it lacked drama. We didn't really get to see inside the heads of the people trying to get it under control, so it was hard to care too much. I wonder if director Steven Soderbergh was trying to avoid sentimental manipulation and went too far the other way instead. There was one scene that you will want to be warned about, which gave us an uber-CSI autopsy moment that I, personally, could have happily lived the rest of my life without seeing.
An interesting thread at the beginning was a shout-out to journalists--the ill health of print media means it is hard to pay for journalists to look deeper into what government agencies are doing, leaving the public in the hands of conspiracy theorists, charlatans and, worst of all, bloggers.
Mitch (Matt Damon) and his daughter are the only characters I really cared about at all, with the possible exception of Dr. Mears (Kate Winslet). Mitch's wife, Beth, is the first victim, and in an almost judgment-by-plague kind of way, she is coming down with it as she speaks on the phone to the man with whom she is having an affair.
There were also a couple of things that got in the way of taking the movie seriously. Some scenes with the killer combo of bad dialogue and acting, hazmat suits that made the wearers look almost exactly like Oompa-Loompas from Willy Wonka, and a Homeland Security official played by Bryan Cranston. He played the dad in "Malcolm in the Middle," and no matter how hard I try to take him seriously, I just want to laugh when I watch him.
Soderbergh also directed the film Traffic, which told the story of drugs, from growers to dealers to politicians to law enforcement to users of all kinds. This is like a spinoff of Law and Order; call it Traffic: Flu Unit. The movie tries to follow the trail, but there are too many characters to care about. If we had enough face time with each of them, we would be sitting there for 3 hours, and, truly, 106 minutes was enough.
But you'll never look at doorknobs, or the poles you hold onto in subways, or even people who cough in the same way again.
Next week's Friday Noon Movie Club will not be meeting in the cheap seats. I intend to take my kids to see Hugo, the movie adaptation of The Invention of Hugo Cabret. Everything I've seen about it points to a wonderful film (possibly a bit scary for the youngest viewers). It was shot in 3D, and it's getting rave reviews for that aspect of it, so I might even fork over the big bucks. We are generally a 2D family. But what the heck, it's a holiday weekend. So let me know if you are interested, either for this coming week or for the short-term future, in receiving notice of when and where the movies will be. I'll attempt to pick movies I really want to see, but it will have to fit the time frame, and I'll choose the cheap theater most of the time. Maybe I'll see you there!
We went to see Contagion. Originally we intended to see Margin Call, but after they posted the movie times, they changed them again, and there was no early showing of that one. The theater assures me that this is a very rare occurence. So we switched to Contagion. It is about, you guessed it, contagion. A more deadly H1N1-style virus is multiplying rapidly, taking lives around the globe. This movie hypothesizes what that would look like, what politics would emerge between the CDC, Homeland Security, different coutnries, drug companies and the media.
There are things to appreciate about this movie, namely the cast. It includes, but is not remotely limited to, Kate Winslet, Matt Damon, Gwyneth Paltrow, Jude Law, Laurence Fishburne, Marion Cotillard, and two of my dark horse favorites, Jennifer Ehle John Hawkes. A lot of good performances by great actors. Not a lot of great performances.
The storyline mostly seemed believable, but somehow, in portraying a pandemic, it lacked drama. We didn't really get to see inside the heads of the people trying to get it under control, so it was hard to care too much. I wonder if director Steven Soderbergh was trying to avoid sentimental manipulation and went too far the other way instead. There was one scene that you will want to be warned about, which gave us an uber-CSI autopsy moment that I, personally, could have happily lived the rest of my life without seeing.
An interesting thread at the beginning was a shout-out to journalists--the ill health of print media means it is hard to pay for journalists to look deeper into what government agencies are doing, leaving the public in the hands of conspiracy theorists, charlatans and, worst of all, bloggers.
Mitch (Matt Damon) and his daughter are the only characters I really cared about at all, with the possible exception of Dr. Mears (Kate Winslet). Mitch's wife, Beth, is the first victim, and in an almost judgment-by-plague kind of way, she is coming down with it as she speaks on the phone to the man with whom she is having an affair.
