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POCKETFUL OF NAMES

A lot of wind and little action on Hannah’s island.

A long and ponderous tale by Coomer (One Vacant Chair, 2003) follows the hollowing career trajectory of an artist and former Bennington student who returns to roost on her family’s isolated Maine island.

A stray dog washes ashore Ten Acre No Nine Island like driftwood and becomes the metaphor for Hannah Bryant’s forsaken existence on the island she inherited from her great-uncle, lobsterman Arno Weed. Growing up an orphan, she worked with her uncle as a sternman over several summers before abandoning the fisherman’s life for the big city, where she became an artist whose work sold and supported her. With the death of Uncle Arno, whom she learns also ran a drug business in amphetamines on the side, she returns to the island, hoping to live and paint in complete isolation. Not to be, however, when the dog and then people start showing up: first, a teenager named Will, seeking refuge from his abusive father in Texas, where the boy is a student of Hannah’s half-sister, Emily, who has joined a religious order. At 17, bright and helpful, Will becomes Hannah’s surrogate son and lives harmoniously with her for nearly a year before he goes to college. Then Emily arrives, pregnant from Will’s manipulative father, depressed and fearful that the evil parent will appear at any moment to wreak vengeance. The local pesky Beal family, daughter, father and grandfather, intrude as well. The greater world, further, keeps trespassing on Hannah in the form of news that her uncle kept a trust that essentially bought up all her painting, so that her life as an independent artist is proven a falsehood and she must come up with another way to live. Within pages and pages of rambling dialogue, Coomer demonstrates stylish moves in a reflective story that seems to take place over generations—while only a year of action essentially passed.

A lot of wind and little action on Hannah’s island.

Pub Date: June 1, 2005

ISBN: 1-55597-423-6

Page Count: 304

Publisher: Graywolf

Review Posted Online: May 19, 2010

Kirkus Reviews Issue: April 1, 2005

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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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ANIMAL FARM

A FAIRY STORY

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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