Even if not all of Louise Erdrich’s books stick the landing, her storytelling is consistently compelling. The Mighty Red is no exception, featuring maEven if not all of Louise Erdrich’s books stick the landing, her storytelling is consistently compelling. The Mighty Red is no exception, featuring many of her signature traits: dysfunctional families, small communities, a focus on regret, contradictory feelings, and grief. Erdrich turns her sharp eye to human nature, revealing the hypocrisies and tensions that simmer beneath the surface of individuals and of tightly-knit, Church-going communities. Despite her frank, occasionally unsparing approach to these themes, her storytelling always has a humor to it that enlivens the dreary or downright tragic circumstances that her characters are in.
Set in Argus, North Dakota, during the financial crisis of 2008, The Mighty Red mostly revolves around the marriage between Gary Geist and Kismet Poe. Gary, a soon to be farmer, is eager to marry his high school girlfriend as soon as they graduate. Kismet, however, is hesitant. Her reluctance is misinterpreted by Gary and their community as assent, and she finds herself swept along by others’ intentions. Almost as if in a daze, Kismet goes through with the wedding. She then moves into one of the Geist farms, where she is burdened with maintaining not only her household but also caring for her in-laws. Despite her mounting dissatisfaction—Kismet may be unsure of herself and what she wants to do or be, she has no desire not to play Cinderella—she struggles to pry herself from Gary and his family’s neediness for her, which makes them unwilling for her to leave the farm. Meanwhile, Kismet’s mother, Crystal, on top of worrying for her daughter, faces the fallout of Kismet’s father’s betrayal. Without her knowledge, he mortgaged their house and took off with their church’s savings, forcing her to pay money for a lawyer and making her persona-non-grata with most of Argus.
As with many of Erdrich’s novels, The Mighty Red examines the thorny relationships within a small, usually Midwestern, community. But whereas her other novels are slightly more, raw I guess?— or maybe not raw, but unvarnished, The Mighty Red feels more vanilla, something closer to the realms of Anne Tyler, say. Yes, there is a sense of unease, which is particularly palpable in scenes depicting Kismet’s life with the Geists, as they wilfully ignore her desires and impose their own needs upon her…but the atmosphere never comes to its full realization. They are sus for sure, but the novel never goes there. I was waiting for more, but this “more” never solidified. Still, while the book lacks a tightly defined plot, the setting and character interactions provide plenty of compelling moments. And the storytelling is at its strongest when Erdrich is focused on exploring her characters’ fears and desires, their hypocrisy and passivity, as well as showing how the past haunts the present. However, compared to some of Erdrich’s earlier works, this novel doesn’t delve as deeply into the guilt and redemption its characters supposedly feel. It’s disappointing that the story’s climax hinges on Gary, a character portrayed almost exclusively as a buffoon. This seemed like an attempt to humanize him and his parents, but their backstory of collective trauma feels like a belated grab for sympathy that did not work with me, especially given how cartoonish they’ve been throughout. It’s not like I was expecting something more disturbing, along the lines of I’m Thinking of Ending Things, but I wanted more out of Kismet’s time with the Geists, or for them to be ultimately portrayed as merely misguided.
Kismet is a character who will definitely frustrate readers. Her indecision and passivity lead her into avoidable predicaments, despite the support and advice of her mother and friends to steer clear of Gary. Yet, this indecision is integral to who Kismet is. Her reading of Madame Bovary is no coincidence; like Emma Bovary, Kismet finds herself trapped by circumstances, though for different reasons. While Emma self-destructs in her pursuit of “more”—more love, more luxury, just more of everything—Kismet doesn't want anything in particular, and it is this lack of direction that leaves her vulnerable to others’ desires. I have come across similar female characters before, the kind of people that make you say “and you did this for what?” (usually in response to them dating or marrying questionable men or going along with things that have null advantages), so while I was frustrated with Kismet, I (mostly) understood how she found herself in this situation. Her dynamic with her mother, Crystal, feels genuine and mutually supportive, and I often found myself wishing the book spent more time on their relationship. Instead, much of the narrative focuses on the loser men in the mother-daughter’s lives and showing how they try to deal with the fallout of said loser men’s actions.
