Showing posts with label Jaimie. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Jaimie. Show all posts

Monday, May 12, 2008

Rabbit is Rich


I'm officially giving up and putting Rabbit is Rich down and do not expect to be picking it up again anytime soon. Please note: I tried really, really hard to finish this. I just couldn't do it. So I'll consider this half a review and the only reason I'm posting is because that half of a book took a painful two weeks of my life.

Was the book bad? Actually, no. John Updike is a brilliant author and has won many deserved awards throughout his career. In a weird sort of way I feel like I should congratulate Mr. Updike for disturbing me to the point where I had to put his book down. Rabbit is Rich won the Pulitzer prize in 1982 and Rabbit at Rest won in 1991. His stories pop and he paints a vivid picture of the culture of that day. I was there again at the gas lines in the 1970's oil crisis and experienced that sudden and highly controversial shift in popularity to Japanese cars which got superior gas mileage. That is the reason Harry (Rabbit) Angstrom, owner of Springer Motors and now middle aged, is rich. He sells Toyota's.

Updike's characterizations are phenomenal. Every one of them including minor characters are multi-faceted real human beings. I felt I knew them all. That is what turned out to be my problem.

I hate Rabbit. I mean I really loathe that guy. Yes, I know characters don't have to be good people and sometimes villainous ones are more fun, but I could not get past the person he was. Every time I picked up this book I would read a few pages and negative emotions would overtake me like no other book has done in a long time.

Rabbit is a hollow person who pretends to be full. He is not happy, nor knows how to be. His smug satisfaction on being rich rings false because he married into the Toyota business and then profits from a bad economic turn.

He doesn't use the money to improve his life however and though he wants a house doesn't buy one. He wants to meet his illegitimate daughter but lacks the courage. He thinks he owns the world but has zero leadership skills. It would never occur to him to reach out and help others or his community.

Rabbit ogles every woman he sees, including his son's pregnant fiancee. The first chapter describes him having sex with his passed out drunk wife. Lovely.

Rabbit hates his son and squashes every dream the boy has. Ironically Nelson wants to work with his father in the car business but Rabbit does not want him there for anything. He interjects petty, mean comments into every conversation with Nelson and says terrible things about him behind his back. Though he himself did not attend college, Rabbit is outraged that Nelson doesn't want to finish and has no interest in him as a separate human being with desires and goals of his own. Rabbit is also quite a nag.

At first I thought the character of Rabbit Angstrom was going to be similar to George Babbitt but no way. Though Babbitt is also slightly corrupt and at times contemptible he is also loyal, optimistic, dare I say joyous, and audaciously goofy. Babbitt stands by his son and is secretly proud when he does something unconventional.

There is much more nastiness in Rabbit but even so, does that make it a bad book? No way! Updike nailed that character but it came too close to home for me. You see, I know a Rabbit, actually two. What can I say, I have my own issues. Maybe some of the situations or Rabbit's attitudes change in the course of the story but I just don't care to stick around and find out.
If this book is supposed to describe the men of that era then thank God it is over. I am happy to report that my own, now middle aged husband is nothing like Rabbit. Nothing.

One thing is for sure. If true art is supposed to challenge a person, then this is the one for me. When I pick up this book up maybe years from now, it will be interesting to see how I feel about it then.
Until then.

Tuesday, April 22, 2008

The Town


The final novel in The Awakening Land Trilogy concludes the life story of Sayward (pronounced Saerd) Luckett Wheeler and the bustling town she helped create out of the wilderness at the close of the eighteenth century. Now a middle aged and older woman, she finishes raising her family and enjoys the fruits of her years of hard, unrelenting labor. But there is regret too as the town becomes bigger than she ever imagined it and her children make bad choices. The illegitimate daughter of her husband Portius brings addition heartache and the fate of her younger sister Sulie is finally disclosed. But as always, Sayward adapts to her surroundings and finishes off her life as an influential member of the community.
I strongly recommend reading the first two books in the trilogy before tackling this one. Otherwise the extent of that area's transformation amid the struggles to survive will have little meaning.

The Trees begins the saga of the Luckett family and fifteen-year-old Sayward, a calm, stoic, and the oldest of five children as they settle in the great forests of the Alleghenies. The trees are so thick, a person could walk for weeks and not see the sun. When her mother dies and father abandons the family, it is Sayward's job to raise her family and somehow build a life for them.





The Fields shows the beginnings of a community as Sayward and her neighbors tackle the trees to make clearings for crops. As she deals with babies, starvation, and tragedy a church is built and neighbors leave their isolation to help each other and make decisions as a group.
Most stories contained in these books are based on actual tales and personal accounts Conrad Richter heard as a boy from pioneer family and friends. The introduction tells how he feels an obligation to those resourceful people who's names never appeared in history books, but had a direct influence in building our country.

Anyone looking for good female role models or literary figures need go no further. Sayward's strength, dignity, and grace make her one of the most powerful women in American literature and enhances the honesty of this stunning work.

I am mystified why this is not required reading in school and cannot recommend this series highly enough. Retire your Little House on the Prairie and experience these instead. This is as real as it gets. Five Stars

Friday, January 25, 2008

The Age of Innocence


Newland Archer and May Welland are two wealthy young people living in New York in the late 1800's. Engaged to be married and looking forward to a respectable if somewhat dull life they were unprepared to meet May’s cousin, the Countess Olenska. Ellen has just arrived from Europe after perpetrating a harrowing escape from her debauched husband and her family greets her as if she just returned from a long vacation.

Traumatized by the experience and baffled by her family’s indifference to it, Ellen seeks some frank advice from Newland and as he is also lonely among the smiling facades, is drawn to her openness and falls in love. Because scandal of any sort is to be avoided at any cost, Newland went ahead and married May while still pining for Ellen. Having been persuaded to not divorce, Ellen finds she has been sacrificed to the god of respectability and her place in society grows dubious as remarriage is impossible.

It is easy in this day and age to misunderstand this superb novel and cast it aside as a simple satire on Victorian manners and repression. It is so much more. We all know about sexual repression of that time but that was only part of the severe restrictions placed on every aspect of what are considered normal relationships. A husband and wife could go through their lives wearing masks of pleasant affability and never show true feelings and express honest opinions.

Think about it. With her attorneys in particular, most everyone understood why the Countess Olenska left her depraved husband but a divorce was still unthinkable. The women who were shocked had no inkling of what she had been through and were kept carefully in the dark as if the knowledge itself would somehow taint them. No one could talk openly to anyone, not even to one’s own husband or wife. Not ever. With full knowledge and a heart full of pain May went to her grave without sharing with Newland his feelings about Ellen and how it affected her as a result. She hinted on her deathbed to her son but still disclosed no details. Hooray for the cult of the family.

Edith Wharton is very candid with Victorian domestic problems and tackles an entire social structure based on appearances. She was the first woman to win the Pulitzer Prize and I feel it is well earned.