Review of After You'd Gone By Maggie O'Farrell

This will probably not come as a surprise, but I just read another book about grief. The book jacket promised family secrets and intrigue, and yes, those things are part of the story. But boiled down, this is yet another book in my string of books about sad sad sad sad.

That said, I enjoyed this book quite a bit (assuming “enjoy” is the right word for sad sad sad). Maggie O’Farrell is one of my favorite contemporary authors. I particularly love two of her books -- The Vanishing Act of Esme Lennox and The Hand That First Held Mine.  I think that O’Farrell is notable for her spider web writing. The reader is held at a distance at first but is quickly pulled tighter and tighter into the center of the drama.

After You’d Gone was O’Farrell’s debut novel, published in 2002. The story focuses on Alice, who begins the book by getting hit by a car and falling into a coma. The reader knows that something bad has happened in her life, that she has witnessed something difficult. The narrative jumps back and forth in time, allowing the reader to learn about her family and her marriage and the events leading up to the accident. In addition to being a book about grief, this is also book about loyalty and deception. For whom would you sacrifice yourself? Does the truth set you free?

It took me a while to ease into this story, mostly because the time and narrative voice switch often – in the same chapters and without warning. I struggled in the beginning to figure out who was speaking, and the organization felt a bit clunky.  In those ways, the book definitely seemed like a debut. But as much as I didn’t want to be reading about grief, I think that O’Farrell nailed it. I felt every aching minute. The tangible quality of one character’s pain gave me a good glimpse of what a fantastic writer O’Farrell would soon become.

When you find an author that you enjoy, do you tend to go back and read his or her entire catalog? Do you find that satisfying? I think that I would have liked this book even more if I had read it before I had read all of her others. Here’s an old column from the New York Times Book Review about backlists in the book business.

And you can find an interview with O’Farrell here and here.

After You’d Gone is on my 2015 TBR Pile Challenge list.  I’m making slow and unsteady progress toward my goal of finishing (and freeing!) 12 books that have been sitting on my leaning stack for too long. Of course, if I succeed at my challenge, I have a sneaking suspicion that I’m going to reward myself by putting new books on the stack. 

Review of Charming Billy by Alice McDermott

I have had Charming Billy by Alice McDermott in my stack forever, so I decided it would be a great addition to my 2015 TBR PILE Challenge. One note about my 2015 TBR PILE Challenge: I am very behind.  I have only read four of the twelve books I promised to read, and it’s already July. I’m thinking that I might have to write a future post on Bookish Procrastination – though it’s likely that I’ll never get around to it.

Here's the TBR pile I promised to read

Little did I know when I picked up Charming Billy that I would be reading yet another book about grieving. Other books I have read recently that consider this theme are A Man Called Ove by Fredrick Backman, The Obituary Writer by Ann Hood, and Nora Webster by Colm Tóibín.

Charming Billy is more than just a story about grief, however. It’s also a story about faith. And I’d argue that it’s more specifically about how faith works as part of Irish-American cultural identity. The book’s plot– if you want to call it that – involves a gathering of friends and family at Billy Lynch’s funeral. As they mourn together, they grapple with whether Billy died of alcoholism or of the effects of a broken heart. The reader learns about both conditions – his drinking and his loss – as the narrative jumps around in time.

At the center of Billy’s life is a romantic loss. When he finds out that the love of his life has died back in Ireland, he is devastated, and that devastation goes on to influence all of the decisions he makes. But it turns out that perhaps Billy does not know the whole truth about his love’s death – in fact, he has been told a story about her that is not real. McDermott is asking whether comforting stories help or harm. And with that, she is asking questions about the function of religion as an organizing feature of this particular community’s world.

This book won the National Book Award in 1998, and it has many of the features of a lot of award-winning contemporary literature. The writing is gorgeous and subtle, and the ideas it plays with are big and profound. I’m glad I finally read it. But I will stress that this the kind of book to read when you’re feeling cozy and contemplative. It is not a page-turner, and I was surprised how long it took me to get through this slim volume. 

This is definitely a good novel to check out if you’re interested in Irish American ethnic culture or identity. The characters’ traditions, the way they care for one another and offend one another, the way they celebrate and self-destruct, and the way they communicate seem particular rather than universal. It would be interesting to pair this with a novel about another American cultural group and do some literary comparison (hint: book club idea!).

You can find a good interview with Alice McDermott here.

