by Ami McKay
I enjoyed this book. When I put it down, I looked forward to picking it up again. McKay is good at evoking the hard beauty of life in rural Nova Scotia at the beginning of the twentieth century. She has a large cast of characters and we feel we could visit this community and recognize everybody: the hard-working, decent, sometimes ignorant men and women whom life has taught to be no-nonsense, the women’s cliques with their prejudices and pretensions which go back generations, and the girls from away with their fresh ideas, who don’t recognize the authority of the old families. Some of the characters are memorable: the original and colourful Acadian, Marie Babineau, takes over all the scenes she is in. And there is the stalwart and conflicted Hart and his weak, spoiled and selfish brother, Archer. I enjoyed following Dora Rare’s growth from a lonely teenager to a leader in her community, gathering friends and confidence as she matured.
The pace is good, and the narrative moves along in a well-balanced and brisk fashion.
The prose is lyrical with vivid images and the dialogue flows naturally.
This is a feel-good book for women. It embraces all the issues that interest modern Canadian women: midwifery and home birth, control over one’s own body, suspicion of experts who have lost touch with human issues, herbal cures and natural foods, alternative green energy, and finding one’s calling and fulfilling one’s ‘passion.’ There is even the requisite lesbian couple who teach the protagonist that sex can be full of joy and love.
I can’t say the author is manipulative or insincere. She is genuine, believes in all these things herself and has written a book that reflects her own choices and appeals to like-minded women. Dora, the protagonist, faces problems with which we identify and makes conclusions that we applaud. Of the sex workers, she wonders whether they are not the same as women like herself who gave up power over her own body for the security of a home. She is open to new ideas. As a girl she is a romantic, conflicted and ignorant about her emerging sensuality. We see her ignorance and vulnerability taken advantage of when she enters a marriage to a callous man who has no respect for her. We hurt for her as she accepts her situation and doesn’t know that it could be better. She confronts social problems that interest us: girlhood bullying, an abusive husband, and the search for security. We readers relate to her problems. We are happy to see little Dora develop into a strong woman who follows her own career and maintains an equal-partner relationship with a man who makes no demands on her. These are our modern ideals.
But is the book well written?
This is a first novel and I think it strains under research insufficiently kneaded into the two essentials: plot and character. We read about the Acadian Dispersion, the Halifax Explosion, World War I, white feathers, suffragettes, the Temperance Union, the Influenza Epidemic, the Boston molasses explosion, the end of the shipbuilding era in Nova Scotia, and the coming of electricity. We have a history lesson in the pages of a novel. Does this enhance the story? Are the events germane to the plot? Do they drive it? Do they develop the characters? Mostly the answer is no. They seem imposed on the plot in an effort to create an authentic setting. Most of these events could be excised without changing the plot.
Archer, for instance, is given the white feather, but this seems to have no effect on him or Dora. It was presented out of jealousy, not patriotism. We know that in fact, men who received the white feather were humiliated and even driven to suicide, and we expect this event to be a plot driver in the novel, but it fizzles out. I felt that McKay just wanted to tell me that she knew about the use of white feathers during the war. Well, I know about them too, and, like a gun introduced into a first act, I’d like to see it used by the conclusion.
Just by chance, the first time Dora ventures out of her immediate vicinity, the Explosion happens, and she goes to Halifax to help out. Does this help the plot or develop her character? She goes back to Scots Bay and worries about her marriage and her barrenness. The whole episode could be excised and the story would be no different.
The magazine literature advertising sexual advice and aids for women was interesting and well-researched. The gadgets sold, women bought them. But would Dora have bought them? A character has been developed who is opposed to the new ways brought to the village by Dr. Thomas, the villain of the story. She knows that the printed page carries misinformation; she has seen lies written about herself in the Canning Register, and she has seen her husband taken in by printed advertisements for windmills. Would Dora really have believed the advertisements and ordered sex aids from a magazine?
It seems to me that Dora is a strong character wanting to emerge from this story, but McKay is so eager to include references that ground her book in an authentic time and place, that she neglects the authenticity of her character. She wants to impose her thinking on this girl from another era. She holds Dora on too tight a leash. Dora’s function as a proponent of midwifery is more important to McKay than allowing her character to grow into who she wants to be. Next time, Ami, relax the reins.