There’s also another potential love interest for Kismet, whose fixation on her comes across as unsettling rather than romantic. For much of the story, I assumed his intentions were dubious, only for the narrative to frame his behavior as endearing. The resolution of his arc, along with that of another male character, felt undeserved, as if the story rewarded them for behavior that was either creepy or shitty. And it kind of goes against Kismet and Crystal’s character development since much of the novel questions and explores how they try to be independent from others, especially men who ignore what they want and do not even think to listen to what other people want.
But hey, even when she is not at her best, Erdrich still has that something that keeps my attention. I just love how candid she can be, and of how realistic, deadpan even, she is when it comes to portraying domestic&every-day life…yet also imbues her characters seemingly ordinary realities with a sense of something “other” playing a role into their lives, be it because her characters are religious or due to the story venturing into magical realism (presenting in a way that is not fantastical but just the way things are…be it ghosts, apparitions, fate, etc.). Ultimately,The Mighty Red succeeds in capturing the essence of life in a small town in the late 2000s. While not necessarily as atmospheric or perceptive as her other novels, The Mighty Red manages to be a compelling read that offers poignant moments and thought-provoking themes even if it falls short of fully realizing them....more
The History of Living Forever is an ambitious novel. The narrative includes multiple timelines and often switches between 1st and 3rd perspective, weaving together a compelling yet intricate story. Two of the central figures in these various 'timelines' are Conrad Aybinder and Sammy Tampari who in spite of their student-teacher relationship, and of Conrad being underage, become involved romantically. Their "liaison" however is soon cut short by Sammy's death. A grief-struck Conrad finds himself entangled in what was Sammy's search for immortality. Through Sammy's diary entries he discovers that for years Sammy had been using himself as a guinea pig. Had Sammy lost his mind? Or was he really onto something? With this fascinating premise The History of Living Forever details Sammy and Conrad lives, moving from their childhoods to their adulthoods. They are highly intelligent individuals who are feel somewhat isolated by their intellect (both of them are high-school seniors at the age of 16), I like the fact that the narrative never romanticises their worst actions or behaviours and that other characters call them out on their 'bad antics'. I also enjoyed the way the characters around them were rendered. Wherever they had an important role or not they were engaging and realistic. I was particularly affected by the parents and relatives in this story. While Conrad's dad is an alcoholic and could have easily been relegated to the role of 'bad dad' the narrative offers a nuanced portrayal of him and his addiction. The plot was in constant movement, shifting from past to present, jumping from one theory to the other. We learn what drives Sammy's quest for immortality and see that at the age of 40 Conrad still thinks of him. At times I was overwhelmed by the sheer quantity of information we were given. Don't get me wrong, it was all fascinating, but science and maths are not my fortes so I think (okay, I know) that many things that went over my head. Nevertheless, I was captivated by this story which is a story about science, love, obsession, and immortality. Immortality makes for an intriguing topic, one that Wolff skilfully explores. Part of me wishes that we could have had more of Conrad and less of Sammy, or that at least we could have known what Sammy felt for Conrad. Overall, I think this is an incredibly creative novel, one that bridges genre (coming of age, mystery, adventure, speculative fiction). While I wish that some of the characters' arcs had been handled differently, I am looking forward to reading this again (and perhaps I will have a better grasp of the theories discussed).
