by Simon Lane ‧ RELEASE DATE: April 1, 1998
A sly, sexy, fable-like exploration of the wavering line between art and commerce, following a writer as he tries to work himself out of poverty by cranking out pornography. Fear, a gifted, spendthrift, outrageous poet and novelist, given to drinking bouts and fleeting affairs, is living in Paris and down on his luck when his exasperated (and alluring) bank manager, Madame JaffrÇ, suggests that he produce something “commercial. . . erotic perhaps,” to bail himself out of his considerable debt. It’s not only the bank that he owes: There’s also Harm, a thug waiting with increasing impatience for the $10,000 Fear has borrowed and neglected to pay back. Worst of all, Fear feels numb, “as if his senses had been switched off.” In an attempt both to meet his debts and to climb back toward some sort of emotional sanity, Fear begins to write. He bases his novel on a girl from the neighborhood of Pigalle with whom he spent one remarkable night. She confided to him then that she was hopelessly in love with an airline pilot. Britisher Lane, the author of one previous novel published here, Still Life with Books (not reviewed), weaves long passages from Fear’s novel about the “Girl from Pigalle” and her pilot lover into his own present narrative. Fear’s book is, in fact, sweetly sexy, and his struggle to puzzle out how to write about sex allows Lane to muse over the difficulties of describing desire. Fear also discovers that, without his conscious knowledge, a book that began as a cynical means to generate money has taken on a life of its own, becoming, by virtue of its honesty and fascination with character, a work of art. As much about the peculiar alchemy of art and the similarities between art and desire as it is about a hapless character, Lane’s slender meditation is penetrating, witty, and provocative. A deft, winning performance.
Pub Date: April 1, 1998
ISBN: 1-882593-22-7
Page Count: 184
Publisher: Bridge Works
Review Posted Online: May 19, 2010
Kirkus Reviews Issue: Feb. 15, 1998
Share your opinion of this book
by Margaret Atwood ‧ RELEASE DATE: Feb. 17, 1985
Tinny perhaps, but still a minutely rendered and impressively steady feminist vision of apocalypse.
Awards & Accolades
Likes
16
Google Rating
New York Times Bestseller
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
Share your opinion of this book
More by Margaret Atwood
BOOK REVIEW
BOOK REVIEW
edited by Margaret Atwood & Douglas Preston
BOOK REVIEW
More About This Book
SEEN & HEARD
BOOK TO SCREEN
by Colson Whitehead ‧ RELEASE DATE: July 16, 2019
Inspired by disclosures of a real-life Florida reform school’s long-standing corruption and abusive practices, Whitehead’s...
Awards & Accolades
Likes
19
Our Verdict
GET IT
Kirkus Reviews'
Best Books Of 2019
Kirkus Prize
winner
New York Times Bestseller
IndieBound Bestseller
Pulitzer Prize Winner
National Book Critics Circle Finalist
The acclaimed author of The Underground Railroad (2016) follows up with a leaner, meaner saga of Deep South captivity set in the mid-20th century and fraught with horrors more chilling for being based on true-life atrocities.
Elwood Curtis is a law-abiding, teenage paragon of rectitude, an avid reader of encyclopedias and after-school worker diligently overcoming hardships that come from being abandoned by his parents and growing up black and poor in segregated Tallahassee, Florida. It’s the early 1960s, and Elwood can feel changes coming every time he listens to an LP of his hero Martin Luther King Jr. sermonizing about breaking down racial barriers. But while hitchhiking to his first day of classes at a nearby black college, Elwood accepts a ride in what turns out to be a stolen car and is sentenced to the Nickel Academy, a juvenile reformatory that looks somewhat like the campus he’d almost attended but turns out to be a monstrously racist institution whose students, white and black alike, are brutally beaten, sexually abused, and used by the school’s two-faced officials to steal food and supplies. At first, Elwood thinks he can work his way past the arbitrary punishments and sadistic treatment (“I am stuck here, but I’ll make the best of it…and I’ll make it brief”). He befriends another black inmate, a street-wise kid he knows only as Turner, who has a different take on withstanding Nickel: “The key to in here is the same as surviving out there—you got to see how people act, and then you got to figure out how to get around them like an obstacle course.” And if you defy them, Turner warns, you’ll get taken “out back” and are never seen or heard from again. Both Elwood’s idealism and Turner’s cynicism entwine into an alliance that compels drastic action—and a shared destiny. There's something a tad more melodramatic in this book's conception (and resolution) than one expects from Whitehead, giving it a drugstore-paperback glossiness that enhances its blunt-edged impact.
Inspired by disclosures of a real-life Florida reform school’s long-standing corruption and abusive practices, Whitehead’s novel displays its author’s facility with violent imagery and his skill at weaving narrative strands into an ingenious if disquieting whole.Pub Date: July 16, 2019
ISBN: 978-0-385-53707-0
Page Count: 224
Publisher: Doubleday
Review Posted Online: Jan. 20, 2019
Kirkus Reviews Issue: Feb. 1, 2019
Share your opinion of this book
More by Colson Whitehead
BOOK REVIEW
BOOK REVIEW
BOOK REVIEW
More About This Book
PERSPECTIVES
SEEN & HEARD
SEEN & HEARD
© Copyright 2025 Kirkus Media LLC. All Rights Reserved.
Hey there, book lover.
We’re glad you found a book that interests you!
We can’t wait for you to join Kirkus!
It’s free and takes less than 10 seconds!
Already have an account? Log in.
OR
Trouble signing in? Retrieve credentials.
Welcome Back!
OR
Trouble signing in? Retrieve credentials.
Don’t fret. We’ll find you.