Review of The Obituary Writer by Ann Hood (And Thoughts About Lady Books)

After I graduated from college, I worked at a large chain bookstore for a short time. I learned many things about bookselling, including The Customer Is Likely Crazy and Strollers Are Used For Stealing. One thing I learned that offended my bookish sensibilities is that when mass market paperbacks (the little ones) don’t sell, many bookstores rip off the the covers and return them for a refund. The books themselves go into the trash.

(As a side note, this process is called Book Stripping. I wondered if the employees with this responsibility were called Strippers.)

Since this chain bookstore was huge, there was a dumpster full of books going into the garbage weekly. Sometimes I would fish out some of the more appealing ones for myself, which was technically theft.  Something Blue, Ann Hood’s fourth novel, was one of the books I dug out of….er…stole from the trash.

I just recently sat down with another Hood novel, this one acquired legally.  The Obituary Writer has been sitting in my leaning stack for years, and I decided to read it as part of the 2015 TBR Pile Challenge. I’m glad I did, because this was a quick and easy read at a time when I feel mired in enormous books that never seem to end.

This novel offers a close look at the grief experienced by two characters – Claire, a 1960s suburban housewife, and Vivien, whose true love vanished in the 1906 earthquake in San Francisco. Hood is masterful at writing about the texture of grief. Her characters show us different forms of grief: grief at the loss of a lover, the loss of a parent, the loss of a child, and the loss of the self. They also allow us to consider different questions: What role does hope play in survival? What is the difference between hoping and pining? If the truth is terrible, would you rather be ignorant?

One of the things I most appreciate about this novel is the historical detail (Mad Men fans, take notice!). Hood has decorated her novel so precisely that we see the pattern on Claire’s living room wallpaper and we taste Vivien’s salad. These details give a time-specific quality to some of the characters’ experiences of grief (e.g. spiritual death via suburban ennui; death from an influenza epidemic…). But Hood is also exploring the universal idea of grief, as a ritual and as a potential trap.

There were many good things about The Obituary Writer. I genuinely liked it. But it skates on the edge of a literary phenomenon that drives me crazy: it is being marketed as “Women’s Fiction” (I say that it “skates on the edge” because we DON’T get a glass of chardonnay and a pedicure when we buy it. Too bad??). Women’s Fiction is a commercial category, a box, and I think the box constrained Claire and Vivien. In this case, Hood took these wonderful, well-drawn characters and tried to place them into the plot of a Lifetime Movie of the Week (i.e. “something good” has to come of tragedy; loose ends must be tied up within two hours; the audience sheds “good tears,” preferably in a community of other women). Once the book was in the Lifetime Movie box, the publisher added goofy reading group questions. I’m surprised there weren’t roses and chocolate, too.

The Lifetime Movie strategy at play here involves the “mystery” of how Vivien and Claire are connected. This is a mystery that is solvable at the outset, especially by anyone who has watched a Lifetime Movie of the Week. Rather than being a natural and surprising plot element, this connection serves to wrap up the novel in a bow at the end (foreshadowed by the question, “What does Vivien have to teach Claire…?”). For me, the problem with the neat bow, the “lesson learned,” is that it presumes that female readers can’t handle the real messiness of living life.

It is interesting that male authors’ readers don’t seem to require the same coddling. Nora Webster by Colm Tóibín is another book about a woman’s grief and the impact it has on her family. Tóibín, like Hood, focuses on the small details of life after a loss. But the publisher doesn’t attach questions to the end of that novel. Readers aren't asked, “…[D]o you find that sharing stories helps people process emotion and come to terms with grief?”

Clearly, the correct answer to that question is “yes.” Hood herself might be best known for sharing the story of the death of her young daughter and her experiences with adoption. Her nonfiction writing is searing. You can find an essay she wrote about those events here.

 

*The photo of books coming out of the window is from the Hague's Meermanno Museum. 

Review of When the World Was Steady by Claire Messud

Claire Messud made literary waves a couple of years ago when she wrote a book that that had an unpleasant female main character. The question that emerged was whether readers think that female characters are supposed to be likable. Do women only get to be appealing, nice, kind, and attractive?

