A fascinating look inside Ellison’s methods and concerns as a writer—and a great story as well.
The unfinished second novel from Invisible Man author Ellison, an edited version of which appeared in 1999 under the title Juneteenth.
Ellison was born in Oklahoma City in 1914, seven years before the so-called Tulsa Race War would erupt. He left as soon as he could. In 1953, after Invisible Man made him famous, he wrote to a friend about his plans to travel home: “I’ve got to get real mad again, and talk with the old folks a bit. I’ve gone one Okla. book in me I do believe.” Three Days is that book, and he spent the next 40 years working on it, never finishing—but along the way making a Rashomon of an apparently simple story line that deepens as it progresses. Editors Callahan and Bradley gather the vast manuscript that Ellison left, including his plans for the book and queries to himself: “What is the tragic mistake? And who makes it? As things stand we do begin before one tragic mistake, that of the Senator’s, when he refuses to see Hickman and company.” The Senator is a blustering bigot who, having taken his seat in the U.S. Senate, now impedes progressive legislation—but who has a quite explosive secret that involves a crusading African-American preacher whom the Senator’s suitably racist secretary refers to as “the nigra Hickman.” Hickman, parts King and parts Sharpton, is deft at sprinkling his specific here-and-now demands with citations from otherworldly authorities (“The Scriptures tell us that in life we are in death, and in death there is life”), but Senator and secretary take no heed. Alas, that’s a mistake. Ellison sets his figures walking down long but eventually convergent paths, and though he did not live to finish his book, what he left is filled with sharply realized visions of ordinary life—wonderful descriptions of such things as “cold lemonade with the cakes of ice in them sitting out under the cool of the trees”—and careful studies of people as they speak and as they are, both tragic and comic.
A fascinating look inside Ellison’s methods and concerns as a writer—and a great story as well.Pub Date: Feb. 2, 2010
ISBN: 978-0-375-75953-6
Page Count: 1136
Publisher: Modern Library
Review Posted Online: May 19, 2010
Kirkus Reviews Issue: Dec. 1, 2009
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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