Archive for the ‘Harper’ Tag
Barbara Kingsolver acknowledges a connection with Charles Dickens, which explains the many similarities between her most recent novel, Demon Copperhead, and the classic David Copperfield. Admittedly, I’ve forgotten a lot about the latter, but recall enough to know they both deal with contemporary social issues of their times. For Dickens, child labor, squalid living conditions and long-standing poverty in 1800s London were among the problems he addressed.
Kingsolver sets her narrative in southern Appalachia where Demon, an exceptionally reliable narrator, tells his life’s story beginning with his birth in a single-wide trailer to an unwed mother prone to addiction. If not for the kindness of neighbors, the Peggots, who temporarily and intermittently become his surrogate family, Demon likely would have ended up in foster care long before he did.
The topics Kingsolver focuses on include physical abuse, disarray within the foster care system, child labor, the elevation of high school football over classroom education and widespread drug addiction. Demon is a victim of these and more. Despite often making poor decisions – without consistent role models there’s little reason to expect otherwise – he’s intelligent and self-aware. He’s also caring and resilient.
Demon is artistic and a keen observer of his situation and those around him. His hunger in one foster home is palpable, as is his fear when he runs away. Besides the Peggots, a handful of other adults try to help Demon, but their rural community has access to ill-gotten pharmaceuticals with few resources to focus on their consequences.
Demon Copperhead
Four-and-a-half Bookmarks
Harper, 2022
548 pages, includes acknowledgements
I believe most fiction is tied to facts. Yes, The Cold Millions by Jess Walter is a novel. Still, its back drop is a fictionalized account of the timeless struggle of poor against rich, power versus powerless. It’s also about brotherly love, sacrifice and a desire for a better life when efforts are repeatedly thwarted.
Early 20th century Spokane, Wash., is inhabited by mining magnates, prostitutes, corrupt police and vaudeville performers. There’s also a small group of unionists and socialists struggling for better pay and free speech. Gig Dolan is part of the latter group and his 16-year-old brother, Rye, is less committed to the cause. Both are devoted to each other.
In addition to the lively descriptions, not only of Spokane, but Seattle and several squalid mining communities, Walter’s characters are vibrant. They include tramps, murderers and suffragists. The faces of many are covered with dust as if their existence is diminished by a lack of opportunities. Gig, an idealist, once dreamt of being on the stage; Rye wants only a place to call home. Partly due to age, he’s uncertain about the causes Gig champions. Nonetheless, he gets caught in the fray when riots instigated by the police break out.
Initially naïve, Rye’s transformation comes about not only because of his love for Gig, but through his own experience of being exploited, and his understanding of what it means when others put their lives at risk.
The era and location represent another time, but the struggle is ongoing.
The Cold Millions
Four Bookmarks
Harper, 2020
343 pages
The Redbreast is the third of the Harry Hole series by Norwegian crime writer Jo Nesbo. It’s also the fifth one I’ve read. Clearly, I haven’t read them in order. Initially, it was difficult to find translations of Nesbo’s books, so I savored them as I found them. He is apparently so in vogue now, that all ten, including a newly released novel, are readily available. At this point, I don’t mind the leap frogging. Nesbo has always provided enough backstory that I never felt I missed anything. However, what’s particularly appealing about The Redbreast is the introduction of the love of his life: Rakel, and her son, Oleg. Both figure significantly in the later books. But I’m jumping ahead of myself, literally.
Unlike others in the Hole series, The Redbreast is slow to build momentum. Initially, it was like being a passenger on a local train, with lots of stops, before finally getting on the express.
Nesbo’s story travels effortlessly between modern-day Oslo and World War II. The latter sets the stage for the underlying threat of neo-Nazism, which becomes the focus of an investigation Hole pursues. His efforts to discover how, and why, a rare sniper rifle was brought into the country lead him to several men who were Nazi sympathizers during the war.
Several parallel love stories emerge, as does a particularly sad one about friendship. All demonstrate Nesbo’s ability to evoke emotion while wanting to make sure all the doors in the house are securely locked.
The Redbreast
Four Bookmarks
Harper, 2000
520 pages
When I first picked up Faith by Jennifer Haigh, I almost immediately put it down. I was afraid it was going to further magnify the bull’s eye on the back on the Catholic church, which is already too easy a target for many. Yes, Haigh’s book is framed by the possibility of a priest molesting a young boy, but it’s much more than that. It is, indeed, about faith in its many manifestations: belief, conviction, trust, reliance and loyalty.
Old school Catholics, priests, families and perceptions are all deftly portrayed by Haigh as she tells the story of Father Art Breen, a quiet, unassuming parish priest whose primary vice is that he smokes like a steam engine. Father Art’s story is told through his sister’s eyes. Sheila begins with her step-brother’s progression through school, details his seminary years, his parish assignments and how he came to be accused of molesting a second-grader. Sheila also shares details about her family background: her mother who is a staunch Catholic unable to find fault with her church; her younger brother, Mike, who immediately believes Art is guilty; and her own conflicted thoughts as she discovers she is unsure who and what to believe.
The setting is Boston in the spring of 2002, just as the news of numerous molestation cases begin to emerge. The reader is asked to consider Art’s innocence or guilt just as his family struggles with this question. It seems so unlikely, and that is exactly what makes the possibility real.
Faith
Four Bookmarks
Harper, 2011
318 pages
Beautiful Ruins is a cinematic novel. It’s easy to imagine this story playing on the silver screen. It spans years and continents, relies heavily on the relationship between Elizabeth Taylor and Richard Burton, and features a strong connection to the movie industry. At its core, this is a love story, and a beautiful one at that.
Jess Walter’s tale involves a young actress, Dee, who arrives in an isolated Italian fishing village on the Ligurian Sea, where she meets Pasquale the owner of the Adequate View Hotel. Dee has been sent from Rome, where she had a bit part in the filming of Cleopatra. Dee is also pregnant with Burton’s child. Although it may sound like a blurb from People magazine, Walter imbues his narrative with deep feelings, humor, interesting characters and a clear passion for romance.
However, just when it seems the story will settle in the fishing village (the most interesting place) or even Los Angeles (because of the Hollywood scene), several miscellaneous locales are introduced: Seattle, London, Spokane, Florence, even Donner Pass in Northern California. Walter includes an assortment of characters, none of whom, surprisingly, are superfluous. Added, to this mix are different time periods: the early 1960s, the 1800s, and something more contemporary. The myriad of people, places and eras at first seems disparate, but they actually are essential what makes this such an engaging work.
Ruins are most often associated with architecture. Here Walter incorporates them into the erosion, but not extinction, of human emotions.
Beautiful Ruins
Four Bookmarks
Harper, 2012
337 pages
The Blue Page Special 