Fans of Echenoz will recognize his signature playfulness and affection for the offbeat caper—in this case, one that won’t...
A shaggy tale that blends spy-novel pastiche with today’s headlines.
A certain Arkansas-bred Hollywood player ought to be sending a thank-you note to Echenoz (I’m Gone, 2014, etc.) right about now; the French novelist mentions him a couple of times in connection with his antiheroic hero Paul Objat, whose half-grin is “a little bit like the actor Billy Bob Thornton’s smile.” Besides having that going for him, Objat is pretty good at kung fu, fighting off ninjas with aplomb, and “overpowering the black overalls while ignoring their raucous insults.” We meet Objat in the presence of a French general who wouldn’t be out of place in Day of the Jackal—on the side of the bad guys, probably—and who has hatched a cherchez la femme plot that quickly spirals out of control: “I want a woman,” he declares. Objat obliges by stealing one for him. The woman he delivers is nubile, tactile, and even ductile (“I don’t know that adjective,” Objat protests). It turns out that she is also resourceful and smarter than her captors, which comes in handy when the novel changes settings from Paris and then the rural Massif Central and wanders over to Pyongyang, North Korea, and a wacky plot to hustle one of the Kim regime’s generals across the border and into the happy world of capitalism. Nothing quite works the way it’s supposed to; think Casino Royale by way of Diva and maybe with a little Georges Perec thrown in as leavening. Amid the globe-hopping and bed-hopping, Echenoz serves up a nice postmodern sendup of world events, and though he seems a little too pleased at his cleverness and constant fourth-wall-breaking (“It’s been a long time since we saw General Bourgeaud, hasn’t it?”), the yarn is a pleasing enough confection, if a little soufflélike.
Fans of Echenoz will recognize his signature playfulness and affection for the offbeat caper—in this case, one that won’t please the brass in Pyongyang.Pub Date: Nov. 7, 2017
ISBN: 978-1-62097-312-7
Page Count: 256
Publisher: The New Press
Review Posted Online: Aug. 21, 2017
Kirkus Reviews Issue: Sept. 1, 2017
This book sings with the terrible silence of dead civilizations in which once there was valor.
Written with quiet dignity that builds to a climax of tragic force, this book about the dissolution of an African tribe, its traditions, and values, represents a welcome departure from the familiar "Me, white brother" genre.
Written by a Nigerian African trained in missionary schools, this novel tells quietly the story of a brave man, Okonkwo, whose life has absolute validity in terms of his culture, and who exercises his prerogative as a warrior, father, and husband with unflinching single mindedness. But into the complex Nigerian village filters the teachings of strangers, teachings so alien to the tribe, that resistance is impossible. One must distinguish a force to be able to oppose it, and to most, the talk of Christian salvation is no more than the babbling of incoherent children. Still, with his guns and persistence, the white man, amoeba-like, gradually absorbs the native culture and in despair, Okonkwo, unable to withstand the corrosion of what he, alone, understands to be the life force of his people, hangs himself. In the formlessness of the dying culture, it is the missionary who takes note of the event, reminding himself to give Okonkwo's gesture a line or two in his work, The Pacification of the Primitive Tribes of the Lower Niger.
This book sings with the terrible silence of dead civilizations in which once there was valor.Pub Date: Jan. 23, 1958
ISBN: 0385474547
Page Count: 207
Publisher: McDowell, Obolensky
Review Posted Online: April 23, 2013
Kirkus Reviews Issue: Jan. 1, 1958
BOOK REVIEW
BOOK REVIEW
BOOK REVIEW
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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