McKay says that she wanted her style of writing to resemble the emptying of her mother’s pockets at the end of the day, and include all the disparate items that represented her life. The introduction of letters, newspaper clippings, invitations, and so on into the text is part of this attempt. Including letters in a narrative is an old device. It varies the rhythm, and focuses attention on what is often a turning point in a plot. These intrusions have more effect when done less liberally, in my opinion. In The Birth House there are so many of them that they appear as shortcuts to proper development of the drama and response to events. It’s an original attempt, but I think it is overworked.
What is the theme of this book? I think it is to teach us to value traditional healing and the wisdom of experience and promote midwifery. Unfortunately, the figure who represents modern medicine, Dr. Thomas, is so entirely malign, that a real debate can never emerge from this book. There cannot be a satisfactory resolution when the two sides are unequal. We know that doctors and midwives can work together and doctors have learned a lot from midwives. But this book ends with the banishment of the doctor. Midwives Rule!
This is a book from the 60s , from the back-to-the earth people who formed the first co-ops and discovered wheat berries and bulgur and introduced America to yogurt. I am a first cohort baby boomer. I remember this stuff. But I have learned that there are many sides to an issue and I appreciate a fair debate. I have moved on.
E*
Tuesday, November 23, 2010
Friday, September 10, 2010
The Help
The Help
Kathryn Stockett
I was surprised by how much I liked this book. Stockett is a good story-teller. She has a wide cast of characters, with diverse personalities and she manages to keep them all true to themselves. The story unfolds through the voices of the main characters who take turns telling the tale, each from her own perspective. Men are in the background in this book. It is the story of women domestics in the Deep South of the 60s and the women who hire them.
There are many characters, and unfortunately, some of them become caricatures in the rush to tell the story. The strong black women who hold together their families while working long hours for demanding, spoiled employers are the best developed. Each has her own private tragedy and is supported by the others in the community. Each takes a risk when she decides to take part in the project that drives the plot of the book: to contribute her personal stories to a book about what it is like to be a domestic in a white home in Mississippi.
Stockett found it harder to write sympathetically about the white women, and they are less distinguishable as they spend their days at the pool and tennis courts and playing bridge. Miss Hilly, especially, the leader of her coterie, is one-dimensional, the arch-typical insensitive, self-centred woman, leading the campaign to keep the black help out of white bathrooms, alternately hounding the help and shunning the white women who have crossed swords with her. Apart from her love of power, her motives are not explored.
The secret of Miss Hilly's power seems to lie in the passivity and cowardice of the other white women. Stockett takes an interesting look at the existence of female cliques and their loyalty system, which are not specific to the south.
The shallowness of the lives of Southern women has been shown before, since Gone With the Wind. The mother of Skeeter, the protagonist, wants nothing more for her daughter than for her to be shorter, have better hair, and to get married. Miss Celia, the 'white trash' woman who has married into Jackson society, expends all her energy on trying to be accepted into Miss Hilly's group of friends.
The most developed character is Skeeter, freshly graduated from university and in search of a career. On a whim, she decides to write a book about the black help who raise the white children of her community. As the book progresses, and she learns their stories, she matures and realizes the responsibility she has undertaken for these vulnerable women. Her childhood friends turn against her when she disagrees with Miss Hilly, and she examines herself and realizes that she has values which she cannot compromise. Despite her physical attraction for her suitor, Stuart Whitworth, she sees that she could never spend a lifetime with him and fall into the mold of a southern belle.
Stockett is good at creating her setting: the beauty of her father's farm, the summer heat, the country club, the bus ride to the black side of town, the snobbery among the white society. When she and her parents are invited to the influential Whitworths for supper, the description of her father wearing "his black funeral suit" sums up succinctly the awkwardness of the farmer looking his best when he comes to town. Rosa Parks has just taken her famous bus ride, and people are talking about the big rally in Washington.
Stockett's strength is story-telling and the impact of her book lies in the stories she reveals about the black and white lives which are intertwined in the intimacies of child rearing and house-keeping, and yet divided by the gulf of colour and the history of slavery.
The winners are revealed to be the losers and vice versa in this book. While the white women benefit from the rules of Southern society, they are alike in their insensitivity and shallowness. The black women all have their individual heartaches and yet survive through personal strength and community support.
Among those maids who decide to tell their stories is Minnie, whose fiery temper gets her into trouble, but whose warm heart and common sense are a support for her misfit employer. A former boss gave her a week's vacation, and when Minnie came back to work, she found that the family had moved out of town and had not given Minnie prior notice because they were afraid she would find other employment while they still had need of her. Minnie's courage to tell her stories is rewarded when the royalties from the book allow her to leave her abusive husband.