The History of Living Forever is an ambitious novel. The narrative includes multiple timelines and often switches between 1st and 3rd perspective, weaving together a compelling yet intricate story. Two of the central figures in these various 'timelines' are Conrad Aybinder and Sammy Tampari who in spite of their student-teacher relationship, and of Conrad being underage, become involved romantically. Their "liaison" however is soon cut short by Sammy's death. A grief-struck Conrad finds himself entangled in what was Sammy's search for immortality. Through Sammy's diary entries he discovers that for years Sammy had been using himself as a guinea pig. Had Sammy lost his mind? Or was he really onto something? With this fascinating premise The History of Living Forever details Sammy and Conrad lives, moving from their childhoods to their adulthoods. They are highly intelligent individuals who are feel somewhat isolated by their intellect (both of them are high-school seniors at the age of 16), I like the fact that the narrative never romanticises their worst actions or behaviours and that other characters call them out on their 'bad antics'. I also enjoyed the way the characters around them were rendered. Wherever they had an important role or not they were engaging and realistic. I was particularly affected by the parents and relatives in this story. While Conrad's dad is an alcoholic and could have easily been relegated to the role of 'bad dad' the narrative offers a nuanced portrayal of him and his addiction. The plot was in constant movement, shifting from past to present, jumping from one theory to the other. We learn what drives Sammy's quest for immortality and see that at the age of 40 Conrad still thinks of him. At times I was overwhelmed by the sheer quantity of information we were given. Don't get me wrong, it was all fascinating, but science and maths are not my fortes so I think (okay, I know) that many things that went over my head. Nevertheless, I was captivated by this story which is a story about science, love, obsession, and immortality. Immortality makes for an intriguing topic, one that Wolff skilfully explores. Part of me wishes that we could have had more of Conrad and less of Sammy, or that at least we could have known what Sammy felt for Conrad. Overall, I think this is an incredibly creative novel, one that bridges genre (coming of age, mystery, adventure, speculative fiction). While I wish that some of the characters' arcs had been handled differently, I am looking forward to reading this again (and perhaps I will have a better grasp of the theories discussed)....more
“I won't introduce you to my father, not personally, not yet. Changes are you already know him.”
This Inheritance collection is turning out to be a rather good one. Anthony Marra's contribution adds a bit of humour to this series. The narrator's father was responsible for a leak of classified documents, landing his own family in the spotlight. Some thought him a hero, others a traitor. Years later, after publishing a memoir on his childhood, our narrator tries to reconcile himself with his now ill father. The tone of this short story is somewhat satirical and it definitely provides its readers with quite a few amusing lines: “His Bluetooth is so firmly rooted in his ear that may, technically, qualify as a cyborg. .” There is a realistic awkwardness between the various characters' interactions which made all the more realistic.
“Honesty comes in an infinite variety, none crueler than a teenager's tedium.”
The narrator quotes Natalia Ginzburg, so yes, this story definitely a plus fo that. However, the nitpicker in me couldn't help but notice that our narrator (someone who can quote Ginzburg) fell for the classic Frankenstein slip (where instead of saying that someone looks like Frankenstein's monster, he refers to them as looking like Frankenstein): “Father Carlson's student have that Frankenstein look of being assembled from different limbs that don't quite fit together.”
Anyway, this was an entertaining short story. It may focus on self-involved individuals (who seem rather disconnected from everyday life) but it also manages to explore compassion and acceptance in very natural (non schmaltzy) way.
“I won't introduce you to my father, not personally, not yet. Changes are you already know him.”
This Inheritance collection is turning out to be a rather good one. Anthony Marra's contribution adds a bit of humour to this series. The narrator's father was responsible for a leak of classified documents, landing his own family in the spotlight. Some thought him a hero, others a traitor. Years later, after publishing a memoir on his childhood, our narrator tries to reconcile himself with his now ill father. The tone of this short story is somewhat satirical and it definitely provides its readers with quite a few amusing lines: “His Bluetooth is so firmly rooted in his ear that may, technically, qualify as a cyborg. .” There is a realistic awkwardness between the various characters' interactions which made all the more realistic.
“Honesty comes in an infinite variety, none crueler than a teenager's tedium.”
The narrator quotes Natalia Ginzburg, so yes, this story definitely a plus fo that. However, the nitpicker in me couldn't help but notice that our narrator (someone who can quote Ginzburg) fell for the classic Frankenstein slip (where instead of saying that someone looks like Frankenstein's monster, he refers to them as looking like Frankenstein): “Father Carlson's student have that Frankenstein look of being assembled from different limbs that don't quite fit together.”
