In this lyrical account of illness and nearly dying, moments of beauty are interspersed between longer sections of cryptic...
A coma inspired this renowned writer to reflect on his life, his work, and what it means to die.
Kaniuk, an Israeli artist and writer who died in 2013, was 74 when he developed a cancerous growth in his colon. The growth was removed, but Kaniuk spent four months in a coma and several months after that in a dreamlike trance, hovering between the two more definite states that have given his new book its title. In this “autobiographical novel” originally published in Israel in 2007, Kaniuk (1948, 2012, etc.) describes that experience: the confusion of the surgical theater, the recurring infections and other complications, the long-drawn-out recovery. More than all that, though, he focuses on the hallucinatory months when he drifted in and out of consciousness. As he says, “I felt like the monk who didn’t know if he dreamed he was a donkey or if he was the donkey who dreamed he was a monk.” He shifts from descriptions of memories to dreams to waking life, sometimes within the same sentence. By doing so, he undermines the standard assumption that only lucid consciousness can be comprehensible. “And why is it really so important to know if all that was true or not?” he writes. “If I think I saw, I saw.” In this way he links the experience to a lifetime’s habit of invention. “I would make up reality and I still do,” he writes. If his looping sentences sometimes make his precise meaning difficult to determine, it’s a forgivable quirk. Still, the book’s shapelessness becomes tiresome after a while. One longs for a moment of clean, clear lucidity. Instead, the narrative ravels outward.
In this lyrical account of illness and nearly dying, moments of beauty are interspersed between longer sections of cryptic obscurity.Pub Date: Sept. 13, 2016
ISBN: 9781632060921
Page Count: 208
Publisher: Restless Books
Review Posted Online: July 19, 2016
Kirkus Reviews Issue: Aug. 1, 2016
BOOK REVIEW
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
A modern day fable, with modern implications in a deceiving simplicity, by the author of Dickens. Dali and Others (Reynal & Hitchcock, p. 138), whose critical brilliance is well adapted to this type of satire. This tells of the revolt on a farm, against humans, when the pigs take over the intellectual superiority, training the horses, cows, sheep, etc., into acknowledging their greatness. The first hints come with the reading out of a pig who instigated the building of a windmill, so that the electric power would be theirs, the idea taken over by Napoleon who becomes topman with no maybes about it. Napoleon trains the young puppies to be his guards, dickers with humans, gradually instigates a reign of terror, and breaks the final commandment against any animal walking on two legs. The old faithful followers find themselves no better off for food and work than they were when man ruled them, learn their final disgrace when they see Napoleon and Squealer carousing with their enemies... A basic statement of the evils of dictatorship in that it not only corrupts the leaders, but deadens the intelligence and awareness of those led so that tyranny is inevitable. Mr. Orwell's animals exist in their own right, with a narrative as individual as it is apt in political parody.
Pub Date: Aug. 26, 1946
ISBN: 0452277507
Page Count: 114
Publisher: Harcourt, Brace
Review Posted Online: Nov. 2, 2011
Kirkus Reviews Issue: Aug. 1, 1946
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