There were also a couple of things that got in the way of taking the movie seriously. Some scenes with the killer combo of bad dialogue and acting, hazmat suits that made the wearers look almost exactly like Oompa-Loompas from Willy Wonka, and a Homeland Security official played by Bryan Cranston. He played the dad in "Malcolm in the Middle," and no matter how hard I try to take him seriously, I just want to laugh when I watch him.
Soderbergh also directed the film Traffic, which told the story of drugs, from growers to dealers to politicians to law enforcement to users of all kinds. This is like a spinoff of Law and Order; call it Traffic: Flu Unit. The movie tries to follow the trail, but there are too many characters to care about. If we had enough face time with each of them, we would be sitting there for 3 hours, and, truly, 106 minutes was enough.
But you'll never look at doorknobs, or the poles you hold onto in subways, or even people who cough in the same way again.
Next week's Friday Noon Movie Club will not be meeting in the cheap seats. I intend to take my kids to see Hugo, the movie adaptation of The Invention of Hugo Cabret. Everything I've seen about it points to a wonderful film (possibly a bit scary for the youngest viewers). It was shot in 3D, and it's getting rave reviews for that aspect of it, so I might even fork over the big bucks. We are generally a 2D family. But what the heck, it's a holiday weekend. So let me know if you are interested, either for this coming week or for the short-term future, in receiving notice of when and where the movies will be. I'll attempt to pick movies I really want to see, but it will have to fit the time frame, and I'll choose the cheap theater most of the time. Maybe I'll see you there!
Thursday, November 17, 2011
Book Club Classic: Anna Karenina
Last summer, the Neland Women's Book Club sat in a circle and caressed books lovingly, holding them up so we could all see the covers and doing our best to sell everyone else on the books we wanted to read. With 12 slots to fill, one a month, it's hard to make the choices. Roze wanted to read Leo Tolstoy's Anna Karenina. She sold us on it, in spite of the fear and trembling that the combination of the words "Russian novel" and "870 pages" inspired.
Tonight she took the reins as leader, and what a fine job she did. It's a gamble to choose a long, older book, as there is always the fear that maybe only three people will show up. Tonight we had a baker's dozen, and we had a wonderful discussion. We also got prizes. Roze quizzed us with a gift bag full of items--we were supposed to identify what each item had to do with the novel. The tiny bottle of vodka was the most remarked-upon item. And she had a gift bag for all of us, so look out, world.
This in spite of the fact that many of us could not answer the questions. A couple of us had not had time to read the book but only watched the movie or scanned the Cliff's Notes. Which is exactly where I would have been myself if I hadn't read it in an unexplained fit of classics reading 8 years ago. And frankly, I remembered very little. So this discussion both reminded me of what I read back then and opened up the story in new ways.
The book is made up of contrasts. City vs. country. Nobility vs. peasant. Social codes vs. true morality. Male vs. female. Is it any wonder that he wrote a book called War and Peace? And the characters come through clearly because they contrast against each other.
We spent a bit of time wondering why this novel is entitled Anna Karenina, when Levin seems to be the more important character. A couple of theories came up: perhaps the fact that the book was published serially in a magazine over the course of a couple of years meant that the story started out with Anna, but later Levin came to be more important. Or perhaps Anna is the symbol of the old order--nobility that is going down, while the peasants and the hardworking landowners are on the rise.
Many expressed their frustration with Anna and the other characters, tired of reading through their every self-absorbed thoughts. And how could Anna have left her beloved son for this new lover? One of our new friends, Ying He, had a more compassionate point of view of Anna, saying that Anna's tragedy was meeting Vronsky. If she hadn't, she might have found happiness in spending time with her son and in the benefits of her social world, even though her older husband was not ideal. When she met Vronsky, it was like feeling the warmth of a nearby fire, and she wanted more of the heat. In the end she destroyed herself getting to close to the fire. This is, after all, the very nature of temptation--being drawn in by something that enlivens, quickens and warms you, only to find that if you pursue it, you pursue self-destruction. She also mentioned that the choices in real life are not clear-cut; you don't just choose A or B, because there are complex consequences to either choice. In this novel, Tolstoy recognizes and reflects the complexity of those life choices.