Anyway, this was an entertaining short story. It may focus on self-involved individuals (who seem rather disconnected from everyday life) but it also manages to explore compassion and acceptance in very natural (non schmaltzy) way....more
“Had Harold Pardee killed his wife? In hair salons, at lunch counters, the question was posed. Such a death, in Bakerton, was without precedent.”
This being the first work I've read by Jennifer Haigh, I wasn't sure what to expect. I'm not sure if this story fits in the Inheritance collection. While others authors who have contributed to this series have focused on themes of reconciliation: Alice Hoffman and Anthony Marra, respectively in Everything My Mother Taught Me and The Lion's Den, focus on the fraught dynamics between a children and their parents, while in The Weddings Alexander Chee turns towards a complicated 'friendship'. Zenith Man has a very different tone that sets it apart from the rest these stories. It seems closer to a work of Souther Gothic or Noir. Similarly to Shirley Jackson Haigh's presents us with a slightly unsettling depiction of on an 'ordinary' town and its people. There is a sense of unease as well as a good dose of dark humour. Haigh's is a good storyteller who creates and maintains this uneasy atmosphere, one that makes us pay attention to the specific language she uses.
“In Bakerton a murder would not have been forgotten. The local memory was a powerful tool, an instrument so sensitive it recalled events that hadn't actually occurred. Conscious of its new status as a place where things happened Bakerton cleared its throat and commenced speculating.”
So while Haigh' writing style is definitely enjoyable, I wasn't as taken by the story itself. It was okay, but I was expecting a more interesting storyline.
“Had Harold Pardee killed his wife? In hair salons, at lunch counters, the question was posed. Such a death, in Bakerton, was without precedent.”
This being the first work I've read by Jennifer Haigh, I wasn't sure what to expect. I'm not sure if this story fits in the Inheritance collection. While others authors who have contributed to this series have focused on themes of reconciliation: Alice Hoffman and Anthony Marra, respectively in Everything My Mother Taught Me and The Lion's Den, focus on the fraught dynamics between a children and their parents, while in The Weddings Alexander Chee turns towards a complicated 'friendship'. Zenith Man has a very different tone that sets it apart from the rest these stories. It seems closer to a work of Souther Gothic or Noir. Similarly to Shirley Jackson Haigh's presents us with a slightly unsettling depiction of on an 'ordinary' town and its people. There is a sense of unease as well as a good dose of dark humour. Haigh's is a good storyteller who creates and maintains this uneasy atmosphere, one that makes us pay attention to the specific language she uses.
“In Bakerton a murder would not have been forgotten. The local memory was a powerful tool, an instrument so sensitive it recalled events that hadn't actually occurred. Conscious of its new status as a place where things happened Bakerton cleared its throat and commenced speculating.”
So while Haigh' writing style is definitely enjoyable, I wasn't as taken by the story itself. It was okay, but I was expecting a more interesting storyline.
I'm starting to get tired of this trend of 'if a girl acts like perv not only it's okay but it's actually funny!' First of all: this is the typeDNF 30%
I'm starting to get tired of this trend of 'if a girl acts like perv not only it's okay but it's actually funny!' First of all: this is the type of book that demands a lot of suspension of disbelief. That Rebecca would just do what Vanessa wants even if it is clearly not part of her job or connected to it (ie: Vanessa is not a tyrant, if Rebecca was to be unjustly fired on the basis of not wanting to agree to do an 'outside job' for her boss). Then again Rebecca can't be all that smart as she then believes that it's a good idea for people to believe that she is Vanessa and that they will understand if she reveals later on that she isn't (where is she living? the moon?!).
What really annoyed me was that Rebecca thinks it's perfectly okay to sneak a photo of a builder's bum as it is a very good looking one so that she can then send it to her friend. The narrative tries to make it so that she is aware that she was being a bit of a perv but it's okay since he then quite rightfully acts in an unfriendly manner towards her (so he deserved it?!). Do pervy, clueless, air-heads make for sympathetic or realistic main characters? Not really. If we were to switch their genders in that scene (so that it is a male sneaking a photo of a woman's bottom, a woman he does not even know or has even seen before)...not so funny right?
