Jones’ deep affection for his characters and the light, anecdotal touch with which he nudges them away from despair makes...
In this droll, beguiling tale, the mayor of a depressed New Zealand town finds an unusual way to damp pessimism and rekindle cooled marriages.
The town of New Egypt began to empty out in the 1970s when the main business, the NE Paints factory, closed. As the book opens some 20 years later, Mayor Harry Bryant, the first-person narrator, has just returned to New Egypt from a trip abroad in time to oversee the latest effort to keep the town from dying and find “a way to live in a place so riddled with rejection.” But his hopes that the first cruise ship ever to dock at New Egypt will lead to more tourist arrivals are sunk when the posh visitors see “how wretched we look” and can’t weigh anchor fast enough. As Jones (A History of Silence, 2014, etc.) weaves his meandering tale through flashbacks and detours, it very slowly becomes apparent that the remedy for New Egypt is right there in town. It dates from a 1942 rat infestation and one of the men who didn’t go to war, a teacher and artist named Alma. He offered the women left alone his pest-control services if they posed for him. He remained attached to one named Alice (580 sketches) even when her husband returned and, suspecting a dalliance, spent weeks moving a sizable hill by shovel and handcart to prove his love. Alice ended up with yet another man and gave birth to Harry, who used his payoff from NE Paints’ closure to buy a junk shop, where he employs Alma. Together they concoct something to revive the town’s spirits that shouldn’t be spoiled by disclosure and that is both far-fetched and utterly suitable for this quirky rummage tale.
Jones’ deep affection for his characters and the light, anecdotal touch with which he nudges them away from despair makes for a warm and original entertainment.Pub Date: March 15, 2016
ISBN: 978-1-925095-37-1
Page Count: 313
Publisher: Text
Review Posted Online: Jan. 9, 2016
Kirkus Reviews Issue: Jan. 15, 2016
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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