Tuesday, March 17, 2009
Every Man Dies Alone by Hans Fallada
There are some authors who, when faced with the terrible realities of life, respond with hopelessness. They let their characters die without meaning or, worse yet, live without meaning. They see the darkness in the world and interpret it as defeat, futility. One such author used these words: "Vanity, vanity, all is vanity...a chasing after the wind."
On the other hand, there are authors who paint the whole world as hopeful and good. The hard times are no more than hiccups in an otherwise grand and delightful tale of happily ever after.
And then there are the real authors. The ones who look life in the face, acknowledging its hardships and brutalities, and still write with hope. Hans Fallada is one of those authors.
Every Man Dies Alone is the story of a group of Berliners living during the Nazi reign over Germany. Each of their stories is separate and unique, though their lives connect in small ways. Many are opposed to Hitler and the Nazis. Some are too self-focused to care about the atrocities being committed around them. A few whole-heartedly support the Third Reich. But all of them taste the bitter consequences of living under such a regime.
The central story-line follows Otto and Anna Quangel, a couple just past mid-life, who have lost their only son in the war. Their loss forces them to acknowledge the evils of their Fuhrer and his government, and makes them see the meaninglessness of their own lives. They make a decision. They will write postcards that speak out against Hitler and the war and they will leave them all over Berlin. People will see the cards and be inspired; they will start a revolution from within...or so they believe.
In fact, the Quangel's cards do little to stir rebellion in their fellow citizens. Fear is too rampant, it's clutch too strong. And as a result of their actions, Otto and Anna put themselves and many others in grave danger for the Nazi regime does not look lightly on traitors. But in spite of their failure, Otto and Anna have found meaning in life, and the fulfillment that comes from living honorably even in the most degrading and horrific circumstances.
Fallada lived through the Nazi occupation of Germany. He saw the fear they spread and the atrocities they committed. He experienced interrogations and imprisonment. And he knew the futility of trying to stand against the iron-fisted regime. But still, he writes with hope. His characters have meaning and purpose in their lives. Even after they discover the failure of their subversions, they do not feel that their actions were wasted. They live for their own honor, for moral decency. They do not give way to hopelessness. In the face of torture and death, they have an inner peace, knowing that they have not bowed to fear as so many others have.
It is this determined hope that makes Every Man Dies Alone a book worth reading and reading again. It's true that there are some Dickensian moments (convenient coincidences that are hardly believable) and some slow passages that focus on less-than-intriguing characters. But these do not compromise the successful message of the novel: Life is often hard, even horrific. But a life lived with integrity and honor is meaningful in itself, and is a source of peace and strength even under the worst persecution. Honor cannot be taken by force or by fear.
Every Man Dies Alone was written shortly after the Nazi defeat. It was not published until after Fallada's death, and has only this year been translated and published in English. Now that it is finally available, it should be given a place on the bookshelves of English-speakers everywhere.
Tuesday, February 24, 2009
Burning Bright by Tracy Chevalier
This week I had the joy of reading a novel by Tracy Chevalier. I had read her Girl With a Pearl Earring a few months ago and found it to be both beautiful and satisfying. So I had high expectations for Burning Bright, and I was not disappointed.
Ms. Chevalier likes to pull famous faces from the past into her novels, but she does not make the mistake of building the entire story around them. In this case, she introduces readers to the intriguing, if somewhat bizarre, William Blake. Blake, a poet and painter, lives in the same neighborhood with Jem Kellaway and Maggie Butterfield, two nearly-adolescents who are the primary characters of the novel.
Jem has recently moved from rural Dorsetshire to London with his family when he meets Maggie, a city girl who has grown up in London. Jem's feelings for Maggie mirror his feelings for this new city: he is intrigued by the mysteries and curiosities of London's streets, but he is also a bit disgusted by what he finds there. Jem likes Maggie, her high spirit, her intrepid willingness to explore the nooks and crannies of the city. But he is put off by the coarseness that Maggie's parents and brother-and sometimes Maggie herself-display. In return, Maggie enjoys the power she experiences as Jem's guide to all things London, and she finds his rural simplicity and honesty a refreshing change from the guileful family and neighbors she is used to. As time passes, they learn to trust one another and their friendship becomes a safe place for them to explore the challenges and joys of growing up.
Chevalier does a stunning job of keeping her story simple and focused. Jem and Maggie's relationship, the response of Jem's family to their new urban environs, and the subtle changes that take place in each of the characters over the course of the novel--these are the heart of the novel. But while Chevalier never sacrifices her characters veracity for sensational plot developments, she yet manages to create a believable backdrop of historically crucial events and persons. William Blake, in whom the children find a stabilizing influence in their quickly-changing lives, is also a sympathizer with the French revolutionaries. He finds his home and his freedom threatened by Loyalists who would wipe out dissension before it can take hold in Britain. Thus readers are given a glimpse of how the French Revolution may have impacted the daily lives of people in neighborhoods throughout London and elsewhere, as well as how it affected the literature and art of the time.
