Update: Booker Prize Winner 2017, a well deserved win for this excellent novel!
I came upon Lincoln in the Bardo as someone comes upon a house on fireUpdate: Booker Prize Winner 2017, a well deserved win for this excellent novel!
I came upon Lincoln in the Bardo as someone comes upon a house on fire—tentatively. Placing a hand to the embossed dust jacket and turning deckle-edged pages at random filled me with the sphincter-tightening dread, which I have previously equated to looking down at the earth from a significant height. It seemed as if the book were more screenplay than proper novel, and I had no interest in dawdling amidst incomprehensible and unintelligible style. Yet, I decided to persevere in order to expand my horizons and develop— matthew
Awww, cut the shit, will ya? We all know ya did nothin’ but listen to the audiobook because you, how did he put it? mr.mcdowell
“I am unable to bear the difficulties of reading a postmodern work during my studies.” mr. quann
Yeah, what’s Mr. Quann said. mr.mcdowell
Gentlemen, that is quite enough. Especially from two who so enjoyed the listening experience! matthew
We got no problem with the book, we just got issue with you trying to play it off like you read the goddamned thing. mr.mcdowell
I agree that misrepresentation of your consumption of the novel would lead others astray. Though there has been some data to suggest that reading and listening to an audiobook provide the same experience and value. mr. quann
While I might concede that the quotidian audiobook adaptation might provide the same benefits as that of the paper copy, Lincoln in the Bardo is no such commonplace aural production. matthew
Indeed, Matthew brings up a salient point. This is not what you would expect from most audiobooks. mr. quann
Enough with the goddamned ten-dollar bullshit words. The people don’t want to read no review of a book that makes them pick up another goddamned book to figure out what’s being said. Let me tell it to you like it is. mr. mcdowell
By all means. mr. quann
And so it begins again. matthew
Ya see, there’s a lot of goddamned people in this book. All ghosts, or mostly, it’s pretty goddamned confusing from the get-go and I suggested getting the hell outta the way of something so shitting confusing, grabbing a couple beers and sitting back to some goddamned television. But no, no, these chumps wanted to keep on listening having no idea what’s what for the first hour. This isn’t what it’s like with goddamned television. Nothing like the television to get you one man kicking another man, or punching another in the teeth, occasionally a bit of nudity— mr. mcdowell
To the point, sir. matthew
Alright, alright. Not a drop a patience to spare between the two of ya. So, there’s a lot of voices here. 166 different goddamned voices, and each one of them gets to say a little something. They do a good job too, these voices. I’ll give ‘em that much. mr. mcdowell
What Mr. McDowell is trying to convey is that the diverse and star-studded cast does a very stunning performance of a book filled with emotional range. mr. quann
Precisely. And should I tell 'em about the tower? mr. mcdowell
If you’ll, perhaps, permit me? matthew
Yeah, yeah. mr. mcdowell
Coming into the world the esteemed Mr. Saunders has crafted is indeed disorienting, but can one truly expect anything other than disorientation from the period after death? The flurry of voices, each telling their own tale of misery, woe, regret, desperation, joy, and so forth can make for confusion. But then, as we listened, the voices began to, well matthew
Began to coalesce at the same time as they began to differentiate. mr. quann
And right there in shitting front of me. mr. mcdowell
Formed in our minds’ eye. mr. quann
Stood a tower of mouths arrayed beside and stacked on top of one another like bricks, each one speaking in turn and matthew
Having some good goddamned conversation. mr. mcdowell
It’s surreal structure reflecting the peculiar, surreal imagery of Lincoln in the Bardo. A tower that might stand alongside Mr. Vollman’s perpetually engorged appendage and be known to have come from the same place. mr. quann
These voices forming a cacophony that drew me away from life’s daily trials during my sojourns to and from my work in the hospital. Forming— matthew
Forming a goddamned great novel. mr. mcdowell
Forming a tale of such impressive structure, wonder, surprising humour, and depth of emotion that it’s very description defies the abilities of this humble trio. mr. quann
I hope you will permit me the suggestion that it is the finest audiobook that I have ever had the pleasure of hearing. Indeed, I would go so far as to say that it would be a distinct pleasure to be able to listen to the esteemed Mr. Saunders’ writing again. Or, perhaps— matthew
Or perhaps read the goddamned thing instead of listening to the goddamned thing? mr.mcdowell
Though I doubt he’d put it in such words, I can’t help but think that is what he means. mr. quann
Yes, that’s quite right, and your clarification of Mr. McDowell’s most crude nature is appreciated by myself and, no doubt, the audience. matthew
It is both a pleasure and my duty. mr. quann