Another thing that I noticed was the lack of logic: the builder catches our protagonist red-handed and believing that she is his employer (who he knows is an unpleasant person by her reputation) tells her: "I'd thought you'd be more rottweiler than chihuahua" (which leads us to believe that he is not that threatened by her or her authority over him) before then telling off his mates for not warning him of her arrival as "I could have got myself sacked up there just now". If he was so worried about meeting Vanessa wouldn't he have avoided comparing her to a dog?
The book is also full of lazy stereotypes (like the taxi driver who pats his stomach and talks about his 'missus') that don't really come across as funny or clever takes on real people. There is Rebecca's housemate from hell (who is an exaggerated take on the lazy, smelly, sexist housemate)...Vanessa is an amalgamation of 'devil' bosses found in The Devil Wears Prada and My Not So Perfect Life
My advice is to skip this one!
Merged review:
DNF 30%
I'm starting to get tired of this trend of 'if a girl acts like perv not only it's okay but it's actually funny!' First of all: this is the type of book that demands a lot of suspension of disbelief. That Rebecca would just do what Vanessa wants even if it is clearly not part of her job or connected to it (ie: Vanessa is not a tyrant, if Rebecca was to be unjustly fired on the basis of not wanting to agree to do an 'outside job' for her boss). Then again Rebecca can't be all that smart as she then believes that it's a good idea for people to believe that she is Vanessa and that they will understand if she reveals later on that she isn't (where is she living? the moon?!).
What really annoyed me was that Rebecca thinks it's perfectly okay to sneak a photo of a builder's bum as it is a very good looking one so that she can then send it to her friend. The narrative tries to make it so that she is aware that she was being a bit of a perv but it's okay since he then quite rightfully acts in an unfriendly manner towards her (so he deserved it?!). Do pervy, clueless, air-heads make for sympathetic or realistic main characters? Not really. If we were to switch their genders in that scene (so that it is a male sneaking a photo of a woman's bottom, a woman he does not even know or has even seen before)...not so funny right?
Another thing that I noticed was the lack of logic: the builder catches our protagonist red-handed and believing that she is his employer (who he knows is an unpleasant person by her reputation) tells her: "I'd thought you'd be more rottweiler than chihuahua" (which leads us to believe that he is not that threatened by her or her authority over him) before then telling off his mates for not warning him of her arrival as "I could have got myself sacked up there just now". If he was so worried about meeting Vanessa wouldn't he have avoided comparing her to a dog?
The book is also full of lazy stereotypes (like the taxi driver who pats his stomach and talks about his 'missus') that don't really come across as funny or clever takes on real people. There is Rebecca's housemate from hell (who is an exaggerated take on the lazy, smelly, sexist housemate)...Vanessa is an amalgamation of 'devil' bosses found in The Devil Wears Prada and My Not So Perfect Life
“Why am I here? he asks himself. What am I doing?”
In just under fifty pages Alexander Chee examines a man's ch| | blog | tumblr | ko-fi | |
3.5 stars
“Why am I here? he asks himself. What am I doing?”
In just under fifty pages Alexander Chee examines a man's changing relationship to his old college friend. The weddings of the title are the backdrop to our protagonists' personal crisis. Jack Cho is a forty-something man in a committed relationship with Caleb. When they are invited to attend the wedding of a friend of Caleb's, Jack finds himself, for the very first time, wondering if he too will marry. Soon after the couple is invited to the wedding of Scott, Jack's college 'friend'. Jack is forced to confront his own repressed feelings for Scott. As certain details come to light, he becomes aware of having idealised this past relationship. There were many realistically awkward moments and some great commentary regarding marriage (the pressure to marry, the way weddings become displays of the couple's love). Jack's self-analysis was detailed in a poignant prose that conveyed his hurt and unwillingness to see Scott for who he truly is. This short story also touches upon: fetishisation (naive as I am, I had no idea what 'rice queen' and 'rice king' meant), the double 'rejection' that Jack often feels being Korean American (Koreans will not view him as truly Korean and white Americans will question his nationality). My only 'complaint' is that there was the occasional twee phrase:
“Scott was so much trouble, whatever the reason was. A beautiful disaster.”