Another maid is Yule May, whose son is blinded by a lynch mob. And there is Abileen, who helps Skeeter with her household hints column in the local paper and is her contact with the rest of the black community. Abileen has raised seventeen white children, her maternal nature has loved them all, but the forces of society have turned them all into racists of some degree. The anomaly of white women entrusting the raising of their children to black maids is not overlooked.
These maids are the glue that makes this society work. One of them has a special treasure: a thank you note handed to her at the funeral of one of her employers. "Thank you for making my baby stop hurting," it read.
In the end, these risk takers are rewarded, the racist Miss Hilly is silenced to some degree, and Skeeter, who has outgrown Jackson society, gets a job in New York. The threads are tied up and we are relieved of the suspense created by the very real risks taken by these women. It is all a bit too good to be true, but it's always nice to have a happy ending.
Kathryn Stockett
I was surprised by how much I liked this book. Stockett is a good story-teller. She has a wide cast of characters, with diverse personalities and she manages to keep them all true to themselves. The story unfolds through the voices of the main characters who take turns telling the tale, each from her own perspective. Men are in the background in this book. It is the story of women domestics in the Deep South of the 60s and the women who hire them.
There are many characters, and unfortunately, some of them become caricatures in the rush to tell the story. The strong black women who hold together their families while working long hours for demanding, spoiled employers are the best developed. Each has her own private tragedy and is supported by the others in the community. Each takes a risk when she decides to take part in the project that drives the plot of the book: to contribute her personal stories to a book about what it is like to be a domestic in a white home in Mississippi.
Stockett found it harder to write sympathetically about the white women, and they are less distinguishable as they spend their days at the pool and tennis courts and playing bridge. Miss Hilly, especially, the leader of her coterie, is one-dimensional, the arch-typical insensitive, self-centred woman, leading the campaign to keep the black help out of white bathrooms, alternately hounding the help and shunning the white women who have crossed swords with her. Apart from her love of power, her motives are not explored.
The secret of Miss Hilly's power seems to lie in the passivity and cowardice of the other white women. Stockett takes an interesting look at the existence of female cliques and their loyalty system, which are not specific to the south.
The shallowness of the lives of Southern women has been shown before, since Gone With the Wind. The mother of Skeeter, the protagonist, wants nothing more for her daughter than for her to be shorter, have better hair, and to get married. Miss Celia, the 'white trash' woman who has married into Jackson society, expends all her energy on trying to be accepted into Miss Hilly's group of friends.
The most developed character is Skeeter, freshly graduated from university and in search of a career. On a whim, she decides to write a book about the black help who raise the white children of her community. As the book progresses, and she learns their stories, she matures and realizes the responsibility she has undertaken for these vulnerable women. Her childhood friends turn against her when she disagrees with Miss Hilly, and she examines herself and realizes that she has values which she cannot compromise. Despite her physical attraction for her suitor, Stuart Whitworth, she sees that she could never spend a lifetime with him and fall into the mold of a southern belle.
Stockett is good at creating her setting: the beauty of her father's farm, the summer heat, the country club, the bus ride to the black side of town, the snobbery among the white society. When she and her parents are invited to the influential Whitworths for supper, the description of her father wearing "his black funeral suit" sums up succinctly the awkwardness of the farmer looking his best when he comes to town. Rosa Parks has just taken her famous bus ride, and people are talking about the big rally in Washington.
Stockett's strength is story-telling and the impact of her book lies in the stories she reveals about the black and white lives which are intertwined in the intimacies of child rearing and house-keeping, and yet divided by the gulf of colour and the history of slavery.
The winners are revealed to be the losers and vice versa in this book. While the white women benefit from the rules of Southern society, they are alike in their insensitivity and shallowness. The black women all have their individual heartaches and yet survive through personal strength and community support.
Among those maids who decide to tell their stories is Minnie, whose fiery temper gets her into trouble, but whose warm heart and common sense are a support for her misfit employer. A former boss gave her a week's vacation, and when Minnie came back to work, she found that the family had moved out of town and had not given Minnie prior notice because they were afraid she would find other employment while they still had need of her. Minnie's courage to tell her stories is rewarded when the royalties from the book allow her to leave her abusive husband.