Indeed, I could easily see myself reading the novel if only to experience it in another form. matthew
Alright, enough of all this, it’s time to bring this goddamned experiment to it’s righteous goddamned end. mr.mcdowell
But Mr. McDowell! We haven’t even begun to discuss the characters, the resonance of the tale with the modern era, the universality of its themes, the diversity of experience represented within— matthew
the civil war as backdrop, the imaginative and playful imagery, the stunning writing, the inclusion of historical documents, the fantastical coexisting with the real and—indeed— how the real and the fantastical serve to elevate one another and mr. quann
and we have not even begun to discuss the story or the inclusion of Willie Lincoln or— matthew
None of that shit matters. What, you want to spoil the whole thing for them? You want their goddamned experience just so yous can talk about it? Ain't it enough just to say that it's good? mr. mcdowell
Mr. Quann’s suggestions, though coarse, are perhaps true. matthew
Indeed Matthew, I think it best if we leave it to the listeners and readers to decide what to make of the book. We can invite discussion. mr. quann
We have certainly enjoyed enough discussion of our own that I would not be surprised to find others enjoying the same. I think Mr. McDowell is correct in that we should leave the discovery of the book to the readers themselves. matthew
Goddamned right. mr. mcdowell
**A note to readers who have not read this novel: this review apes the conversational/oral history style of Lincoln in the Bardo....more
The English Patient, which I finished off last night, has me thinking about how I review books. In one sense, The English Patient made a pretty signifThe English Patient, which I finished off last night, has me thinking about how I review books. In one sense, The English Patient made a pretty significant impact on me with rich imagery, strong writing style, and thematically dense storytelling. By contrast, there were many moments where I wanted to give up on the book for its incessantly floral, almost poetic writing, and the constant references to a text with which I was wholly unfamiliar. The ending, I thought, was very good and helped me view what had come before in a new light, but did that make up for the pages that felt as if they took minutes to read?
To the point: how does one reconcile such conflicting feelings about a book like The English Patient?
For many Goodreadians—I make this statement with no intended disrespect—the starred-review is all that matters. But then I get to thinking about how to score a novel that I enjoyed in parts, didn’t in others, but was glad to read on the whole. Normally, I’d settle in—as I have here—with a comfortable three stars. Middle of the road. More good than bad.
But that arbitrary rating doesn’t capture how, when Caravaggio is first introduced, Ondaatje conjures up a scene that has embedded itself into my memory. The headlights of the car that swing to illuminate the intrepid thief, then the couple in flagrante, feels like the way light moves in the real world. To discount that, or when Ondaatje masterfully plays with light later on in the book, seems to be a travesty to literature itself. That’s not even touching on the way in which Ondaatje can make a foreign world one that feels familiar, as if the reader themselves has travelled the lands about which he writes.
Then again, I can’t ignore a mid-book dalliance into Cairo that was near nonsensical to me on my first read-through. In fact, I turned to the internet to confirm I was understanding what Ondaatje was trying to relay. I was picking up what he is putting down, but it was intentionally confusing. I suppose it might make sense on a second go-around, and there’s a lot of value in a book that isn’t entirely comprehensible on first pass.
Also, where do I factor in the business of my professional life? On a rotation where moments with a book are stolen before sleep snatches me up, I was often left feeling lukewarm. Though, it is hard to lay blame for the way in which I read the book at the feet of the author. Some books are meant to be savored, read slowly in long sessions so that its message diffuses better through the mind.
For a book that I almost gave up, and one that necessitated a break with something lighter, I think I’m better for having read The English Patient. Even though I’ve come down somewhere in the middle, I know this book is one that’ll stick with me for weeks and months to come. In fact, it isn’t the first book I’ve read like that this year.
I may not have a strong grip on all the nuance of The English Patient, but I like a book that isn’t always easy, and one that almost demands a second reading somewhere down the line. I also am getting more comfortable not having the full sense of a book when I get to the review. There's still a lot of value in the impression a book makes on its first pass.
What I can say is this: sometimes The English Patient is great, sometimes its boring, sometimes it feels pretentious, sometimes it has astonishing writing, and most of the time I felt accomplished for having read it.