When an interviewer said that she wouldn’t want to be friends with Messud’s main character in The Woman Upstairs, Messud responded:

“For heaven’s sake, what kind of question is that? Would you want to be friends with Humbert Humbert? Would you want to be friends with Mickey Sabbath? Saleem Sinai? Hamlet? Krapp? Oedipus? Oscar Wao? Antigone? Raskolnikov? Any of the characters in The Corrections? Any of the characters in Infinite Jest? Any of the characters in anything Pynchon has ever written? Or Martin Amis? Or Orhan Pamuk? Or Alice Munro, for that matter? If you’re reading to find friends, you’re in deep trouble. We read to find life, in all its possibilities. The relevant question isn’t ‘Is this a potential friend for me?’ but ‘Is this character alive?’ ”

Later, she said to the New York Times Book Review Podcast, 

“I couldn’t help but feel that it was a gendered question. I don’t think we as readers expect to identify with or admire male protagonists, and I suddenly had a feeling that there was this expectation of a woman protagonist by a woman reader.”

While this exchange happened in 2013, the same issue could have been raised in 1994, the year that Messud’s first novel, When the World Was Steady, was published. In this book, two sisters, raised by a prickly single mother, seem different in every way. Virginia, the older sister, continues to live with her mother, working at an uninspiring job in London and searching for God. At an emotional breaking point, she decides to go with her mother on a rare vacation to Scotland’s Isle of Skye, a place that has familial significance.

Emmy, the younger of the two, moves from London to Australia in her twenties an never looks back. Now in her forties and divorced, she takes off to Bali in search of a new identity. She somewhat ironically finds herself enmeshed in the life of an odd group of Australians.

Each of these women – Virginia, Emmy, and their mother – is uniquely unpleasant. But somehow each is also deeply compelling and relatable. I didn’t want to be friends with them, but I did want to see what happened to them over the course of the novel.

As I was reading, I was struck by the utter separateness of the two sections. The story of each sister on each island (Can you holler, METAPHOR!) could exist as part of its own interesting novel about running away or finding one’s self. But there they were together, told in alternating chunks, as if the relationship between the women did not even exist. I had a conversation in my head about how weird this total separation was and felt a little bit critical until the very last chapter. And then – Wow! – it made sense. I was knocked over by the ending, which satisfied me in an unexpected way.

I don’t often go back and read authors’ backlists, especially first novels. But I picked this one up at a library sale for 75 cents after reading the author’s The Emperor’s Children years ago. This was one of my picks for the 2015 TBR Pile Challenge (if you’re keeping score, I’ve read 2 out of 12 so far). 

There is a lot of good stuff about Messud on the interwebs. Here’s an interesting article about her home life, and here’s one with her ideas about art and writing.

Review of Silver Sparrow by Tayari Jones

Silver Sparrow by Tayari Jones is a novel about sisters, but it has a twist: these sisters have a bigamist father who is married to both of their mothers -- and only one of the two sisters knows about these circumstances.  One sister, Dana, feels like she plays second fiddle to Chaurisse, who gets to live with their father and who remains oblivious to the bigamy. Chaurisse does know Dana, however, as a beautiful girl that she envies and would like to befriend.  The idea of there being a “chosen one” threads through the narrative, with each girl in turn feeling like the other one is “lucky.”

In many ways, this is a straightforward coming-of-age story that takes place in a very unconventional family. I could see this being a good choice for older teenagers as well as for adult readers who enjoy domestic fiction. But what is most interesting to me is that this very universal story (messed-up family) takes place in a setting that is decisively African-American. And by setting, I don’t mean just the place where the story is located (Atlanta). I’m talking about everything – the pictures on the walls, the hair products the characters use, the historical figures the characters reference, the music they play – all of it speaks of a deep and rich culture and heritage. The novel’s complexity comes from its ability to navigate universality and cultural-specificity at the same time.

I think that this is a story about women – with relationships between women forming the core of the novel. But I actually find that Silver Sparrow’s two male characters are the most compelling. The bigamist father is the centerpiece of the family dysfunction, but he is not exactly a villain. He is not especially attractive or likeable, but as a reader, I was rooting for some way for him to make it right. His brother, too, is fascinating. He is the character who makes the deception possible, but he is, in many ways, the hero.