Another maid is Yule May, whose son is blinded by a lynch mob. And there is Abileen, who helps Skeeter with her household hints column in the local paper and is her contact with the rest of the black community. Abileen has raised seventeen white children, her maternal nature has loved them all, but the forces of society have turned them all into racists of some degree. The anomaly of white women entrusting the raising of their children to black maids is not overlooked.
These maids are the glue that makes this society work. One of them has a special treasure: a thank you note handed to her at the funeral of one of her employers. "Thank you for making my baby stop hurting," it read.
In the end, these risk takers are rewarded, the racist Miss Hilly is silenced to some degree, and Skeeter, who has outgrown Jackson society, gets a job in New York. The threads are tied up and we are relieved of the suspense created by the very real risks taken by these women. It is all a bit too good to be true, but it's always nice to have a happy ending.
Friday, July 9, 2010
Testimony
Testimony
by
Anita Shreve
In 2005, at Milton Academy near Boston, a notorious sex party took place. The event was videoed and broadcast, mishandled by school authorities, and sensationalized by the press. Two books and a magazine article have been written about the incident.
The first book, Restless Virgins, is non-fiction, written by two graduates of Milton Academy, and based on interviews with those involved. It claims to show that the incident represented a new pattern of behaviour among high school students.
The magazine article, Love Actually, is written by Caitlin Flanagan in the June 2010 issue of the Atlantic and is partly a review of the novel by Anita Shreve, Testimony, published in 2008.
Flanagan's interest is in the response to sex and romance by modern teenage girls. Along with the authors of Restless Virgins, she feels that there is a disturbing twist to the perennial boyfriend quest, which she calls, "the hook-up culture." Flanagan found the conclusions of Restless Virgins unsatisfactory, and recommends instead the novel, Testimony.
Testimony, however, does not address the issue of the hook-up culture that so dismays Flanagan. It places the event in its community and tries to show what kind of teenagers take part in sex parties, the entitlement culture of elite sports teams, the pressure of the home environment, the betrayal of responsibility by lax supervision by those in a position of responsibility, and the tragic repercussions of the event on the young people involved, on those who loved and supported them, and on the whole school community.
Rather than depicting the key players as caught up in a teenage sub-culture, Shreve gives the background and reflections of each of them and shows that each case was special. The girl in question is shown as non-typical of her classmates, recognized by her room-mate and the older boys as having different priorities and interests from an average girl her age.
Of the six boys involved, two recognized the danger and left the party, one was nineteen and almost out of his teenage years, one was reacting to the recent discovery that his mother was having an affair with the school principal, one took the video but did not otherwise participate, and one was so drunk that he acted out of character. We conclude that the event and the participants were out of the ordinary.
I would not bother to read another book by Anita Shreve myself. Although she is a competent writer, Testimony is more in the young-adult category. But I would strongly recommend that the book be studied in high school classes.
The subject matter is very relevant to teenagers, and the format, with each chapter being a different voice, rather like a reality television show, makes the book easy to break up into segments for discussion. High school years can be hard ones and teenagers need guidance and open discussion to lead them through the pertinent moral issues examined in this book.
Shreve is candid about the power of sex but also reassuring that, although they happen, wild sex parties are not the norm in high school. Given Shreve's perspective, it seems odd that Flanagan recommends this book as an insight into the hook-up culture. But its study could well give positive direction to adolescents dealing with the reality.
E*
by
Anita Shreve
In 2005, at Milton Academy near Boston, a notorious sex party took place. The event was videoed and broadcast, mishandled by school authorities, and sensationalized by the press. Two books and a magazine article have been written about the incident.
The first book, Restless Virgins, is non-fiction, written by two graduates of Milton Academy, and based on interviews with those involved. It claims to show that the incident represented a new pattern of behaviour among high school students.
The magazine article, Love Actually, is written by Caitlin Flanagan in the June 2010 issue of the Atlantic and is partly a review of the novel by Anita Shreve, Testimony, published in 2008.
Flanagan's interest is in the response to sex and romance by modern teenage girls. Along with the authors of Restless Virgins, she feels that there is a disturbing twist to the perennial boyfriend quest, which she calls, "the hook-up culture." Flanagan found the conclusions of Restless Virgins unsatisfactory, and recommends instead the novel, Testimony.
Testimony, however, does not address the issue of the hook-up culture that so dismays Flanagan. It places the event in its community and tries to show what kind of teenagers take part in sex parties, the entitlement culture of elite sports teams, the pressure of the home environment, the betrayal of responsibility by lax supervision by those in a position of responsibility, and the tragic repercussions of the event on the young people involved, on those who loved and supported them, and on the whole school community.
