Book Eight: Oroomoko, by Aphra Behn
Wow, is this an old book. 1688! This might be the oldest book I've ever forced myself to read, excluding everything I've translated from Latin and that one horrible time I was forced to read the Odyssey. This does make me a bit of a book ageist, I admit, but I have such trouble accessing the story when it's so cleverly hidden behind these stiff fortresses of language. In this book, all the nouns are capitalized. That being said, it was one of the better of the four books, because it was a simple story, short, and very engaging. Oroonoko, a great Prince in his native country, falls in love with the beautiful Imoinda. However, their happiness is soon disturbed by his elderly grandfather, who steals Imoinda away for himself. Various intrigues ensue, including a bedroom break-in and peddling of sexual favors, before both Oroonoko and Imoinda are tricked into slavery and are shipped to the New World.
This book was fascinating to me on several respects: One, it was written by a women. Just skimming THE LIST, I would venture a guess to say that less than 5% of the books overall were written by women. Maybe less. I don't know whether we can blame that on a historical patriarchy or just conclude that women didn't have enough time or education to complete great masterworks, but I did find it fascinating that a book this old and well-recieved could be written by a women, even in those decidedly unprogressive times. Secondly, the attitude towards religion is fascinating. Seventeenth century Europe was nice and progressive compared to the Middle Ages, sure, but if you weren't practicing some form of Christianity chances are life wouldn't end well for you. Not only does Behn assert that Oroonoko is perfectly moral, noble, and good without religion, but through him she attacks the Christian religion and God, saying that if men use His name to perpetuate such evil, he must not be a mighty god at all. Similarly, she speaks of not wanting to teach the natives of the New World Christianity, saying, "Religion wou'd here but destroy the Tranquility which possess," which I think at the time was about as radical as saying that she wanted to ride around everywhere on an ostrich. Yikes. This is not to say the woman was running around waving the Abolitionist flag - in fact, she repeatedly asserts the reason she likes Oroonoko is because of his European-like manners, his European-like appearance, and his European-like sense of duty and honor, which puts him above the rest of the slaves.
The story itself is pretty simple, but with the themes of racism, intolerance, honor and love driving it, the (quite graphic) ending does pack quite a punch. And although its message is still tainted by the attitudes of colonialism, it does remain one of the first books of its time to treat a non-Caucasian protagonist with such reverence.
In summary: A great glimpse into the past for those who like Romeo and Juliet, excessive talk about honor, and capitalized nouns.
Book Nine: Saturday, by Ian McEwan
Okay, so I was still totally buzzing around on my Atonement high (see slightly hysterical post a few down) and was expecting to be dazzled yet again by McEwan's prose. Which proved ironic, because my main problem with this book was the prose. The vast, vast amount of prose. This book takes place over a single Saturday in a prominent London neurosurgeon's life. He wakes up, sees a plane on fire, has sex with his wife, gets in a minor car crash, plays squash, goes fish shopping, sees his mother, and then meets up with his family for what proves to be a very dramatic dinner. This may seems like a lot of activity, but this book is 290 pages long. And that is all that happens. This is the kind of thing that can be summarized in a few pages in another novel. Here, the majority of the novel can be taken up by Henry thinking about things. Henry loves to think. He just thinks and thinks. At one point, directly after the car crash, Henry thinks about the accident and other things for seven entire pages before even beginning to consider getting out of his car. See, that kind of thing pisses me off in a novel. Atonement had flowery and often exhaustive prose, yes, but the multi-narrative story and the riveting plot drove the reader along. Here, there is no plot to speak of, only a vague sense of uneasiness that is hardly enough to help me plod through another fifteen pages of Henry brooding about his age or the war or his sex life. Also, although the plot was centered around a huge anti-war protest happening in London, I thought the musings on terrorism and Islamic fundamentalism were out of place in a story about the wealthy forty-something doctor living in London. I understood what McEwan was trying to do with it- convey the message that although we may feel safe in our insulated lives, violence lurks at every edge and can suddenly intrude without our consent. It's a theme that works and probably the best take-away from the book, but I thought Henry's excessive focus on the Islamic aspects of this fear were overkill, even with the Iraq war and 9/11 lurking in the background of the book. Unless McEwan meant to imply that we are being taught to fear the wrong things? If that's the case, I concede the point to him.
