The Bee Sting by Paul Murray:
I was warned that the author did some crazy things with the punctuation, so I expected it. There are no quotation marks in some chapters, sometimes periods are the only punctuation, and sometimes there are no periods at all, causing the reader to rely on capitals to know where a sentence begins, which is confusing because names, too, are capitalized. After I got used to it, it didn’t detract from the story, which followed the ups and downs of a family of four for several years.
The characters: A father whose pride leads him to embezzle; a wife who sees her husband as a cash cow, then belittles him when he runs into financial difficulties; the teenaged daughter, a high achiever who strays into alcoholism; and the young son, bullied because of his father’s shady dealings, and ignored at home.
Reviewers refer to it as a tragicomedy, which is as it should be, because laughing while crying is the way of the Irish. And how does a writer combine tragedy and comedy when the story itself is distressing? By using unusual or funny descriptions and vocabulary, and by making the source of the misery absurd—like a bee string. But other than these nods to humor, this book broke my heart. One of my prime credos is “be kind to the people you love,” but those four characters were wretched islands in that house. There was no conversation, no approval, no encouragement, no honesty.
So why did I enjoy the book so much? Because of the compelling writing. Honestly, I couldn’t put it down. The story and characters will stay with me for years. Cited as one of the top ten novels of the year, it was, indeed, profound; and if you dip into only one piece of fiction this year, this is the one it should be.
Mania by Lionel Shriver
I’ve read two other books by this author—The Motion of the Body Through Space, and We Need to Talk About Kevin—if you look her up, you’ll see that she’s prolific. As with the two I’ve previously read, Mania is rooted in societal issues. It’s set at the point of the pendulum’s journey where political correctness has gone too far.
When it’s decided by the PC police that referring to some people as “smart” hurts the feelings of those who aren’t smart, it becomes illegal to use any words that categorize someone as being outstanding or gifted in any sphere; and it soon follows that words that have anything to do with being “lesser” are banned; for instance, not only can you not call a person “slow,” you can’t say “this song is asinine,” or “this food tastes awful,” because denigration might stir up negative feelings. Tests are no longer allowed in schools because grades show that some students are smarter than others—and this leads to an uneducated society.
Mania is clever and dry. The snarky main character is ostracized because she can’t stop herself from declaring that political correctness is “dumb.” She loses her job, she loses her children, she must go on the run. On every page, another stratum of society falls victim to the trend, until there are no educated scientists, doctors, writers, or teachers. I enjoyed the concept. And don’t worry. It ends well.
I Cheerfully Refuse by Lief Enger
This is a post apocalyptical odyssey; indeed, it is along the lines of Odysseus’s journey, so keep the reference in mind as you begin reading. Highly imaginative, it’s set in a world where no one knows where their next meal will come from, or where they’ll sleep when night arrives; and this universal desperation speaks to the truth that those who are unpleasant in ordinary circumstances become evil monsters when they’re backed into a corner; and that people with stalwart hearts become saints.
And yes, there’s a plot, though it pretty much involves rushing from one precarious predicament to another. A musician’s wife is found murdered; the grieving husband inadvertently possesses drugs belonging to a drug lord; a chase across Lake Superior in a dilapidated boat ensues; a little girl, fleeing from her abuser, becomes a stowaway. Threats are made, heroes are captured, borders are breached in the dark of the night; murders are witnessed. If you’d like to try something different and easily navigated, this is a rich and resonating read about resilience, persistence, and the triumph of the righteous.
The Covenant of Water by Abraham Vergese:
Abraham Vergese authored Cutting for Stone several years ago—and I still recall the writing as being spiritual and lyrical—as is The Covenant of Water, which makes food preparation magical, lends holiness to farming, and understands the soul of the sunrise.
It is a lengthy multi-faceted saga which begins when a twelve-year old girl, Mariamma, is forced by her uncle to marry a forty-year-old man. As this occurs, the reader shudders; but the child’s husband turns out to be a kind and wise man, and she comes to love his son as her own; and she’s happy with her new neighbors and her house duties. And, as I said, this is only the beginning of a long, engaging, and complicated yarn .
This multi-generational tale is set in a Christian area of southwest India. The characters include not only Mariamma and her family, but every person she or her family members encounter during her long lifetime. In short, the reader comes to know many, many personalities, all unique, all substantial, some with fascinating and ambitious agendas, others who are simply happy to have enough to get by. Also, a mischievous elephant plays a part. Aspects explored: greed, envy, love, prejudice, disease, disappointment, communication, death, duplicity, aspiration, betrayal. Yep, it’s a box of chocolates.
Covenant, in the title, refers to an inherited weakness and disorientation when immersed in water. As bizarre as it sounds, drowning runs in the family. The solution has always been for the family to stay away from bodies of water, which is difficult to do, as they’re surrounded by it. See what happens to this fear of water when science and research are applied to this unusual condition. It was a splendid read. If you’d like to bask in the beauty of another culture for a few weeks, get started on this lovely book.
I’m currently reading A Visit from the Goon Squad by Jennifer Egan. I’m about a third of the way through, and, so far, it’s a befuddling hodgepodge and a lot of work. It won the Pulitzer, so hopefully it’ll become more cohesive. David is reading Benjamin Franklin: An American Life by Walter Isaacson. He insists that I’d like it. He knows I prefer fiction, so when he rhapsodizes so enthusiastically about the written word, I take him seriously. And that’s why my next read will be the Benjamin Franklin bio.
My Kindle propped on our kitchen’s malevolent chicken. Why? For fun.
