An ambitious first outing, but Schuyler has bitten off more than she can chew.
History scars hapless individuals in 19th-century France and Japan.
A big year, 1870. In Japan, the opening to the West has begun, Buddhist temples are being closed or destroyed, and Shintoism is being installed as the national religion, while in France the Prussian army is closing in on Paris. East and West are yoked uncomfortably together in alternating sections, their one tenuous connection being a painting. In a town near Tokyo, Hayashi exports his own pottery to Europe. His childhood ended when a fire wiped out his family (his father had been plotting against the feudal regime), and now he lives unhappily with his wife, Ayoshi, knowing nothing of her background, her passionate love for an Ainu (Untouchable), or her abortion, arranged by her father, just like her marriage. Ayoshi mopes, preserving the Ainu in her paintings, one of which will find its way to Paris. The couple’s household will be enlivened by the arrival of a monk. His monastery has been destroyed, and he will behave most unmonkishly, exchanging kisses with Ayoshi and, jealous already, ripping up an erotic painting. In Paris, we focus on Jorgen, a young Danish soldier fighting for the French to atone for impregnating and abandoning his Danish sweetheart. No, it doesn’t quite compute, but then nothing Jorgen does makes sense. He trips over his rifle and has to have his leg amputated: no more soldiering. He goes to work for a Parisian importer, where he steals Ayoshi’s painting. He falls for his employer’s sister, the goodhearted Natalia, but realizes he needs her only after encouraging her to enlist. He recognizes the talismanic power of the painting (the universal language of art) but sells it anyway, then desperately tries to buy it back. In a go-for-broke ending, Schuyler sends him aloft in a balloon, while, in Japan, Ayoshi burns her paintings and ships out to San Francisco.
An ambitious first outing, but Schuyler has bitten off more than she can chew.Pub Date: Oct. 22, 2004
ISBN: 1-56512-441-3
Page Count: 320
Publisher: Algonquin
Review Posted Online: May 19, 2010
Kirkus Reviews Issue: Aug. 15, 2004
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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