Less historically memorable, but interesting nonetheless, is the phenomenon of Philip Astley's circus, located in a field across the bridge from Westminster Abbey in what was then the outskirts of London. (Hard to believe if you've visited the city in recent years...there are no open fields to be seen anywhere in the area, unless you can get a distant glimpse of one from the top of the London Eye which now stands in that neighborhood.) According to Chevalier, Astley's circus employed, and therefore influenced, the majority of residents in that part of the city. Indeed, Astley built much of the neighborhood himself to house his performers and other circus staff. While not as impactful as the French Revolution, Astley and his circus undoubtedly left a mark on London, a mark which may remain subtly visible to this day.
Jem and Maggie are small characters against a grand backdrop of historical events. But they never seem insignificant or overwhelmed by their surroundings. Chevalier paints a beautiful picture of two real souls who are impacted by events and people around them, take those relationships and experiences into themselves, and then grow to become more sure-footed in the ever-changing world they inhabit. Burning Bright will leave you feeling gently inspired that the move from innocence to experience can be achieved successfully, and even gracefully, especially if you have a friend to navigate it with you.
Sunday, February 15, 2009
Fool by Christopher Moore
Creative? Yes. Entertaining. Yep. Funny? Much of the time. Bawdy? Well, yes, to put it lightly.
Christopher Moore's most recent novel, Fool, is a re-telling of Shakespeare's tragedy King Lear. It might seem a strange choice for a renowned comic like Moore, but he does a remarkably good job of turning the most tragic of Shakespeare's scenes to comic effect.
The story is told from the point-of-view of Lear's fool, who is called Pocket. Pocket's position as court jester allows him unique access to all the members of Lear's entourage, from the guards on the castle wall to the King himself. He is particularly favored by Lear's daughters, Goneril, Regan, and Cordelia. It is his favor with so many of the castle's inhabitants that allows him to become a key player in the future of the kingdom.
Without any particular malice, Pocket finds himself pitted against Lear and his two elder daughters as they fight for control of old "Blighty" (a.k.a. Britain). Through his well-forged connections , the prophecies of a mysterious and libidinous ghost woman, and the instructions of three ubiquitous witches (of Macbeth fame), Pocket finds he has the tools and access to the right parties to sway the fate of the entire kingdom--heady stuff for a mere jester. But this is a comedy, and Pocket uses his influence to achieve a happy ending, at least for all who deserve it.
Pocket's story is truly entertaining. The more you learn about his past, the more you become sympathetic to him. In addition, Moore endows him with a sense of wit that draws more than a few chuckles. I did find myself laughing out loud on several occassions.
Moore's humor and his creative revision of this famous story make Fool a fun read. But, as I've alluded to above, be prepared for some bawdy scenes. In fact, you can't go more than two or three pages without coming across a description of some sort of sexual encounter. While these descriptions are always pretty light-hearted and tinged with more than a bit of humor, they are still quite lewd. The novel would have been funnier if Moore had invested his rapacious wit in a greater variety of subject matters, limiting sexual references to a few well-placed scenes.
I won't mark Moore off my list of future reads, but I will be sure to skim for lewdness next time, and will place him back on the shelf if he can't limit his sexual exploits to a few pages at most.
Saturday, February 7, 2009
A Lion Among Men by Gregory Maguire
Well, I found a book about a kitten, of sorts. At a friend’s request, I have just finished reading A Lion Among Men by Gregory Maguire. It is the third of the Wicked series, Maguire’s personal vision of what really happened in the land of Oz, and it tells the story of the Cowardly Lion before and after his famous encounter with Dorothy.
Now, I have a disclaimer to make. I have not read the previous two books in the series. (Though I did see and enjoy the musical version of Wicked.) So, I don’t feel entirely qualified to rate the story-telling aspect of this novel. There are obviously many intricate and subtle tie-ins with the previous novels, many of which allusions I did not fully understand, and many more of which I may have missed altogether.
That having been said, I feel that I can competently review at least two aspects of the work, namely the writing style that Maguire employs and his ability to build believable characters.
While the book focuses primarily upon the Lion, whose name is Brrr, it also explores the life of an ancient maunt (nun) who calls herself Yackle. The novel begins with Brrr, now an employee of the emperor of Oz, interviewing Yackle about her history, and specifically her involvement with Elphaba, the infamous Wicked Witch of the West. But Yackle is not content to simply give answers; she wants some answers of her own, and thus strikes a deal with the Lion: she will share her own history if he will, in turn, share his.
The bulk of the novel takes place in the series of memories that these two characters share with one another. But we, as readers, do not hear what they say to one another. Rather, we see the memory as they see it. We are inside their heads, reliving their pasts with them. This allows Maguire to infuse their stories with an introspective tone. We experience all the self-doubt and self-recrimination that the characters feel. We know the depths of their shame and confusion. We see the events of their lives through the filter of the thoughts and emotions that accompanied those events. It makes for very interesting reading, and very realistic characters. (Well, as realistic as a gentrified lion and an unwittingly immortal crone can be.)
