Next book

AVOIDANCE

Less heavy breathing than one might expect, though still a trifle overwrought.

Gay angst at summer camp in Lowenthal’s second (after The Same Embrace, 1998).

Jeremy Stull makes a habit of investigating strange worlds. From an ordinary suburban family in northeastern Maryland, he has drifted farther and farther from the Beltway, both geographically and psychologically. As a boy, he went to a summer camp called Ironwood in the wilds of Vermont. Later, he enrolled as a graduate student at Harvard and went to Lancaster, Pennsylvania, to study the Amish communities. Rootless and disconnected from his family, Jeremy admires the social cohesion of the Amish, who depend upon the fellowship of their congregations for protection from the larger world. The closest comparable sense of belonging Jeremy ever had was at Camp Ironwood, where he still spends his summers, but now as a counselor. This year, however, Ironwood isn’t quite the same. A strange boy in Jeremy’s group named Max has an air of mystery about him. A New Yorker, Max comes from a broken family and lives with his grandparents. He has that cheap sophistication that Jeremy associates with city kids, but there’s a vulnerable side to him—which becomes more pronounced when Jeremy discovers that much of Max’s history is a fiction (right down to his name). Long before Jeremy unravels Max’s secrets, it’s apparent he’s in love with the boy, but the ensuing trouble isn’t quite what you would expect. Jeremy discovers that another counselor is abusing the campers, using drugs as an inducement, and Max is implicated. The scandal is dealt with, and Max seems to take it in stride, but Jeremy—who never laid a finger on him—is shaken all the same. “Do you understand?” he asks Max. “I wanted to. I still do.” Sometimes, it seems, the fantasy can be as real (and as disturbing) as the deed.

Less heavy breathing than one might expect, though still a trifle overwrought.

Pub Date: Nov. 1, 2002

ISBN: 1-55597-367-1

Page Count: 272

Publisher: Graywolf

Review Posted Online: May 19, 2010

Kirkus Reviews Issue: Sept. 1, 2002

Categories:

Awards & Accolades

Likes

  • Readers Vote
  • 42


Our Verdict

  • Our Verdict
  • GET IT


  • Kirkus Reviews'
    Best Books Of 2018


  • New York Times Bestseller

Next book

CIRCE

Miller makes Homer pertinent to women facing 21st-century monsters.

Awards & Accolades

Likes

  • Readers Vote
  • 42


Our Verdict

  • Our Verdict
  • GET IT


  • Kirkus Reviews'
    Best Books Of 2018


  • New York Times Bestseller

A retelling of ancient Greek lore gives exhilarating voice to a witch.

“Monsters are a boon for gods. Imagine all the prayers.” So says Circe, a sly, petulant, and finally commanding voice that narrates the entirety of Miller’s dazzling second novel. The writer returns to Homer, the wellspring that led her to an Orange Prize for The Song of Achilles (2012). This time, she dips into The Odyssey for the legend of Circe, a nymph who turns Odysseus’ crew of men into pigs. The novel, with its distinctive feminist tang, starts with the sentence: “When I was born, the name for what I was did not exist.” Readers will relish following the puzzle of this unpromising daughter of the sun god Helios and his wife, Perse, who had negligible use for their child. It takes banishment to the island Aeaea for Circe to sense her calling as a sorceress: “I will not be like a bird bred in a cage, I thought, too dull to fly even when the door stands open. I stepped into those woods and my life began.” This lonely, scorned figure learns herbs and potions, surrounds herself with lions, and, in a heart-stopping chapter, outwits the monster Scylla to propel Daedalus and his boat to safety. She makes lovers of Hermes and then two mortal men. She midwifes the birth of the Minotaur on Crete and performs her own C-section. And as she grows in power, she muses that “not even Odysseus could talk his way past [her] witchcraft. He had talked his way past the witch instead.” Circe’s fascination with mortals becomes the book’s marrow and delivers its thrilling ending. All the while, the supernatural sits intriguingly alongside “the tonic of ordinary things.” A few passages coil toward melodrama, and one inelegant line after a rape seems jarringly modern, but the spell holds fast. Expect Miller’s readership to mushroom like one of Circe’s spells.

Miller makes Homer pertinent to women facing 21st-century monsters.

Pub Date: April 10, 2018

ISBN: 978-0-316-55634-7

Page Count: 400

Publisher: Little, Brown

Review Posted Online: Jan. 22, 2018

Kirkus Reviews Issue: Feb. 1, 2018

Next book

NEVER LET ME GO

A masterpiece of craftsmanship that offers an unparalleled emotional experience. Send a copy to the Swedish Academy.

An ambitious scientific experiment wreaks horrendous toll in the Booker-winning British author’s disturbingly eloquent sixth novel (after When We Were Orphans, 2000).

Ishiguro’s narrator, identified only as Kath(y) H., speaks to us as a 31-year-old social worker of sorts, who’s completing her tenure as a “carer,” prior to becoming herself one of the “donors” whom she visits at various “recovery centers.” The setting is “England, late 1990s”—more than two decades after Kath was raised at a rural private school (Hailsham) whose students, all children of unspecified parentage, were sheltered, encouraged to develop their intellectual and especially artistic capabilities, and groomed to become donors. Visions of Brave New World and 1984 arise as Kath recalls in gradually and increasingly harrowing detail her friendships with fellow students Ruth and Tommy (the latter a sweet, though distractible boy prone to irrational temper tantrums), their “graduation” from Hailsham and years of comparative independence at a remote halfway house (the Cottages), the painful outcome of Ruth’s breakup with Tommy (whom Kath also loves), and the discovery the adult Kath and Tommy make when (while seeking a “deferral” from carer or donor status) they seek out Hailsham’s chastened “guardians” and receive confirmation of the limits long since placed on them. With perfect pacing and infinite subtlety, Ishiguro reveals exactly as much as we need to know about how efforts to regulate the future through genetic engineering create, control, then emotionlessly destroy very real, very human lives—without ever showing us the faces of the culpable, who have “tried to convince themselves. . . . That you were less than human, so it didn’t matter.” That this stunningly brilliant fiction echoes Caryl Churchill’s superb play A Number and Margaret Atwood’s celebrated dystopian novels in no way diminishes its originality and power.

A masterpiece of craftsmanship that offers an unparalleled emotional experience. Send a copy to the Swedish Academy.

Pub Date: April 11, 2005

ISBN: 1-4000-4339-5

Page Count: 304

Publisher: Knopf

Review Posted Online: May 19, 2010

Kirkus Reviews Issue: Jan. 1, 2005

Categories:
Close Quickview