Helen mentioned [spoiler alert] that she knew going in that Anna was going to throw herself in front of a train, and at a certain point she was so tired of Anna that she couldn't wait for it to happen. Then she read somewhere that the thought processes as Anna contemplates her demise are some of the most beautifully written in literature. Huh.
We, on the other hand, found some beautiful writing at the moment of Levin's conversion. "He had lived (without being aware of it) on those spiritual truths that he had sucked in with his mother's milk, but he had thought, not merely without recognition of these truths, but studiously ignoring them. Now it was clear to him that he could only live by virtue of the beliefs in which he had been brought up." Hope for the parent of children who are wandering. Then later, "'Can this be faith?' he thought, afraid to believe in his happiness. 'My God, I thank Thee!' he said, gulping down his sobs, and with both hands brushing away the tears that filled his eyes." Here is where I must admit that I remember nothing of this lovely scene from my long-ago reading. I think at that point I had been working so hard to finish the book that I was reading without comprehending!
Russia was moving into a new paradigm--the serfs had been freed, and the old order was threatened. Tolstoy had made some contributions to social reform for the peasants, and this novel has a romanticized view of peasant life. Levin lives on his land, works in the field with the peasants and enjoys their festivities. The problems of the poor little rich girls seem much more complex than the lives of the people living on the land, perhaps because Tolstoy knew more of those problems. Certainly the people working the land had their own challenges, but we are not so privy to them.
Thelma's husband listened to the entire book on CD with her on a road trip. He said that Anna just needed a job. She, herself, thinks that Tolstoy needed an editor; this story could have been told with much less detail. Meanwhile, Marti suggests that if we met Anna now, we'd just recommend a good therapist to deal with her fragility and anxieties.
Sue recommends highly the PBS Masterpiece Theater version of the book. I'm looking forward to it.
Tonight she took the reins as leader, and what a fine job she did. It's a gamble to choose a long, older book, as there is always the fear that maybe only three people will show up. Tonight we had a baker's dozen, and we had a wonderful discussion. We also got prizes. Roze quizzed us with a gift bag full of items--we were supposed to identify what each item had to do with the novel. The tiny bottle of vodka was the most remarked-upon item. And she had a gift bag for all of us, so look out, world.
This in spite of the fact that many of us could not answer the questions. A couple of us had not had time to read the book but only watched the movie or scanned the Cliff's Notes. Which is exactly where I would have been myself if I hadn't read it in an unexplained fit of classics reading 8 years ago. And frankly, I remembered very little. So this discussion both reminded me of what I read back then and opened up the story in new ways.
The book is made up of contrasts. City vs. country. Nobility vs. peasant. Social codes vs. true morality. Male vs. female. Is it any wonder that he wrote a book called War and Peace? And the characters come through clearly because they contrast against each other.
We spent a bit of time wondering why this novel is entitled Anna Karenina, when Levin seems to be the more important character. A couple of theories came up: perhaps the fact that the book was published serially in a magazine over the course of a couple of years meant that the story started out with Anna, but later Levin came to be more important. Or perhaps Anna is the symbol of the old order--nobility that is going down, while the peasants and the hardworking landowners are on the rise.
Many expressed their frustration with Anna and the other characters, tired of reading through their every self-absorbed thoughts. And how could Anna have left her beloved son for this new lover? One of our new friends, Ying He, had a more compassionate point of view of Anna, saying that Anna's tragedy was meeting Vronsky. If she hadn't, she might have found happiness in spending time with her son and in the benefits of her social world, even though her older husband was not ideal. When she met Vronsky, it was like feeling the warmth of a nearby fire, and she wanted more of the heat. In the end she destroyed herself getting to close to the fire. This is, after all, the very nature of temptation--being drawn in by something that enlivens, quickens and warms you, only to find that if you pursue it, you pursue self-destruction. She also mentioned that the choices in real life are not clear-cut; you don't just choose A or B, because there are complex consequences to either choice. In this novel, Tolstoy recognizes and reflects the complexity of those life choices.
Helen mentioned [spoiler alert] that she knew going in that Anna was going to throw herself in front of a train, and at a certain point she was so tired of Anna that she couldn't wait for it to happen. Then she read somewhere that the thought processes as Anna contemplates her demise are some of the most beautifully written in literature. Huh.
