Hansen’s novel isn’t a prefeminist commentary, but his awareness of 1920s gender roles gives this familiar story additional...
Acclaimed author Hansen (Exiles, 2008, etc.) revisits the Jazz Age murder plot that inspired James M. Cain’s Double Indemnity.
Why take on a story that’s already been the source for a classic crime novel and film? Partly to move beyond the restrictions of genre fiction: Instead of ventriloquizing noir tropes, Hansen explores the slow path to dissolution that begins with doomed love, as well as the sexism that corseted women faced in the 1920s. The novel fictionalizes the lives of Judd Gray, a lingerie salesman, and Ruth Snyder, the wife of an art director at a Manhattan magazine, who both feel restricted in their marriages (though Hansen deliberately fogs just how abusive Snyder’s husband is). After meeting through a mutual acquaintance, the two pursue an intense affair that lasts more than a year. Their trysts speak to Hansen’s second alteration to the story: His sexual candor gives the book an eroticism and intensity that would have been unthinkable in Cain’s 1943 novel, Double Indemnity, or its film version. The sensual appeal of the affair wears off quickly, though, as Judd slips deeper into alcoholism and Snyder so despairs of her marriage that she begins to consider how her husband might be killed. Hansen brilliantly characterizes the denial and moral degradation that overtake Judd and Snyder, largely through a passive voice; the two don’t do things so much as have things done to them. Yet Hansen never makes them unsympathetic, a feat that’s particularly impressive after they have been arrested for their roles in the death of Snyder’s husband. Describing the Judd-Snyder trial and accompanying media circus, Hansen occasionally lapses into passages of flat-footed journalistic reportage, yet even the dry style serves a purpose: It brings into sharp relief the lurid and sexist coverage of the trial (which made Snyder into a predatory nymphomaniac who snared the hapless Gray), and questions how much Snyder was a victim of her times.
Hansen’s novel isn’t a prefeminist commentary, but his awareness of 1920s gender roles gives this familiar story additional power.Pub Date: June 1, 2011
ISBN: 978-1-4516-1755-9
Page Count: 272
Publisher: Scribner
Review Posted Online: April 5, 2011
Kirkus Reviews Issue: March 15, 2011
Miller makes Homer pertinent to women facing 21st-century monsters.
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
PROFILES
The story's very ambiguity steadily feeds its mysteriousness and power, and Danielewski's mastery of postmodernist and...
An amazingly intricate and ambitious first novel - ten years in the making - that puts an engrossing new spin on the traditional haunted-house tale.
Texts within texts, preceded by intriguing introductory material and followed by 150 pages of appendices and related "documents" and photographs, tell the story of a mysterious old house in a Virginia suburb inhabited by esteemed photographer-filmmaker Will Navidson, his companion Karen Green (an ex-fashion model), and their young children Daisy and Chad. The record of their experiences therein is preserved in Will's film The Davidson Record - which is the subject of an unpublished manuscript left behind by a (possibly insane) old man, Frank Zampano - which falls into the possession of Johnny Truant, a drifter who has survived an abusive childhood and the perverse possessiveness of his mad mother (who is institutionalized). As Johnny reads Zampano's manuscript, he adds his own (autobiographical) annotations to the scholarly ones that already adorn and clutter the text (a trick perhaps influenced by David Foster Wallace's Infinite Jest) - and begins experiencing panic attacks and episodes of disorientation that echo with ominous precision the content of Davidson's film (their house's interior proves, "impossibly," to be larger than its exterior; previously unnoticed doors and corridors extend inward inexplicably, and swallow up or traumatize all who dare to "explore" their recesses). Danielewski skillfully manipulates the reader's expectations and fears, employing ingeniously skewed typography, and throwing out hints that the house's apparent malevolence may be related to the history of the Jamestown colony, or to Davidson's Pulitzer Prize-winning photograph of a dying Vietnamese child stalked by a waiting vulture. Or, as "some critics [have suggested,] the house's mutations reflect the psychology of anyone who enters it."
The story's very ambiguity steadily feeds its mysteriousness and power, and Danielewski's mastery of postmodernist and cinema-derived rhetoric up the ante continuously, and stunningly. One of the most impressive excursions into the supernatural in many a year.Pub Date: March 6, 2000
ISBN: 0-375-70376-4
Page Count: 704
Publisher: Pantheon
Review Posted Online: May 19, 2010
Kirkus Reviews Issue: Feb. 1, 2000
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