Often in their reminiscings, Brrr and Yackle tend toward the philosophical. With no recollection of family or origins, they both try desperately to make their lives fit into some pattern, something greater than themselves. This leads them to questions about existence and the workings of fate. Often these questions are worded so beautifully, so poignantly, as to make the reader stop, breathtaken. Through his poetic prose, Maguire opens to the reader brand new avenues of thought, just beckoning for exploration.
There were at least a dozen instances in my reading of this novel when I wanted to stop and read a line or a paragraph over and over again, soaking in it, letting my mind expand with it. This is, to me, the mark of a true poet. Maguire chooses words so precisely and turns phrases with such skill that it makes the reader re-imagine parts of their reality in an entirely new light. This alone makes A Lion Among Men worth reading.
The character development is complete; the plot is compelling; the writing is both creative and provocative. In short, read this book. Though (having failed to do so myself) I would recommend beginning at the beginning.
Saturday, January 31, 2009
Agincourt by Bernard Cornwell
I headed into Bernard Cornwell's most recent battlefield narrative expecting some graphic depictions of medieval warfare. I hoped to find an interesting, character-driven story as well. And while I found the first in great abundance, the latter was dissappointingly scarce.
The character development in Agincourt is limited at best. There are a few interesting sketches of historical figures from the time--particularly Sir John Cornewaille, a highly skilled and delightfully vulgar-mouthed leader in Henry V's army, and King Henry himself, a young monarch trying to prove to himself and the world that he is God's man for the job. But only the main character, Nicholas Hook, and his love interest, the French novice Melisande, are given any background story, and even that is undetailed.
Hook alone shows development and change over the course of the novel, from an uncertain young man into a confident, battle-hardened leader. Hook is an archer who finds himself an outlaw mercenary in search of redemption. Near the beginning of the novel, he witnesses a girl being raped by a priest. He hears the audible voice of God telling him to prevent the crime, but unsure of himself and of the voice, Hook fails to act. Thereafter, he finds himself hearing the voices of saints, especially Saints Crispin and Crispinian, who advise him in battle and eventually assist him in redeeming himself from his failure to obey God's behest.
While Nicholas himself is of some interest, Cornwell's real story is that of the battles that led up to Henry V's miraculous victory at Agincourt. From the French massacre of their own people at Soissons to the siege of Harfleur to the battlefield at Agincourt itself, Cornwell clearly takes delight in exploring the details of medieval warfare, including the gruesome bloodshed and barbaric, carnal behavior of the soldiers involved. If there are a thousand ways to die on a battlefield, Cornwell has thought of them all--and described them in extensive detail throughout the 4oo pages of his novel. By the time you finally get to the battle at Agincourt, which is nearly 300 pages in, even the most horrific images fail to impress. At this point, I felt little interest about what happened to Hook or Melisande or the other characters--only a sense of exhaustion and a "Must this go on? Can't you all just wrap this up and go home?" While I see this excruciatingly drawn-out description as a definite weakness in Cornwell's writing, I do have to give him credit: I think I was feeling the same mental exhaustion and disbelief that the soldiers must have felt, knowing that they had yet more fighting in front of them. Perhaps this was all intentional on Cornwell's part?
Despite the shallow characters and exhausting detail, the novel has one major redeeming quality: I learned an incredible amount about medieval warfare in general and about the specific confrontations leading up to and including the famous battle at Agincourt. Henry V is among my favorites of Shakespeare's plays, and I was truly gratified to learn more about the history and the brutal reality of Agincourt and it's preceding battles. I always prefer to glean my history from historical fiction or first-hand accounts rather than from dried-up textbook descriptions. Cornwell does an admirable job portraying the realities of life as a medieval soldier, and I feel I have a much more precise (and de-romanticized) picture of knights and lords and daily life in those times than I did before pushing through this novel.
If you are squeamish about depictions of blood and violence, or if you simply don't want to spend a dozen hours immersing yourself in such images, then avoid this book. But if you are looking for a highly descriptive ground's-eye glimpse into medieval warfare, Cornwell will happily and skillfully assist. As for me, I think I'm ready for a story about kittens or something else equally benign.
Tuesday, January 27, 2009
Statement of Purpose
Fortunately, this "Statement of Purpose" is somewhat more clear-cut (and doesn't have an arbitrary word limit). The goal of this, my first post, is to tell why I decided to start Illumine and what you can expect to find here on your subsequent visits.
Put simply, I love books. (Well, most books. I don't love Economics textbooks and I don't love dime-store romance novels.) I do, however, love historical fiction and fantasy. I enjoy biography and inspirational writing. I like books on Physics and books on kittens. I read teen lit and sci-fi and political thrillers and poetry. And many, many more. For the purpose of this blog, I will be reviewing mainly fiction, especially novels. But I hope to branch out from time to time.
Each week I will choose one of the new releases to read and review. (Books, like DVDs and CDs are usually released on Monday or Tuesday of each week.) Initially, I will choose based on my own interests. But I hope that my readers will weigh in and let me know if there is an upcoming release they'd like me to review.
I hope you enjoy reading my posts, and I look forward to seeing you here every week for the latest reviews.
Now, I'm going to pull out my most recent acquisition, Agincourt by Bernard Cornwell, and get to reading. See you soon!
-Sarah