We, on the other hand, found some beautiful writing at the moment of Levin's conversion. "He had lived (without being aware of it) on those spiritual truths that he had sucked in with his mother's milk, but he had thought, not merely without recognition of these truths, but studiously ignoring them. Now it was clear to him that he could only live by virtue of the beliefs in which he had been brought up." Hope for the parent of children who are wandering. Then later, "'Can this be faith?' he thought, afraid to believe in his happiness. 'My God, I thank Thee!' he said, gulping down his sobs, and with both hands brushing away the tears that filled his eyes." Here is where I must admit that I remember nothing of this lovely scene from my long-ago reading. I think at that point I had been working so hard to finish the book that I was reading without comprehending!
Russia was moving into a new paradigm--the serfs had been freed, and the old order was threatened. Tolstoy had made some contributions to social reform for the peasants, and this novel has a romanticized view of peasant life. Levin lives on his land, works in the field with the peasants and enjoys their festivities. The problems of the poor little rich girls seem much more complex than the lives of the people living on the land, perhaps because Tolstoy knew more of those problems. Certainly the people working the land had their own challenges, but we are not so privy to them.
Thelma's husband listened to the entire book on CD with her on a road trip. He said that Anna just needed a job. She, herself, thinks that Tolstoy needed an editor; this story could have been told with much less detail. Meanwhile, Marti suggests that if we met Anna now, we'd just recommend a good therapist to deal with her fragility and anxieties.
Sue recommends highly the PBS Masterpiece Theater version of the book. I'm looking forward to it.
Tuesday, November 15, 2011
What's in a Desk?
In the spirit of fall clean-up, the Fab 5 took on a big project: the book Great House by Nicole Krauss. This is no small effort--it takes up a big piece of real estate on the bookshelf, and it is not a quick and easy read. Add to that another hurdle. This is one depressing book. We met at Barbara's house, and she was afraid that if she finished it over the weekend, we would be walking in to find her still in her bathrobe with greasy hair, given up on life thanks to the novel.
So far I'm not really selling this book, and book club doesn't sound like so much fun.
We kicked off the evening with a travelogue by yours truly, where I showed them several hundred photos of my family eating pasta and gelato. If you want to know more about our month away, you too can get my travelog (don't worry, no several hundred photos there) on the blog we kept for our families: quistworldtour.blogspot.com.
But I digress. The travelogue helped us procrastinate beginning our discussion, which I sensed several of us were sort of dreading. In the end, though, this book offered a lot to talk about, even if none of us really liked it. It's a strange thing to know that you can appreciate a book that you don't like. But there it is.
The book is very cerebral. While the characters are fully developed, everything that happens in the book, for the most part, seems to happen in their heads, and it takes some hard work to wrap your hands and mind around something concrete. Every character has constructed an idea of themselves and their lives, and they bend their lives around that construction.
One man has an idea of who his wife is and what there relationship is, and every move he makes is shaped by what he thinks she wants and needs. A woman spends a good portion of her life writing at an odd, imposing desk, building a career for which she gives up everything else. When she feels she must give the desk to someone else, she feels that her writing is over. A father's life and marriage are rearranged to try to fit around the constructions of who he thinks his children are. A pair of siblings live their lives around their concept of their father, a man whose own life is built around the memory of his father. Everyone has experienced loss, and everyone is trying to figure out how what they remember fits with who they are and who those important people in their lives really were.
The desk that the writer gives up shows up in different times and places in most of the stories. It is an enormous, imposing desk with lots of oddly-shaped drawers, and it has one drawer that is locked. As far as we can tell, the desk has had a strange, foreboding sort of effect on everyone who has come across it, and they have all wondered about the locked drawer. At the end of the story (spoiler alert!), we find out that the drawer was empty when it was locked. Many have wondered about it, speculated about the secret and possibly valuable contents, but no one has tried to open it. And there is nothing inside.
This emptiness echoes through the lives of the characters--all believe there is a very important secret that they could discover if they tried, but for the most part they don't even try. And if they do, they find more emptiness.
Your can see how this is not such an uplifting book. The thing of it is, as I read, I could see that this is the work of a master writer. It is beautifully written, lovely language. But so painfully sad. I have read The History of Love by the same author, and though this book seems to get the most lavish praise, I would recommend that one instead of Great House.
