Truthful and suffused with quiet ache: a welcome collection, with the Asian background presented without exoticism, as a...
Seven spare, eloquent tales of family ties that fray but don’t break the US debut of prizewinning Canadian author Thien, who draws occasionally on her family’s Asian background but is first and foremost a perceptive, observant child of Vancouver.
In the title story, a Malaysian immigrant father’s supportive love for his daughter contrasts with his frightening violence toward his son. The daughter’s question to herself—“How to reconcile all that I know of him and still love him?”—resonates throughout the collection. The young wife of “Dispatch” stays in her marriage though she’s learned that her husband—now devastated by grief—would have left her if the other woman he loved hadn’t turned him down. The narrator of “A Map of the City” evokes her father’s shabby used-furniture store, Bargain Mart, and describes the way it once filled her with expectation and pride. She has already become aloof from her father by the time he ends up alone and on welfare, but her remoteness, now extending to her own marriage, must yield to greater generosity and love. Thien mostly offers retrospective narratives of girl children estranged from their parents through divorce, alcoholism, and disappointment. The accounts are rich in detail, with memory serving to acknowledge complexity and to preserve what would otherwise be lost. The narrator of “Four Days from Oregon” recalls her mother’s unhappy marriage, how Tom—her mother’s lover—first entered their lives, and how she used a badminton birdie to hint of the affair to her father. In “House,” two sisters now in foster care sit in front of the house where they used to live to mark their alcoholic mother’s birthday—the one day each year she stayed sober—hoping she’ll reappear.
Truthful and suffused with quiet ache: a welcome collection, with the Asian background presented without exoticism, as a matter-of-fact part of North American life.Pub Date: June 6, 2002
ISBN: 0-316-83316-9
Page Count: 230
Publisher: Little, Brown
Review Posted Online: May 19, 2010
Kirkus Reviews Issue: April 1, 2002
BOOK REVIEW
BOOK REVIEW
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
This book sings with the terrible silence of dead civilizations in which once there was valor.
Written with quiet dignity that builds to a climax of tragic force, this book about the dissolution of an African tribe, its traditions, and values, represents a welcome departure from the familiar "Me, white brother" genre.
Written by a Nigerian African trained in missionary schools, this novel tells quietly the story of a brave man, Okonkwo, whose life has absolute validity in terms of his culture, and who exercises his prerogative as a warrior, father, and husband with unflinching single mindedness. But into the complex Nigerian village filters the teachings of strangers, teachings so alien to the tribe, that resistance is impossible. One must distinguish a force to be able to oppose it, and to most, the talk of Christian salvation is no more than the babbling of incoherent children. Still, with his guns and persistence, the white man, amoeba-like, gradually absorbs the native culture and in despair, Okonkwo, unable to withstand the corrosion of what he, alone, understands to be the life force of his people, hangs himself. In the formlessness of the dying culture, it is the missionary who takes note of the event, reminding himself to give Okonkwo's gesture a line or two in his work, The Pacification of the Primitive Tribes of the Lower Niger.
This book sings with the terrible silence of dead civilizations in which once there was valor.Pub Date: Jan. 23, 1958
ISBN: 0385474547
Page Count: 207
Publisher: McDowell, Obolensky
Review Posted Online: April 23, 2013
Kirkus Reviews Issue: Jan. 1, 1958
BOOK REVIEW
BOOK REVIEW
BOOK REVIEW
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