PS- I picked up Warlight by Ondaatje after finding it cheap the day the 2018 Booker long list was announced. So, stay tuned for my further thoughts on Ondaatje and check out my first encounter with his writing....more
Sometimes I feel like I'm reading books for cocktail parties that are never going to happen. I'll pick a book off the shelf as conversational ammunitiSometimes I feel like I'm reading books for cocktail parties that are never going to happen. I'll pick a book off the shelf as conversational ammunition for an exchange featuring a tally of "important" works read. Of course, this exchange never happens and I find myself subjected to the mild tedium of a book that just doesn't work for me. Wolf Hall is the exception in that real, live, homo sapiens pointed at it on my bookshelf to ask if I had read it.
But, you know, Wolf Hall is the type of book that people buy because of the Booker Prize banner and let it age like a fine wine upon their shelves. I'm no exception and was happy to let it gather dust and be a shallow topic of conversation rather than one of any depth. Now that I've spent over a month working my way through Hilary Mantel's divisive book, I'd be more than happy to find a fellow reader at any party.
Because, man, there's a whole lot to talk about.
I hit this book like it was a school project. I carried it with me everywhere! I'd plan to go to a coffee shop just so I could commit a few hours to tackling the beast. I was asking people at parties if they'd read it just to see if they'd felt the same. When I wasn't reading it, it stared me down from coffee tables, night stands, and surfaces both flat or otherwise inclined.
The bad stuff first: it can be HELLA confusing. I don't mean this in an in media res or it'll-all-make-sense-in-the-end kind of way, but in the you-gotta-hit-wikipedia and Jesus-Christ-the-family-tree kind of way. The first thing I was warned about: Mantel uses "he" to denote her hero Thomas Cromwell as well as anyone who is speaking. I thought it wouldn't be that much of a problem, but when the cast started to expand, the dialogue became a slippery serpentine knot. This ironed itself out in my mind and I kind of got used to "going with it" and settling for broad strokes rather than entire comprehension. It also works as a neat device to get into the head of Cromwell.
Ah, Cromwell. I mean, whether or not the book was going to be something I loved or hated, Cromwell was going to stick around in my brain. The man is presented as an almost infallible strategist and I would be taxed to imagine a problem to which he is not equal. Cromwell is complex, calculating, and has a highly enlightened, almost-modern view of the world around him. He holds no illusions about the sins which he commits in the name of his advancement, but he is rarely plagued by them (barring, perhaps, the end of the book). Despite the questionable ethics of his whole business, it's hard not to be taken by Cromwell's rise to power (think early seasons House of Cards). Though the book is about a lot of other things, its effective portrayal of Cromwell's psyche is what takes centre stage.
It is through Cromwell's calculating mind that the complexities of Tudor politics are delivered to the reader. Barring a rhyme that I can never remember, I knew little of Henry VIII aside from his separation from the church in Rome and his savage handling of his many wives. This book would not be my recommendation for an introduction to Tudor history. There's, like, 45 Thomases, half as many Annes and Marys, and everyone goes by three or four different titles. I can't count the times I had to flick back and forth to a confusing and rarely helpful genealogical graph and dramatis personae. Eventually, this struggle ended and I just tried my best to keep my head above water.
What is unassailable is Mantel's lavish writing and some of the most comprehensive, well-researched world-building I've come across. The goings-on of the world, the clothing, architecture, and manners of people all help to make you feel as if you are hanging with Cromwell's crew in the 1500s. Once I started to realize that the vegetables served were in accordance with the season I had to put the book down to imagine the intense labour Mantel had taken in order to bring this world to life with such accuracy. Mantel's actual writing is equal parts elegant and evocative of the harsh reality of the times. There were some sentences and bits of dialogue that I couldn't help but marvel at, even when I was most frustrated with the book.
I flip-flopped on this book so many times during my reading of Wolf Hall. I'd go from admiration to anger in a span of ten pages. All-too-often I felt as if I were trying to decipher who was speaking, what was going on, what was at stake instead of getting lost in the story. Indeed, Wolf Hall is certain to be the most challenging book I read this year and the most active reading experience I've had in quite some time. In the end, that's not a bad thing. I don't mind working a bit for my reward, and after an intermission with a few other books, I returned to the last 250 pages with a fervour.
Wolf Hall is a book that's earned a fair share of praise. I totally get that! Mantel's craft is really impressive and I saw the appeal of the book even when I became so confused that I wanted to pelt it into the Atlantic. I'm really glad I read the book, and you can rest assured that I'll be back to see the fall of Anne Boleyn in the sequel. Even though my review is fairly long, I still haven't touched on a lot of stuff worth discussing. But, as I said, I've got to save some of it for the eventual party....more
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