Rather than depicting the key players as caught up in a teenage sub-culture, Shreve gives the background and reflections of each of them and shows that each case was special. The girl in question is shown as non-typical of her classmates, recognized by her room-mate and the older boys as having different priorities and interests from an average girl her age.
Of the six boys involved, two recognized the danger and left the party, one was nineteen and almost out of his teenage years, one was reacting to the recent discovery that his mother was having an affair with the school principal, one took the video but did not otherwise participate, and one was so drunk that he acted out of character. We conclude that the event and the participants were out of the ordinary.
I would not bother to read another book by Anita Shreve myself. Although she is a competent writer, Testimony is more in the young-adult category. But I would strongly recommend that the book be studied in high school classes.
The subject matter is very relevant to teenagers, and the format, with each chapter being a different voice, rather like a reality television show, makes the book easy to break up into segments for discussion. High school years can be hard ones and teenagers need guidance and open discussion to lead them through the pertinent moral issues examined in this book.
Shreve is candid about the power of sex but also reassuring that, although they happen, wild sex parties are not the norm in high school. Given Shreve's perspective, it seems odd that Flanagan recommends this book as an insight into the hook-up culture. But its study could well give positive direction to adolescents dealing with the reality.
E*
Tuesday, May 25, 2010
The Long Song by Andrea Levy
The Long Song
By
Andrea Levy
I think that this is a very well-written book. It purports to be the life's reminiscences of an old woman, yet it encompasses the brutality of slavery in Jamaica, the complexity of the transition that followed emancipation, British racism, and its many cloaks. The straight-forward story-telling is compelling, but the social situation of the setting leaves a lasting impression.
Levy has developed a style that seamlessly integrates narrative with description. So, for instance, when reading about the preparations for a Christmas Dinner, we are simultaneously caught up in the action and interaction of the characters, and also given a vivid picture of plantation life in 1870s Jamaica. The setting has been well researched, from the oranges rubbed on the wood floors to make them shine, to the difference in sanitary practices between rich and poor. The social interactions are subtly but clearly presented - the rivalry between the white plantation owners, the treatment of slaves, and the complicity among slaves as they exact their own little revenges upon their owners.
The narrative is just fast enough to be compelling, but it is infused by a vivid depiction of life among blacks and whites under the hot Caribbean sun. The pacing is perfect. Descriptions are always germane to the narrative which is recounted by July, the audacious black house-slave whose story frames the book.
The voice, or voices, sound authentic and are consistent with the narration. The bulk of the story is told by July, by now elderly and living with her son, Thomas, the minor voice, who is the well-educated owner of a publishing house. This combination of narrators makes the voices plausible. July has an irrepressible side to her character which she may have lost during the hard years after her master left Jamaica, but which resurfaces in old age when life is easier. As an old woman, she nags her grandchildren; as a young woman she pestered her mistress. We see the same irrepressible nature in her little grand daughters. The persistence of this trait gives consistency to her voice. The impetus and commitment to tell the whole tale comes from the educated Thomas who recognizes that his mother has a story worth telling. We who have had older parents identify with his response: "You should write this down!"
The role of Christianity in the emancipation of the slaves comes under reflective scrutiny. Christian ideals led to freedom for slaves, but British societal values made it hard for whites to follow their Biblical teaching when faced with colonial life. The headstart which Thomas received by being brought up in a strict Baptist family and his eventual blossoming under the tutelage of the freethinker, Linus Gray, symbolizes the limitation of the Bible-believing emancipationists.
A comparison begs to be made between the naughty, imaginative July of The Long Song, and the teflon Aminata of The Book of Negroes (Someone Knows My Name in the US) by Lawrence Hill. Both protagonists experienced the horrors of slavery and the transition to emancipation, although the timing was later in the US. Both are telling their story to a named audience. Levy is so much more astute to address us, the readers, through the intervention of her son, than was Hill, who compelled his character to speak to an audience of self-righteous emancipators with political ambitions. July is a character who comes alive on the page, whereas little Aminata soldiers on, unable to show her emotions to her readers.
The Long Song is a memorable book for the character of July, who defiantly dances through the narrative, and for the sober setting painted so vividly. Poor benighted Jamaica. With such racial exploitation in its history, no wonder it is such a troubled country today. What terrible mistakes were made. What indifference and hatred flourished.
