Hilary Mantel Wins the Booker!

Hilary Mantel just won the UK's very prestigious Booker Prize for literature! She won for "Bring Up the Bodies," the sequel to the extremely well-received "Wolf Hall," and the second novel of a planned trilogy. "Wolf Hall" itself was the Booker winner in 2009. The San Francisco Chronicle describes "Bring Up the Bodies" as a "blood-soaked Tudor saga." On 10/13/12, I wrote about Hilary Mantel as portrayed in a New Yorker profile, so I post this news about the Booker as a follow-up to that post.

"The Age of Desire," by Jennie Fields

How could this devoted reader of Edith Wharton resist a well-reviewed novel based on Wharton's life? Although I have read biographies of the great author, I knew I had to read this novel. And for the most part, I am glad I did. The biographical events are not "new" to us, but Fields delves into Wharton's emotional life in a revealing way. She focuses on Wharton's sad, depressing, sexless marriage to a man who had no interest in her writing and who was probably bipolar, and on her tempestuous but ultimately also sad and disappointing relationship with her lover, the younger journalist Morton Fullerton. She also shows the steady importance of, and support provided by, her longtime assistant, Anna. We are able to see Edith's life at a different angle through Anna's eyes. But the most conflagatory aspect of the novel is the portrayal of Wharton's sexual awakening, in her forties, by Fullerton. Fields brilliantly details the infatuation, the discovery of exciting new feelings, the constant awareness of the loved one, the torture when he doesn't visit or write, and all the other accompaniments of a great passion. At times the descriptions of these feelings (not to mention the sexual scenes themselves) are overwrought and repetitive. Variations on the theme "she had never felt like this before" are too common. And this reader wishes there had been more about Wharton's books in the novel. We do see some glimpses of her writing process, but not enough. But overall, I very much enjoyed this novel.

Hilary Mantel in The New Yorker

The New Yorker comes through again! I have said this several times over the years, but I am so grateful for the great articles in The New Yorker, especially those about writers, books, and related literary topics. In this week's (10/15/12) issue, there is a terrific profile of the author Hilary Mantel, written by Larissa MacFarquhar. Titled "The Dead are Real: The Imagination of Hilary Mantel," this 11-page article details Mantel's difficult life, her discovery of her love of historical fiction (NOT, emphatically, "historical romance"), and the intriguing contrasts between her contemporary novels and her historical novels. The former are bleak; the latter are full of life and richly reflect her love of the eighteenth century, and then of the era of Henry VIII. Her most well-known and well-received book, and the one she herself says is her best, is "Wolf Hall," about Thomas Cromwell, an advisor to King Henry VIII. "I knew from the first paragraph that this was going to be the best thing I'd ever done," she says. Personally I greatly admire her work, yet have trouble getting into it. I read a couple of her contemporary works, but they are so pessimistic, so savage, that I can't read any more of them. I also am not generally drawn to historical novels, even ones that are as highly acclaimed as "Wolf Hall," so I have not read it. Yet. After reading this article, I am tempted to read the novel. This profile of Mantel is riveting, and I am appreciative once again of the New Yorker's giving readers such well-written, compelling articles on writers and literature.

"Triburbia," by Karl Taro Greenfeld

Karl Taro Greenfeld’s novel's title “Triburbia” (Harper, 2012) seems to gently mock the hip Tribeca area of Manhattan in the late 1990s and early 2000s as more suburban than its inhabitants would like to admit. As the author lives in Tribeca himself, he is able to draw the area in loving, knowing detail, despite his (or at least his characters’) ambivalence about the neighborhood and all it symbolizes. These characters, after all, are proud of themselves for living in Tribeca. As I read “Triburbia,” I kept thinking it should be subtitled something like “Bobos Behaving Badly.” Readers may remember David Brooks’ 2000 book, “Bobos in Paradise: The New Upper Class and How They Got There,” describing a particular blend of the bourgeois and the would-be bohemian found in certain U.S. cities, especially New York. Greenfeld’s characters fit this profile almost perfectly. The novel is structured around a rather long list of characters living in Tribeca whose children go to the same school. The focus is on the fathers, although there is plenty of bad behavior to go around. These are not bad people, but they are caught up in trying to have both artsy cred and money/privilege, and it is an uneasy mixture. Most of the men are rather angsty throughout the events of the novel; the women seem more likely to just do what needs to be done without constantly second-guessing their status and decisions. There are many affairs, lots of drugs (especially marijuana), crises about children, and more. Much of the focus is on social class status. Near the end of the novel, with the decline of the U.S. economy, some characters become very anxious and have to make some big changes. Yet somehow they are all (some more than others, of course) cushioned by enough safety nets and back-ups that they survive quite nicely. The two main problems I had with the book were, first, that it was sometimes hard to keep track of all the characters, and, second, that sometimes the author slipped into too much exposition/talkiness about the issues. The novel, although enjoyable, is a bit precious, seeming to describe a very limited world. However, we know that what happens in New York is often an indication of what happens elsewhere. And as a San Franciscan, I cannot deny that we have had as many or more “bobos” here as anywhere else.