Overall however this was a short yet intelligent story that pays careful attention to those awkward pauses and heavy silences that can fill a conversation. It reminded me a bit of Come Rain or Come Shine: Faber Stories by Kazuo Ishiguro and certain short stories by Jhumpa Lahiri.
“Even then, ha he would endlessly be a curiosity and not a person. He would forget this was true and then be reminded this way, this he most recent in the jarring series of moments that threaded thorough his whole life in America. When did it end? When would they all just get used to him—to all of them?”
“Why am I here? he asks himself. What am I doing?”
In just under fifty pages Alexander Chee examines a man's changing relationship to his old college friend. The weddings of the title are the backdrop to our protagonists' personal crisis. Jack Cho is a forty-something man in a committed relationship with Caleb. When they are invited to attend the wedding of a friend of Caleb's, Jack finds himself, for the very first time, wondering if he too will marry. Soon after the couple is invited to the wedding of Scott, Jack's college 'friend'. Jack is forced to confront his own repressed feelings for Scott. As certain details come to light, he becomes aware of having idealised this past relationship. There were many realistically awkward moments and some great commentary regarding marriage (the pressure to marry, the way weddings become displays of the couple's love). Jack's self-analysis was detailed in a poignant prose that conveyed his hurt and unwillingness to see Scott for who he truly is. This short story also touches upon: fetishisation (naive as I am, I had no idea what 'rice queen' and 'rice king' meant), the double 'rejection' that Jack often feels being Korean American (Koreans will not view him as truly Korean and white Americans will question his nationality). My only 'complaint' is that there was the occasional twee phrase:
“Scott was so much trouble, whatever the reason was. A beautiful disaster.”
Overall however this was a short yet intelligent story that pays careful attention to those awkward pauses and heavy silences that can fill a conversation. It reminded me a bit of Come Rain or Come Shine: Faber Stories by Kazuo Ishiguro and certain short stories by Jhumpa Lahiri.
“Even then, ha he would endlessly be a curiosity and not a person. He would forget this was true and then be reminded this way, this he most recent in the jarring series of moments that threaded thorough his whole life in America. When did it end? When would they all just get used to him—to all of them?”
A rather forgettable novella that fails to leave a good impression. The characters and their world seem bland, undevelo| | blog | tumblr | ko-fi | |
A rather forgettable novella that fails to leave a good impression. The characters and their world seem bland, undeveloped. The idea could have been interesting but...
A rather forgettable novella that fails to leave a good impression. The characters and their world seem bland, undeveloped. The idea could have been interesting but......more
A short and pitch-perfect tale that focuses on a woman's relationship with her father. As per usual Oates is not afraid| | blog | tumblr | ko-fi | |
A short and pitch-perfect tale that focuses on a woman's relationship with her father. As per usual Oates is not afraid to explore the dark and nasty aspects of an individual's mind. In this case however I don't think her story is as grotesque as some of her other writing. Nor is she being gratuitously morbid. Lou's thoughts are not as disturbing as one might think, in fact, I believe that we are made to really understand her actions throughout the course of this story. Roland, Lou's father, is in many ways a nasty piece of shit. Yet, Oates manages to portray him in a way that allows him to be more complex than what we might think. The prose and the narration of this story are incredibly polished. Both beguiling and dark Patricide is an intense portrayal of a fucked up father-daughter relationship.
A short and pitch-perfect tale that focuses on a woman's relationship with her father. As per usual Oates is not afraid to explore the dark and nasty aspects of an individual's mind. In this case however I don't think her story is as grotesque as some of her other writing. Nor is she being gratuitously morbid. Lou's thoughts are not as disturbing as one might think, in fact, I believe that we are made to really understand her actions throughout the course of this story. Roland, Lou's father, is in many ways a nasty piece of shit. Yet, Oates manages to portray him in a way that allows him to be more complex than what we might think. The prose and the narration of this story are incredibly polished. Both beguiling and dark Patricide is an intense portrayal of a fucked up father-daughter relationship....more