Quiet but powerful; fans of Modiano’s smoky, humid postwar world will enjoy this slowly unfolding mystery.
Modiano’s transitional novel, first published in 1981, that marked an end to literary experimentation in favor of his largely unadorned though deeply atmospheric style.
Modiano’s novel opens on an uncharacteristically idyllic note, although, as with his other work, it immediately turns in search of a moment of lost time. Odile and Louis are just about to turn 35, and now, as she gazes out at her children playing on the alpine lakefront lawn, Odile is feeling the pangs of fading youth. “Does life ever start over at thirty-five?” she wonders. “She had the feeling that the answer was No. You reach a zone of total calm and the pedal-boat glides all by itself across a lake like the one stretching out before her.” Rewind 15-odd years, to the end of the war, and Odile and Louis, still teenagers, are innocents caught up in a much different world and a much different demimonde. Fresh out of the army, Louis meets a shadowy fellow, Brossier, who wears a feather-festooned Tyrolean hat, perhaps not the best of disguises, and says he’s in the car business. Just what it is that he does isn’t ever quite clear, but he enlists Louis in the enterprise and fills his pockets with money, even as Odile is struggling to make it as a chanteuse in a world that still has Edith Piaf. Brossier has big plans for Louis, though always of a vague sort, and shifting duties: “Now, when I say ‘night watchman,’ ” he says of one job possibility, “in fact it’s more of a job as a…secretary….” Only gradually does Louis become uneasy about the ill-defined nature of his duties as compared to his large pay packet, but he's too much the naif to recognize what the knowing reader will—namely, that a postcard bearing Guy Burgess’ signature puts us into different territory altogether, lending Modiano’s matter-of-fact mood study a dangerous dimension.
Quiet but powerful; fans of Modiano’s smoky, humid postwar world will enjoy this slowly unfolding mystery.Pub Date: March 8, 2016
ISBN: 978-1-59017-955-0
Page Count: 176
Publisher: New York Review Books
Review Posted Online: Dec. 20, 2015
Kirkus Reviews Issue: Jan. 1, 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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