A deliciously creepy and intense story.
Strong (Burning the Sea, 2002) presents a disturbing and erotic narrative about the lives of an oddly matched married couple who host a teenage girl for the summer.
Ray Shepard is a prominent architect who marries Evelyn, a former circus employee/manicurist with a dark past, after he meets her while both attend a show under the big top. Evelyn’s arms and torso are heavily tattooed, and she keeps her skin hidden from Ray’s colleagues and friends; but Ray is sexually aroused by the images and colors beneath her long sleeves and buttoned-up collars. Evelyn knows she doesn’t fit into Ray’s privileged world and believes that his peers are more judgmental than her naïve husband realizes. Her clumsy attempts to adapt end in failure and resentment on her part, but Ray innocently believes that once his colleagues and friends get to know his wife, they’ll understand exactly why he married her. Enter Ingrid, a rebellious teenager who’s been suspended from a nearby boarding school for the summer after being caught with alcohol. Unconventional and emotionally isolated, she’s drawn to the flawed couple and becomes a pivotal participant in their dysfunctional world. Ingrid and Ray set up office in a room once called the fainting room, and she types for him while he works on a book about architecture. They soon discover common ground—a passion for hard-boiled detective stories—and Ingrid begins to construct her own fictional character, Detective Slade, a tough, observant character who comes to life as she tries to cope with her own uncertainties. Ray is disturbed by his increasing sexual attraction to Ingrid, and Ingrid’s titillated by her feelings for Evelyn. An increasingly murky and uncomfortable tale, Strong’s characters are complex and disturbing. Evelyn’s past attempts to fit in with her circus family are as darkly amusing as her attempts to be the perfect homemaker. Ray’s conventional upbringing, and his one early attempt at outright rebellion, contrasts well with Ingrid’s character, so full of feelings of alienation and anger.
A deliciously creepy and intense story.Pub Date: May 14, 2013
ISBN: 978-1935439-76-9
Page Count: 264
Publisher: Ig Publishing
Review Posted Online: March 2, 2013
Kirkus Reviews Issue: March 15, 2013
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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