Well written but dull and uneventful.
The unhappy domestic life of a Utah family: a first novel from storywriter Fulton (Retribution, 2001).
Steven Parker is having a hard time of things, perhaps not so surprising for a teenaged boy living at home with his parents. He and sister Jenny are the only atheists in their Salt Lake City high school, which is somewhat like being the only Jew in Mecca. Classmates taunt them, and a gang of blond Mormon thugs led by the odious Danny Olsen beats up Steven. At the hospital, the siblings discover that their unemployed father has forgotten to make the insurance payments, and the family is saddled with a huge medical bill. Fortunately, Olsen’s father is a God-fearing man who, when he learns of the attack, makes Danny apologize and gives the Parkers a check to cover all the hospital fees and then some. Chalk one up for the Mormons: Jenny is so impressed by this generosity (and the proselytizing of classmate Janet) that she decides to become a Latter-day Saint herself. Steven, however, remains a resolute unbeliever, and their feckless father takes the family on a spending spree that fritters away the cash in no time at all. To make ends meet and ensure they have medical coverage, Steven’s mother takes a job as a nurse’s aide, washing and dressing elderly patients all day long at Oak Groves Assisted Living while Steven’s father talks vaguely of becoming a CPA . . . someday. Finally, the strain is too much, and she leaves her husband, taking Jenny and Steven with her. But her new husband Curtis, a Mormon, expects Steven to join the Latter-day Saints along with his mother and Jenny. Steven puts up with this for a while, but eventually goes back to Dad.
Well written but dull and uneventful.Pub Date: Aug. 1, 2002
ISBN: 0-312-27675-3
Page Count: 208
Publisher: Picador
Review Posted Online: May 19, 2010
Kirkus Reviews Issue: May 15, 2002
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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