E*
By
Andrea Levy
I think that this is a very well-written book. It purports to be the life's reminiscences of an old woman, yet it encompasses the brutality of slavery in Jamaica, the complexity of the transition that followed emancipation, British racism, and its many cloaks. The straight-forward story-telling is compelling, but the social situation of the setting leaves a lasting impression.
Levy has developed a style that seamlessly integrates narrative with description. So, for instance, when reading about the preparations for a Christmas Dinner, we are simultaneously caught up in the action and interaction of the characters, and also given a vivid picture of plantation life in 1870s Jamaica. The setting has been well researched, from the oranges rubbed on the wood floors to make them shine, to the difference in sanitary practices between rich and poor. The social interactions are subtly but clearly presented - the rivalry between the white plantation owners, the treatment of slaves, and the complicity among slaves as they exact their own little revenges upon their owners.
The narrative is just fast enough to be compelling, but it is infused by a vivid depiction of life among blacks and whites under the hot Caribbean sun. The pacing is perfect. Descriptions are always germane to the narrative which is recounted by July, the audacious black house-slave whose story frames the book.
The voice, or voices, sound authentic and are consistent with the narration. The bulk of the story is told by July, by now elderly and living with her son, Thomas, the minor voice, who is the well-educated owner of a publishing house. This combination of narrators makes the voices plausible. July has an irrepressible side to her character which she may have lost during the hard years after her master left Jamaica, but which resurfaces in old age when life is easier. As an old woman, she nags her grandchildren; as a young woman she pestered her mistress. We see the same irrepressible nature in her little grand daughters. The persistence of this trait gives consistency to her voice. The impetus and commitment to tell the whole tale comes from the educated Thomas who recognizes that his mother has a story worth telling. We who have had older parents identify with his response: "You should write this down!"
The role of Christianity in the emancipation of the slaves comes under reflective scrutiny. Christian ideals led to freedom for slaves, but British societal values made it hard for whites to follow their Biblical teaching when faced with colonial life. The headstart which Thomas received by being brought up in a strict Baptist family and his eventual blossoming under the tutelage of the freethinker, Linus Gray, symbolizes the limitation of the Bible-believing emancipationists.
A comparison begs to be made between the naughty, imaginative July of The Long Song, and the teflon Aminata of The Book of Negroes (Someone Knows My Name in the US) by Lawrence Hill. Both protagonists experienced the horrors of slavery and the transition to emancipation, although the timing was later in the US. Both are telling their story to a named audience. Levy is so much more astute to address us, the readers, through the intervention of her son, than was Hill, who compelled his character to speak to an audience of self-righteous emancipators with political ambitions. July is a character who comes alive on the page, whereas little Aminata soldiers on, unable to show her emotions to her readers.
The Long Song is a memorable book for the character of July, who defiantly dances through the narrative, and for the sober setting painted so vividly. Poor benighted Jamaica. With such racial exploitation in its history, no wonder it is such a troubled country today. What terrible mistakes were made. What indifference and hatred flourished.
E*
Saturday, May 8, 2010
The Girl Who Kicked the Hornets' Nest
The Girl who Kicked the Hornets' Nest
Steig Larsson
This is a book for people who are devoted to Lisbeth Salander, to be read only by those who have already devoured the other books in the Millenium Series: The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo and The Girl Who Played With Fire. It is a tome with a cast of thousands and plots and subplots which would seem impossible to untangle and which I shall not attempt to summarize. There are not as many cliffhangers as in the other two books, but the clever weaving of all the plot threads kept my interest. The "hornets' nest" is the Swedish version of the CIA which hides secrets within secrets and has become a lair for people with their own agendas. The proud Swedish democracy has become undemocratic because of a power base hidden in their 'Sapo.'
This whole scenario probably resonates more with Swedes than with other nationalities, but it appeals to conspiracy theorists everywhere.
Lisbeth's complex character develops a little and she becomes less asocial as she realizes that she has friends who are willing to go to great lengths to help her. I would have liked to see more character development in this last novel of the series. The hornets' nest is kicked and scattered with 100 pages left to go. I had hoped that the rest of the book would focus on how Lisbeth realigned her life now that she had been exonerated. Immediately after the trial, having vanquished her enemies, she feels no direction in her life and flees to Gibraltar. When she returns to Sweden, it is not with a new grounding and promise to her life, but to tie up the loose plot ends and revisit Larsson's theme of violence against women. Much of the praise for the Millenium Series centres on the unusual character of Salander, and all three books have the words, 'The Girl' in the title. I had expected that this third book would have more resolution to how she adapts to being a citizen with, as the judge told her, not only rights but also obligations to society. Salander has made firm friends in Holgren, Blomkvist, Giannini, Armansky, Dr. Jonasson and Mimmi, and yet Larsson persists in depicting her antisocial personality.
