Passion trumps reason in this gothic extravaganza.
Scientific speculation seeps into the world of the eerie in Trussoni's (The Fortress, 2016, etc.) lush thriller.
Alberta Monte, known to all as Bert, is mourning a miscarriage and has recently separated from her husband when she receives a letter at her Hudson Valley home informing her that she has been identified as the last living descendant of the House of Montebianco. Despite a “creeping sense of danger slithering up my spine,” Bert allows the estate's lawyer to sweep her off by private jet first to a luxury hotel in Turin and then by helicopter to Montebianco Castle in the remote, snowbound Italian Alps. Finding herself without cellphone or internet access, and observing that the helicopter pilot doesn't return for her at the promised time, Bert begins to suspect that her inheritance has its minuses as well as its pluses. Life inside the castle, which comes complete with eccentric caretakers, vicious guard dogs, and a madwoman in the attic, is hard enough. Outside the castle live blue-eyed, white-haired, big-footed monsters with whom, she comes to understand, she shares a surprising kinship. As she discovers her links with those inside the castle and outside it, her sense of danger grows. Trussoni plays here with the contemporary obsession with using DNA to uncover the past and employs some far-fetched scientific theories to explain the nature and existence of the humanoids that Bert gradually realizes are somehow connected to the complicated bloodline of the mysterious Montebiancos. Few, however, are likely to read the novel for its insights into genetics and biology. At its heart, this is an opulently romantic horror tale, with a plucky, if not always sensible, heroine who discovers she is part of a family whose dark secrets have been sheltered from the world at large.
Passion trumps reason in this gothic extravaganza.Pub Date: April 7, 2020
ISBN: 978-0-06-291275-6
Page Count: 400
Publisher: Morrow/HarperCollins
Review Posted Online: Jan. 12, 2020
Kirkus Reviews Issue: Feb. 1, 2020
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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