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THE TRANSLATION OF THE BONES

Poignancy, lyricism and elegant spiritual debate characterize this impressive if slender novel.

Lonely souls, notably mothers and children in a diverse community, are scrutinized by a noted young British writer.

After her U.K. debut, An Equal Stillness (2009), which won the Orange Award for New Writers, Kay’s first U.S. publication is another rich character study, this time connecting a span of individuals via two events at the Church of the Sacred Heart in south London. Devout but mentally unbalanced Mary-Margaret O’Reilly, a volunteer at the church, is cleaning a crucifix in a side chapel when she sees Jesus’ eyes open and blood seep from his wounds. Her fall from the altar lands her in the hospital, where an immigrant nurse hears her story and spreads the word. Other volunteers include Stella Morrison, the quietly dissatisfied wife of an ambitious politician; and Mrs. Armitage, whose son is fighting in Afghanistan. Then there’s Stella’s youngest son, Mary-Margaret’s mother and the church’s stand-in priest, all of them included in Kay’s gentle but searchingly empathetic consideration. This fills many pages of her short, Barbara Pym–flavored tragedy and generates a sense of limbo between the two turning points, but the quality of the prose, the emotional resonance and restrained mystery will satisfy readers unperturbed by limited plot development.

Poignancy, lyricism and elegant spiritual debate characterize this impressive if slender novel.

Pub Date: Jan. 1, 2012

ISBN: 978-1-4516-3681-9

Page Count: 240

Publisher: Scribner

Review Posted Online: Nov. 20, 2011

Kirkus Reviews Issue: Dec. 1, 2011

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THE SCREWTAPE LETTERS

These letters from some important executive Down Below, to one of the junior devils here on earth, whose job is to corrupt mortals, are witty and written in a breezy style seldom found in religious literature. The author quotes Luther, who said: "The best way to drive out the devil, if he will not yield to texts of Scripture, is to jeer and flout him, for he cannot bear scorn." This the author does most successfully, for by presenting some of our modern and not-so-modern beliefs as emanating from the devil's headquarters, he succeeds in making his reader feel like an ass for ever having believed in such ideas. This kind of presentation gives the author a tremendous advantage over the reader, however, for the more timid reader may feel a sense of guilt after putting down this book. It is a clever book, and for the clever reader, rather than the too-earnest soul.

Pub Date: Jan. 1, 1942

ISBN: 0060652934

Page Count: 53

Publisher: Macmillan

Review Posted Online: Oct. 17, 2011

Kirkus Reviews Issue: June 15, 1943

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THE HANDMAID'S TALE

Tinny perhaps, but still a minutely rendered and impressively steady feminist vision of apocalypse.

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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

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