Davis's skill brings wintry Montana alive—predictably bleak, unexpectedly vibrant—and if her characters inch over the top at...
Nothing—not the people, not the land, not the winter—is merely life-size in this brilliant, and beautifully written, debut novel from storywriter and Pushcart-winner Davis.
After four years of better-than-average sheriffing, Ike Parsons is still regarded as a stranger in the tough little Montana town that employs him. Sure, he can name all the people who regularly hang out at Steve’s Barber Shop, but that doesn’t mean he understands them. You have to be range-bred, he’s been told often enough, to grasp fully how Montanans feel about their land, their cattle and horses, their customs, their neighbors. Wisconsin farm-bred Ike agrees, but the fact is there’s no other place for him but among these hard-bitten, often quirky people because Pattiann, his wife, is rooted there. They met, almost by accident, at college. They fell in love-more deeply than Ike would have believed possible. And when she left to come home, Ike followed: no other choice. Now, however, there’s the matter of Chas Stubblefield confronting him, and the horrifying drama unfolding on the frost-bound Stubblefield ranch. Day after day, cattle have been dying, starved, because Chas is broke and can’t buy feed for them. It’s reached the point where the herd is beyond saving, where the only remaining question is how to end lives mercifully. Self-centered Chas, blaming everything but his own inept performance as a manager, remains sullen and uncooperative. Everyone in town recognizes how awful the situation is. Everyone knows something should be done, but no one’s going to thank Ike, the outlander, for doing it. Including Pattiann, whose feelings for Chas are complex—part compassion, part nostalgia. And there may be another part, too, Ike can’t help thinking, which is what both scares and infuriates him.
Davis's skill brings wintry Montana alive—predictably bleak, unexpectedly vibrant—and if her characters inch over the top at times, most readers won’t mind unduly.Pub Date: Sept. 1, 2000
ISBN: 0-312-26140-3
Page Count: 272
Publisher: Picador
Review Posted Online: May 19, 2010
Kirkus Reviews Issue: July 1, 2000
BOOK REVIEW
BOOK REVIEW
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
A modern day fable, with modern implications in a deceiving simplicity, by the author of Dickens. Dali and Others (Reynal & Hitchcock, p. 138), whose critical brilliance is well adapted to this type of satire. This tells of the revolt on a farm, against humans, when the pigs take over the intellectual superiority, training the horses, cows, sheep, etc., into acknowledging their greatness. The first hints come with the reading out of a pig who instigated the building of a windmill, so that the electric power would be theirs, the idea taken over by Napoleon who becomes topman with no maybes about it. Napoleon trains the young puppies to be his guards, dickers with humans, gradually instigates a reign of terror, and breaks the final commandment against any animal walking on two legs. The old faithful followers find themselves no better off for food and work than they were when man ruled them, learn their final disgrace when they see Napoleon and Squealer carousing with their enemies... A basic statement of the evils of dictatorship in that it not only corrupts the leaders, but deadens the intelligence and awareness of those led so that tyranny is inevitable. Mr. Orwell's animals exist in their own right, with a narrative as individual as it is apt in political parody.
Pub Date: Aug. 26, 1946
ISBN: 0452277507
Page Count: 114
Publisher: Harcourt, Brace
Review Posted Online: Nov. 2, 2011
Kirkus Reviews Issue: Aug. 1, 1946
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