Okay, above rant aside, I did not hate this book. I was strongly, strongly temped to give up on it halfway when all the stuff above was overwhelming me, but since I had to finish it, I did, and the ending saved this book. I won't give too much away, but when Henry gets out of his head for five minutes and acts, the messages of the book come together wonderfully and I, at least, began to like him for the first time in the book. The finally surgery scene in particular was well done, and I think the book is worth it for that. Just plan on mucking through a lot of words to get there.
In summary: I spent 90% of the book hoping for the death of the main character so he would finally shut up, but in the end the book is an interesting look into the violence lurking at the edges of our comfortable world.
Book Ten: Timbuktu, by Paul Auster
Oh, man, I had high hopes for this book. Really I did. It was a book about a dog, and I am the world's biggest lover of dogs. It is no exaggeration to say that one of the best parts about being home for the holidays was getting tackled by my lovely mutt. On the other hand, I was worried about this book, because for some strange reason I am one of those people who can read about brain surgery and people getting pushed down stairs without a flinch (see above), but if a dog gets kicked in a novel I get all teary-eyed. This is such a problem that I still refuse to see I Am Legend because I heard (spoiler alert) that the dog dies. So I went into this book expecting a strong emotion either way and got....nothing, really.
This is a simple story. Dog has master, dog loves master, master dies, dog goes looking for new master. And Mr. Bones, the dog, really is a loveable character, and it is interesting that the book is told from his point of view. The real strength of this novel, I think, is the palpable feeling of love you can feel from Mr. Bones to his master. Everyone who's every owned a dog knows about the bond I'm talking about, and Auster paints it beautifully from a dog's perspective. But once the beloved master dies, the storyline dies with it. With only the vaguest sense of plot - Mr. Bone's search for a new home - the book plods along unevenly, with no great revelations or particularly dramatic moments, and then stops suddenly and with no preamble. When I put down the book, I wasn't content or lost in thought, like I usually am when I finish a good book. I was confused as to why I had just read the thing. If there was a point, I couldn't find it.
Not to discredit Mr. Auster, but there is a short story I love told from a dog's perspective by one of my favorite people in the world, Dave Eggers. It was shared to me by a friend and I think it succeeds in bringing us into the world of a dog much more eloquently than this novel does. It is brilliant and heartbreaking. Read it right now.
In summary: Yeah, I love dogs, and Mr. Bones loves his master, but what was the point?
Book Eleven: The Nun, Denis Diderot
At last, close to the end! This is a lot of writing, whew. Alright, The Nun. I was expecting this book to be boring as hell. In parts, it was. What I was not prepared for was the excellent dialogue, drama, and crazy illicit lesbian romance. Jesus, this must have been a controversial book in its day. The plot centers around Suzanne, a young girl coerced into joining a covenant because she is prettier and smarter than all of her sisters and is getting in the way of marrying them off because she is so much better in every way. Oh, and also because she's the illegitimate offspring of her mom's fling with some asshole, and this is her mom's way of "atoning". Go Mom. Once she's in there, she's forced to take the vows of a nun, which she very definitely does not want to be. Forced into the convent, she rebels and begins a long fight to leave, which causes the other nuns to starve her, throw broken glass on her, insinuate that she was raping the young converts, spit on her, and tell everyone she was the devil. For a book written in the 1750's, this is the equivalent of a soap opera.
For a book written by a man as a joke, this is a book that does deal quite deftly with the issue of a women's freedom - or rather, lack therof. From a modern standpoint, it's crazy that a girl's father could pay someone to lock her up in a nunnery, and despite years and years of protest and struggle, she still couldn't escape. This wasn't a house of God, it was a prison. This is also a really great study of group mentality and the absolutely batshit things people do when they've trapped in close quarters with nothing to do but pray all day long. Although I sometimes wanted to give Suzanne a good shake (the girl is more innocent than some five year olds I know) I had to admire her tenacity and her refusal to bow to her circumstances.
In Summary: I was excepting to read a terribly dry book about some devout old woman knitting, or something, but instead I get this sharp, thought-provoking and terribly entertaining novel. Might have to rethink that prejudice I have against "old" books...
Whew. 1% DONE!! This is gonna take a long time. Alright. Off to enjoy my last night of freedom. Happy New Year, everyone!
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