We ended up our evening with some karaoke-style singing from Nancy, minus the karaoke machine. She graced us with some enthusiastic renditions of ELO songs, which will forever change my perception of that particular band....She has some Strange Magic.
I did skip writing about the last book we read, Property by Valerie Martin. This was a novel about a rather enigmatic main character, the wife of a plantation owner. She was trapped in her marriage, but the slaves that served the couple were trapped in even more severe ways. Again, this is not the most uplifting book, and the characters were not very likeable. Sonya had recently read Someone Knows My Name by Lawrence Hill, which also dealt with slavery. She highly recommends it over Property. If you want to read something by Valerie Martin, I recommend Mary Reilly, her take on Dr. Jeckyll and Mr. Hyde. It's sort of a creepy, romantic, gothic novel that is much better than the little-known Julia Roberts movie made from it.
Next up for the Fab 5: Dandelion Wine by Ray Bradbury. Soaking up a little summer sun in the early winter!
So far I'm not really selling this book, and book club doesn't sound like so much fun.
We kicked off the evening with a travelogue by yours truly, where I showed them several hundred photos of my family eating pasta and gelato. If you want to know more about our month away, you too can get my travelog (don't worry, no several hundred photos there) on the blog we kept for our families: quistworldtour.blogspot.com.
But I digress. The travelogue helped us procrastinate beginning our discussion, which I sensed several of us were sort of dreading. In the end, though, this book offered a lot to talk about, even if none of us really liked it. It's a strange thing to know that you can appreciate a book that you don't like. But there it is.
The book is very cerebral. While the characters are fully developed, everything that happens in the book, for the most part, seems to happen in their heads, and it takes some hard work to wrap your hands and mind around something concrete. Every character has constructed an idea of themselves and their lives, and they bend their lives around that construction.
One man has an idea of who his wife is and what there relationship is, and every move he makes is shaped by what he thinks she wants and needs. A woman spends a good portion of her life writing at an odd, imposing desk, building a career for which she gives up everything else. When she feels she must give the desk to someone else, she feels that her writing is over. A father's life and marriage are rearranged to try to fit around the constructions of who he thinks his children are. A pair of siblings live their lives around their concept of their father, a man whose own life is built around the memory of his father. Everyone has experienced loss, and everyone is trying to figure out how what they remember fits with who they are and who those important people in their lives really were.
The desk that the writer gives up shows up in different times and places in most of the stories. It is an enormous, imposing desk with lots of oddly-shaped drawers, and it has one drawer that is locked. As far as we can tell, the desk has had a strange, foreboding sort of effect on everyone who has come across it, and they have all wondered about the locked drawer. At the end of the story (spoiler alert!), we find out that the drawer was empty when it was locked. Many have wondered about it, speculated about the secret and possibly valuable contents, but no one has tried to open it. And there is nothing inside.
This emptiness echoes through the lives of the characters--all believe there is a very important secret that they could discover if they tried, but for the most part they don't even try. And if they do, they find more emptiness.
Your can see how this is not such an uplifting book. The thing of it is, as I read, I could see that this is the work of a master writer. It is beautifully written, lovely language. But so painfully sad. I have read The History of Love by the same author, and though this book seems to get the most lavish praise, I would recommend that one instead of Great House.
We ended up our evening with some karaoke-style singing from Nancy, minus the karaoke machine. She graced us with some enthusiastic renditions of ELO songs, which will forever change my perception of that particular band....She has some Strange Magic.
I did skip writing about the last book we read, Property by Valerie Martin. This was a novel about a rather enigmatic main character, the wife of a plantation owner. She was trapped in her marriage, but the slaves that served the couple were trapped in even more severe ways. Again, this is not the most uplifting book, and the characters were not very likeable. Sonya had recently read Someone Knows My Name by Lawrence Hill, which also dealt with slavery. She highly recommends it over Property. If you want to read something by Valerie Martin, I recommend Mary Reilly, her take on Dr. Jeckyll and Mr. Hyde. It's sort of a creepy, romantic, gothic novel that is much better than the little-known Julia Roberts movie made from it.
Next up for the Fab 5: Dandelion Wine by Ray Bradbury. Soaking up a little summer sun in the early winter!
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