essential spark goes out in the shift from comic to tragic.
Inside the head of yet another overheated, middle-aged Englishman in Italy (as in Europa, 1998): in his tenth novel the
effortlessly inventive Parks ratchets up the tragedy and tones down the laughs for a portrait of a man plunged into despair by a schizophrenic son's suicide. A respected journalist who, seeking deeper meaning, turned from coverage of Italy's endless political intrigues to a book-length treatment of “national character,” Chris Burton is in London with his wife, Mara, when he receives the phone call reporting the death of their only son, Marco. His first thought, the most abiding one in the fog of days to follow, is that his 30-year marriage is over. Mara is larger than life, theatrically Italian, a downtrodden Roman aristocrat and a shameless flirt who for years has charmed and overpowered him and everyone else she encounters—as she demonstrates at Heathrow by a performance that gains them seats on the first available plane home. Burton can’t bring himself to tell her they're through, not even when they visit the morgue and she refuses to let him see Marco with her. Instead, grief takes them on separate trajectories, as Burton goes to stay with their adopted daughter, estranged from Mara, and discovers he's seriously ill, while his wife takes over the funeral arrangements and has Marco shipped from Turin to Rome. Meanwhile, Burton proceeds with his plan to interview disgraced former Italian prime minister Andreotti, the capstone of research for his book, while his physical condition deteriorates. Only after Marco is buried does Burton see his spouse again. Following a volatile exchange in the cemetery, he realizes their tragedy is shared and that they have somehow, impossibly, arrived at a new understanding. The male stream of consciousness is rendered no less skillfully and intricately here than in Parks's previous novel, but some
essential spark goes out in the shift from comic to tragic.Pub Date: April 1, 2000
ISBN: 1-55970-517-5
Page Count: 256
Publisher: Arcade
Review Posted Online: May 19, 2010
Kirkus Reviews Issue: March 1, 2000
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
Jonathan Livingston Kitty, it’s not.
A lonely postman learns that he’s about to die—and reflects on life as he bargains with a Hawaiian-shirt–wearing devil.
The 30-year-old first-person narrator in filmmaker/novelist Kawamura’s slim novel is, by his own admission, “boring…a monotone guy,” so unimaginative that, when he learns he has a brain tumor, the bucket list he writes down is dull enough that “even the cat looked disgusted with me.” Luckily—or maybe not—a friendly devil, dubbed Aloha, pops onto the scene, and he’s willing to make a deal: an extra day of life in exchange for being allowed to remove something pleasant from the world. The first thing excised is phones, which goes well enough. (The narrator is pleasantly surprised to find that “people seemed to have no problem finding something to fill up their free time.”) But deals with the devil do have a way of getting complicated. This leads to shallow musings (“Sometimes, when you rewatch a film after not having seen it for a long time, it makes a totally different impression on you than it did the first time you saw it. Of course, the movie hasn’t changed; it’s you who’s changed") written in prose so awkward, it’s possibly satire (“Tears dripped down onto the letter like warm, salty drops of rain”). Even the postman’s beloved cat, who gains the power of speech, ends up being prim and annoying. The narrator ponders feelings about a lost love, his late mother, and his estranged father in a way that some readers might find moving at times. But for many, whatever made this book a bestseller in Japan is going to be lost in translation.
Jonathan Livingston Kitty, it’s not.Pub Date: March 12, 2019
ISBN: 978-1-250-29405-0
Page Count: 176
Publisher: Flatiron Books
Review Posted Online: Feb. 16, 2019
Kirkus Reviews Issue: March 1, 2019
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