"NW," by Zadie Smith

Zadie Smith’s “White Teeth” bowled me over. What a window into the multicultural lives of so many in London! What rich, detailed writing! When her second novel, “The Autograph Man,” came out, I had a hard time with it. It seemed dry and – OK, dull. I didn’t get very far into it before abandoning it. But her third novel, “On Beauty,” was riveting. And I savored and learned from her thoughtful essay collection, “Changing My Mind.” Her latest novel, which has just appeared to huge fanfare, is “NW” (Penguin, 2012). (The title refers to a less prosperous section of London.) I heard that the novel was somewhat experimental in form, which discouraged me a bit; I tend to prefer my fiction the old-fashioned way (with exceptions for such transcendent authors as Virginia Woolf). I wavered: should I read it or not? But I did, and I am very glad I did. First, it isn’t actually so very experimental. One character’s – Natalie’s – section is written in 185 mini-chapters, most less than a page long, some only a sentence long. But this is easy to navigate and flows well. Second, “NW” is in some senses an old-fashioned British novel, full of plot and, especially, well-developed characters. It deals with social issues, which I do like, as long as a novel is not too didactic; this one is not. The novel tells the stories of four young people from the “NW” part of London, and their quite different fates. It also tells of the psychological cost of moving among worlds. Natalie in particular, the one who travels farthest from her roots career-wise and money-wise, yet chooses to stay fairly close to those roots geographically, is torn among her various identities until she doesn’t know who she really is. Her situation, and to a lesser degree her friend Leah’s, show both the good and the difficult aspects of moving in and out of different socioeconomic and racial settings. Others of their friends and neighbors pay even steeper prices as they become adults. Smith has said in an interview that from now on, despite having written about the U.S. in “On Beauty,” she will focus her writing on London, the place she knows best. Comparisons have been made to Joyce’s portrayal of Dublin; these are heady comparisons, but I can understand them, as the sense of place in “NW” is so intense, so knowing, so detailed. Reading “NW” makes me curious and eager, already, to know what Smith will write about next, and to read that next novel, whenever we are fortunate enough to have it.

"Tiny Beautiful Things," by Cheryl Strayed

"Tiny Beautiful Things: Advice on Love and Life from Dear Sugar" (Vintage, 2012), by Cheryl Strayed, might as well be titled "Tiny Jagged Pieces of Heartbreak." Strayed wrote the "Dear Sugar" advice column for the online literature-oriented community, The Rumpus, and this book is a collection of some of the questions and answers published there. There is nothing mundane or light about these questions; they are of the heavy-duty, worst-that-life-can-bring-you type. Sad and abusive childhoods and relationships, horrific losses, and terrible dilemmas are common themes. Strayed, also the author of the wrenching but ultimately inspiring bestselling memoir "Wild" (about which I posted here on 8/4/12), writes the most amazing answers to these questions. She is full of empathy, shares her own experiences generously, and gets to the hard truths of the matter. She always find some hope, some possible way out, but it is honest and hard-won hope, not easy comfort. The online and then the book format allow for long questions and answers, so each of Strayed's answers is a mini-essay, rather than the short, clipped answers provided in most advice columns. Readers will leave the book with great admiration for the way Strayed always -- although not indulging in Pollyannaism -- finds common humanity in every situation. This book is sad and hard to read, yet compelling and life-affirming as well.

The Fun Side of Feminism

Who says feminists don’t have a sense of humor? Gender studies graduate student Danielle Henderson, appreciative of but overwhelmed by the density of much of the feminist theory she was studying, took a break and went to the movies, and then started posting photos of Ryan Gosling on a blog, just for the fun and distraction of it. Soon she started melding her notes on feminist theory with those photos, and suddenly her original five or so blog readers turned into thousands. So she published a small (clearly stated on the cover as “unauthorized”) tongue-in-cheek book, “Feminist Ryan Gosling: Feminist Theory as Imagined from Your Favorite Sensitive Movie Dude” (Running Press, 2012). She admits that “There’s no way to tell if Ryan Gosling is actually a feminist….He hasn’t actually said anything in this book. But he is charming, talented, and intelligent; he has said some things in the media that can be construed as feminist. He loves his mom and takes ballet….It’s not too far-fetched, right?” The book has a different color photo of Gosling on each page, in each of which he has a different expression, tending toward the intense and/or sensitive. Each photo is accompanied by a short ostensible quotation, always beginning with “Hey girl.” The author likes the juxtaposition of the “Hey girl” meme with feminist-related text, calling it hilarious. “I’m not making fun of feminism; I’m having fun with feminism,” she says. Although the premise for the book is flimsy and whimsical, it is best to go with the flow, leaf through the pages, enjoy them, laugh, and maybe at the same time absorb or be reminded of some important feminist points as well. Following are a few quotations to get you started (unfortunately I can’t reproduce the photos of Gosling to accompany the quotes!). “Hey girl. All I want for my birthday is a subscription to Ms. Magazine.” “Hey girl. Is there a merit badge for transcending normative cultural beliefs about femininity?” “Hey girl. I believe Foucault’s theory of marriage is a governmentally developed tool that interferes with the appropriation of land rights and normalizes heterosexuality, but I still want to spend the rest of my life with you.” “Hey girl. Betty Friedan called it ‘the problem with no name,’ but I call it the patriarchy.” “Hey girl. We’d be more successful in reclaiming public space for women if we were willing to address the patriarchal fixtures that made it unsafe in the first place.” “Hey girl. Just listening to you talk about Patricia Hill Collins’ matrix of domination as an ideological tool that reveals the hegemonic social structure makes me thank my lucky stars for you.” Some of the quotations contain literary allusions: “Hey girl. You built a room of your own and a room in my heart.” Other quotes are as much popular culture as feminist theory. For example: “Hey girl. Being a guest on The Rachel Maddow Show might be a pipe dream, but it’s my happy place.” OK, so maybe this is dorky feminist humor, but I got a kick out of it.