I found this interesting interview with the author here.  And look at the interviewer – it's none other than Roxane Gay, who wrote 2014’s An Untamed State and Bad Feminist! Both of those books made all sorts of  last year's "Best of" lists. I also found this NPR interview with the author, where she talks about the importance of acknowledging young people.  Here’s a quote I love:

"I was kind of an invisible girl when I was young. I was more like Chaurisse in my novel. I never felt particularly special. I mean, I didn't have low self-esteem, but I never felt sparkly or that I had anything to say. And I went to Spelman College and I met the president of Spelman at the time, Johnetta Cole. And she had heard that I was a writer, and she once said to me, 'How's the writing?' and it was like someone had touched me with a magic wand. And then I started taking my writing more seriously…The most amazing person I had ever seen in real life said that I was a writer. So I became known for it, and people started asking me, 'What did I think about this or that thing? Would I be willing to write for the school paper?' It gave me value. I felt that I had something to contribute through writing. And I couldn't help but think, 'Wow, what would happen if someone went to teenage girls in high school and said: You know, you have more to worry about than who's going to take you to the prom. Because you have something to say that matters.’ "

2015 TBR Pile Challenge

I have decided to enter the TBR Pile Challenge, hosted by Roof Beam Reader. I mentioned in October that I have a sizable stack of un-read books that I really do want to read but never seem to tackle. So here is my formal declaration that I will read TWELVE of these books over the course of 2015.

I have chosen a set of twelve (as well as two alternates) that includes different genres that I enjoy: literary fiction, mystery/thriller, nonfiction, and YA.  Here’s the list: 

 

1) The Warmth of Other Suns: The Epic Story of America’s Great Migration by Isabel Wilkerson (nonfiction). I got this for Christmas several years ago. I was reminded about how much I want to read this book during the discussion about good titles in Nonfiction November.

2) Silver Sparrow by Tayari Jones (literary fiction). This was a gift at my book club’s holiday book exchange a few years ago. Someone else received it and asked me to pass it along to another member. I never did. Oops. I read this author’s Leaving Atlanta and enjoyed it. (Completed 1/9/15. Review here)

3) The Worst Hard Time: The Untold Story of Those Who Survived the Great American Dust Bowl by Timothy Egan (nonfiction). I gave this to my husband for Christmas a few years ago. People were also talking about it during Nonfiction November. I read this author’s The Good Rain: Across Time and Terrain in the Pacific Northwest and enjoyed it.

4) Motherless Brooklyn by Jonathan Lethem (literary fiction/mystery). I bought this at the Friends of the Seattle Public Library book sale years ago.

5) Bel Canto by Ann Patchett (literary fiction). Someone lent this one to me, and I never gave it back. Sorry! You can have it in 2016. I have read the following titles by this author:  Run, State of Wonder, The Patron Saint of Liars, What Now?, and most of This is the Story of a Happy Marriage.

6) Charming Billy by Alice McDermott (literary fiction). I bought this one at the Friends of the Seattle Public Library book sale years ago. My mother recommends it. (Completed 6/15. Review here)

7) Shatter by Michael Robotham (mystery/thriller). I bought this one new at Third Place Books in Seattle. This is the third in the Joseph O’Loughlin series, which I started a couple of years ago.

8) The Invisible Bridge by Julie Orringer (literary fiction). I bought this one at a used bookstore a few summers ago, when it was all the rage. I can’t remember which store it was.

9) When the World Was Steady by Claire Messud (literary fiction). I bought this one at a Friends of the Seattle Public Library book sale. I have read this author’s The Emperor’s Children (which I loved) and TheWoman Upstairs (which I loved less). (Completed 3/18/15. Review here).

10) Code Name Verity by Elizabeth Wein (YA). I also bought this one at the library book sale. My favorite famous librarian, Nancy Pearl, recommends it.

11) After You’d Gone by Maggie O’Farrell (literary fiction). I bought this one used at Magers and Quinn bookstore in Minneapolis a few years ago. I have read The Hand That First Held Mine, The Vanishing Act of Esme Lennox, and Instructions for a Heatwave by this author, and I have liked them all. (Completed 7/30/15. Review here).

12) A Dual Inheritance by Joanna Hershon (literary fiction). I bought this one at Powells bookstore in Portland.

And my two alternates are:

1)   The Obituary Writer by Ann Hood (literary fiction). This is another book I picked up at the library book sale. I read this author’s Something Blue 20 years ago. (Completed 5/21/15. Review here).

2)   My Dream of You by Nuala O’Faolain (literary fiction). I ordered this used online, from some store that links with Amazon.

Does anyone want to do this challenge with me? If so, please share your list of books in the comments section (or join it officially! But please let me know that you're doing it). It’s easy to leave a comment – I promise. Click on the word "comment" below. Then just choose "anonymous" as your ID and write your comment. Remember to hit "Publish" when you're done.  It would be great if you would sign your name in the comment so that I know who you are.