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THE YEAR IS ’42

Bielski’s tone lends grace to her project, but, sans supporting detail, it seems an affectation that leaves the whole...

The currents of WWII alter the lives of a German officer and a Russian doctor, in a poignant but thin tale by Ukrainian author Bielski.

At the start of what often reads like the summary of a longer and, ideally, fuller work, German Wehrmacht officer Karl Bazinger arrives in Nazi-occupied Paris. Though some Parisians eye Bazinger warily, the situation in the city remains, initially at least, only subtly different from what it had been before the occupation, leaving Bazinger free to savor the city’s riches. Bazinger sports “carroty public hair” and “delicate skin,” as Bielski (Oranges for the Son of Alexander Levy, 1990, not reviewed) writes in one the few descriptive passages she provides. She concentrates primarily on a narrative structure that affects a suitably melancholy tone and moves freely and in a dreamlike way among its characters and incidents. Warned by superiors that he speaks too freely—that is, critically—about the war, Bazinger becomes curious about the activities of Hans Bielenberg, a visitor from Germany. Eventually, Bazinger’s suspicions are confirmed: Bielenberg has been part of a resistance group working against the Nazis. In the second half, the story moves to Kiev, introduces Katia Zvesdny, a doctor, then drifts into an extended segment about Katia’s father, a violinist, his wife, who deserts him, and his subsequent relationship with a singer. Meanwhile, Katia’s husband, declared an enemy of Russia for alleged sabotage, is sentenced to ten years in a camp in the north. Katia soldiers on, attempting to save Jews from the massacre at Baby Yar. One day Bazinger arrives to seek Katia’s medical help—scabs and pustules afflict his body. Almost miraculously, he forms “fragile new skin” as his sores flake off and he and Katia form a bond.

Bielski’s tone lends grace to her project, but, sans supporting detail, it seems an affectation that leaves the whole feeling rather pointless.

Pub Date: Dec. 1, 2004

ISBN: 0-375-42286-2

Page Count: 224

Publisher: Pantheon

Review Posted Online: May 19, 2010

Kirkus Reviews Issue: Sept. 15, 2004

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THE HANDMAID'S TALE

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

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IF CATS DISAPPEARED FROM THE WORLD

Jonathan Livingston Kitty, it’s not.

A lonely postman learns that he’s about to die—and reflects on life as he bargains with a Hawaiian-shirt–wearing devil.

The 30-year-old first-person narrator in filmmaker/novelist Kawamura’s slim novel is, by his own admission, “boring…a monotone guy,” so unimaginative that, when he learns he has a brain tumor, the bucket list he writes down is dull enough that “even the cat looked disgusted with me.” Luckily—or maybe not—a friendly devil, dubbed Aloha, pops onto the scene, and he’s willing to make a deal: an extra day of life in exchange for being allowed to remove something pleasant from the world. The first thing excised is phones, which goes well enough. (The narrator is pleasantly surprised to find that “people seemed to have no problem finding something to fill up their free time.”) But deals with the devil do have a way of getting complicated. This leads to shallow musings (“Sometimes, when you rewatch a film after not having seen it for a long time, it makes a totally different impression on you than it did the first time you saw it. Of course, the movie hasn’t changed; it’s you who’s changed") written in prose so awkward, it’s possibly satire (“Tears dripped down onto the letter like warm, salty drops of rain”). Even the postman’s beloved cat, who gains the power of speech, ends up being prim and annoying. The narrator ponders feelings about a lost love, his late mother, and his estranged father in a way that some readers might find moving at times. But for many, whatever made this book a bestseller in Japan is going to be lost in translation.

Jonathan Livingston Kitty, it’s not.

Pub Date: March 12, 2019

ISBN: 978-1-250-29405-0

Page Count: 176

Publisher: Flatiron Books

Review Posted Online: Feb. 16, 2019

Kirkus Reviews Issue: March 1, 2019

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