The lasting theme in this book is how a government organization like Sapo (or the CIA or MI5 or CSIS) which is set up to foil secret plots against our democratic societies can become trapped by its own secrecy. Because it is set up to sift through secrets, a government intelligence agency can become too secretive in itself and become a haven for those who want to conduct secret missions that conflict with the democracy which the organizations are mandated to protect.
The Girl Who Kicked the Hornets' Nest is a doorstop, but a must-read for people who want the full dose of this Swedish publishing sensation.
E*
Steig Larsson
This is a book for people who are devoted to Lisbeth Salander, to be read only by those who have already devoured the other books in the Millenium Series: The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo and The Girl Who Played With Fire. It is a tome with a cast of thousands and plots and subplots which would seem impossible to untangle and which I shall not attempt to summarize. There are not as many cliffhangers as in the other two books, but the clever weaving of all the plot threads kept my interest. The "hornets' nest" is the Swedish version of the CIA which hides secrets within secrets and has become a lair for people with their own agendas. The proud Swedish democracy has become undemocratic because of a power base hidden in their 'Sapo.'
This whole scenario probably resonates more with Swedes than with other nationalities, but it appeals to conspiracy theorists everywhere.
Lisbeth's complex character develops a little and she becomes less asocial as she realizes that she has friends who are willing to go to great lengths to help her. I would have liked to see more character development in this last novel of the series. The hornets' nest is kicked and scattered with 100 pages left to go. I had hoped that the rest of the book would focus on how Lisbeth realigned her life now that she had been exonerated. Immediately after the trial, having vanquished her enemies, she feels no direction in her life and flees to Gibraltar. When she returns to Sweden, it is not with a new grounding and promise to her life, but to tie up the loose plot ends and revisit Larsson's theme of violence against women. Much of the praise for the Millenium Series centres on the unusual character of Salander, and all three books have the words, 'The Girl' in the title. I had expected that this third book would have more resolution to how she adapts to being a citizen with, as the judge told her, not only rights but also obligations to society. Salander has made firm friends in Holgren, Blomkvist, Giannini, Armansky, Dr. Jonasson and Mimmi, and yet Larsson persists in depicting her antisocial personality.
The lasting theme in this book is how a government organization like Sapo (or the CIA or MI5 or CSIS) which is set up to foil secret plots against our democratic societies can become trapped by its own secrecy. Because it is set up to sift through secrets, a government intelligence agency can become too secretive in itself and become a haven for those who want to conduct secret missions that conflict with the democracy which the organizations are mandated to protect.
The Girl Who Kicked the Hornets' Nest is a doorstop, but a must-read for people who want the full dose of this Swedish publishing sensation.
E*
Monday, April 12, 2010
La's Orchestra Saves the World by Alexander McCall Smith
La's Orchestra Saves the World by Alexander McCall Smith
The setting is England just before and during WW2, and then skips ahead to the Cuban Crisis. This book was lent to me by a friend with whom I had been in a TMI course in which we had been discussing the Cuba Crisis. It is unlike the other McCall Smith books I have read, although the love that the writer shows for English countryside reminds me of the love that Mme Ramotswe has for Botswana. People who love England will love this book.
It is beautifully written, with much attention to setting, both place and time. The behaviour of the characters is appropriate for the time. It is a thought-provoking little book, and a pleasure to read.
The protagonist, Lavender, or 'La,' does not have an easy life, but takes happiness where she can find it. In many ways she does not live up to early expectations. She belongs to that age of women who were accepted into universities, where they tended to study liberal arts and find upon graduation that they had to find their own niches, and there were not many of them. La does well in music and English lit at Cambridge but lets herself fall into an unhappy marriage and then is left a widow before the war. She is well provided for by her in-laws, and carries on with her life, doing whatever turns up, and as time goes on, she realizes that she has never reached out and accomplished very much.
But she did do one thing, and that, in the end, seems to have been enough. She organized an orchestra as a morale booster during the war, and held a peace concert during the Cuban Missile Crisis. Just as the concert was underway, Krushchev made his announcement that he would withdraw the missiles.
