Skilled and graceful from page to page, but the story, even so, dawdles badly and seems dragged out and terribly verbose by...
Plodding account of a young girl’s coming of age during the 1918 flu epidemic, in a third US appearance by New Zealander Johnson (Belief, 2002, etc.).
As the carnage of WWI was winding down, one of history’s great pandemics took more lives in a few months than the Allied and German armies had claimed over the previous four years. The Spanish Influenza spread to just about every corner of the globe—even the Fiji Islands, where 12-year-old Olive McNab lives with her large family. When Olive’s mother Adela, a once-famous actress, falls ill, Olive and her brothers leave their parents behind in Suva (the capital city) and travel with their grandmother to the remote island of Taveuni to stay at Uncle Bernard Gow’s sugar plantation. There, they pass their days in mild unease, waiting for word on the last days of the war, the epidemic, and their mother’s worsening condition. For a time, they enjoy the diversion of two eccentric (by their standards) houseguests: the free-spirited artist Agnes Perkins-Green and her lover, the famous naturalist and explorer Constance Prime-Belcher. Although Uncle Bernard’s sister Elvira was a devotee (and possibly lover) of the English poet Rupert Brooke, the Gow household is for the most part a dull and provincial place, where life revolves around meals and sports and the atmosphere is suffused with a sense of colonial superiority to the small army of native servants and laborers who stand on every side. The stagnant peace of this world is suddenly shattered when Olive’s Aunt Maud nearly foments an uprising among the natives by slashing the face of a serving-boy with a piece of broken glass. Her ensuing trial, Adela’s inevitable death, and the signing of the Armistice combine to impress upon the young Olive the fact that she has entered a new world, at once frightening and hopeful.
Skilled and graceful from page to page, but the story, even so, dawdles badly and seems dragged out and terribly verbose by the end.Pub Date: July 1, 2003
ISBN: 0-312-30693-8
Page Count: 272
Publisher: St. Martin's
Review Posted Online: May 19, 2010
Kirkus Reviews Issue: May 1, 2003
Tinny perhaps, but still a minutely rendered and impressively steady feminist vision of apocalypse.
The time is the not-so-distant future, when the US's spiraling social freedoms have finally called down a reaction, an Iranian-style repressive "monotheocracy" calling itself the Republic of Gilead—a Bible-thumping, racist, capital-punishing, and misogynistic rule that would do away with pleasure altogether were it not for one thing: that the Gileadan women, pure and true (as opposed to all the nonbelieving women, those who've ever been adulterous or married more than once), are found rarely fertile.
Thus are drafted a whole class of "handmaids," whose function is to bear the children of the elite, to be fecund or else (else being certain death, sent out to be toxic-waste removers on outlying islands). The narrative frame for Atwood's dystopian vision is the hopeless private testimony of one of these surrogate mothers, Offred ("of" plus the name of her male protector). Lying cradled by the body of the barren wife, being meanwhile serviced by the husband, Offred's "ceremony" must be successful—if she does not want to join the ranks of the other disappeared (which include her mother, her husband—dead—and small daughter, all taken away during the years of revolt). One Of her only human conduits is a gradually developing affair with her master's chauffeur—something that's balanced more than offset, though, by the master's hypocritically un-Puritan use of her as a kind of B-girl at private parties held by the ruling men in a spirit of nostalgia and lust. This latter relationship, edging into real need (the master's), is very effectively done; it highlights the handmaid's (read Everywoman's) eternal exploitation, profane or sacred ("We are two-legged wombs, that's all: sacred vessels, ambulatory chalices"). Atwood, to her credit, creates a chillingly specific, imaginable night-mare. The book is short on characterization—this is Atwood, never a warm writer, at her steeliest—and long on cynicism—it's got none of the human credibility of a work such as Walker Percy's Love In The Ruins. But the scariness is visceral, a world that's like a dangerous and even fatal grid, an electrified fence.
Tinny perhaps, but still a minutely rendered and impressively steady feminist vision of apocalypse.Pub Date: Feb. 17, 1985
ISBN: 038549081X
Page Count: -
Publisher: Houghton Mifflin
Review Posted Online: Sept. 16, 2011
Kirkus Reviews Issue: Jan. 15, 1985
SEEN & HEARD
BOOK TO SCREEN
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
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