Everyone in her circle felt that her life was associated with music and peace, and that is what she was loved and respected for. But apart from the orchestra, her life seemed empty.
There is a love story that runs through the plot. During the war, she meets a Polish airman, and a love affair could have developed, but curiously, she reported him as a possible German spy.
In another incident, some money was reported missig by a farmer for whom she worked, and she reported her suspicions of the culprit to the policeman. She turned out to be quite wrong in both cases. So there is a strange sub-plot about informing on people on the basis of suspicion and conjecture before sufficient evidence is obtained. This may be the effect of wartime thinking, although no mention is made of the secrecy warnings that were common then.
She paid for this busybodyness because Feliks, the Pole, who was quite innocent, was taken away for interrogation and naturally felt resentment. However, he turns up for the Cuban concert, and events take a happier turn.
So the strength of the novel is that it is well-written, a pleasure to read, and thought-provoking. It considers an ordinary person and her contribution to her own small world and concludes that if everyone made just her own little contribution to what she believed in, then that is sufficient reason to rejoice. But she is a woman with faults. There is this nasty lack of trust and compulsion to report on others, and there is a failure to reach out and make her life into something. But when she finally becomes proactive and organizes the second concert, her life takes a turn, and she does find happiness.
McCall Smith is a professor of medical law at the Univ. of Edinburgh and serves on many national and international bioethics boards. He has written many books in many series: First Ladies' Detective Agency, Isabel Dalhousie Series, Portuguese Irregular Verbs and 44 Scotland Street Series. La's Orchestra is not in a series.
E*
The setting is England just before and during WW2, and then skips ahead to the Cuban Crisis. This book was lent to me by a friend with whom I had been in a TMI course in which we had been discussing the Cuba Crisis. It is unlike the other McCall Smith books I have read, although the love that the writer shows for English countryside reminds me of the love that Mme Ramotswe has for Botswana. People who love England will love this book.
It is beautifully written, with much attention to setting, both place and time. The behaviour of the characters is appropriate for the time. It is a thought-provoking little book, and a pleasure to read.
The protagonist, Lavender, or 'La,' does not have an easy life, but takes happiness where she can find it. In many ways she does not live up to early expectations. She belongs to that age of women who were accepted into universities, where they tended to study liberal arts and find upon graduation that they had to find their own niches, and there were not many of them. La does well in music and English lit at Cambridge but lets herself fall into an unhappy marriage and then is left a widow before the war. She is well provided for by her in-laws, and carries on with her life, doing whatever turns up, and as time goes on, she realizes that she has never reached out and accomplished very much.
But she did do one thing, and that, in the end, seems to have been enough. She organized an orchestra as a morale booster during the war, and held a peace concert during the Cuban Missile Crisis. Just as the concert was underway, Krushchev made his announcement that he would withdraw the missiles.
Everyone in her circle felt that her life was associated with music and peace, and that is what she was loved and respected for. But apart from the orchestra, her life seemed empty.
There is a love story that runs through the plot. During the war, she meets a Polish airman, and a love affair could have developed, but curiously, she reported him as a possible German spy.
In another incident, some money was reported missig by a farmer for whom she worked, and she reported her suspicions of the culprit to the policeman. She turned out to be quite wrong in both cases. So there is a strange sub-plot about informing on people on the basis of suspicion and conjecture before sufficient evidence is obtained. This may be the effect of wartime thinking, although no mention is made of the secrecy warnings that were common then.
She paid for this busybodyness because Feliks, the Pole, who was quite innocent, was taken away for interrogation and naturally felt resentment. However, he turns up for the Cuban concert, and events take a happier turn.
So the strength of the novel is that it is well-written, a pleasure to read, and thought-provoking. It considers an ordinary person and her contribution to her own small world and concludes that if everyone made just her own little contribution to what she believed in, then that is sufficient reason to rejoice. But she is a woman with faults. There is this nasty lack of trust and compulsion to report on others, and there is a failure to reach out and make her life into something. But when she finally becomes proactive and organizes the second concert, her life takes a turn, and she does find happiness.
McCall Smith is a professor of medical law at the Univ. of Edinburgh and serves on many national and international bioethics boards. He has written many books in many series: First Ladies' Detective Agency, Isabel Dalhousie Series, Portuguese Irregular Verbs and 44 Scotland Street Series. La's Orchestra is not in a series.
E*
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