Monday, July 30, 2012

Prodigal Summer by Barbara Kingsolver

Being a pretty sturdy Barbara Kingsolver fan already (I really enjoyed Animal, Vegetable, Miracle and The Lacuna and I love The Poisonwood Bible) I was expecting great things from Prodigal Summer. I was not disappointed. This is a truly wonderful novel.

Prodigal Summer is about so many characters, places and things, all created with Kingsolver’s usual skill and attention to detail. Everyone and everything, however, cannot help coming together in some way, whether they like it or not, under the inevitable power of the natural forces that govern the universe. It is really a story about connections. Whether it be Luna moths, coyotes, misunderstood children, or chestnut trees, everyone and everything comes together, leans on each other, and drives each other.

There are three point-of-view characters in Prodigal Summer, a young, intellectual woman living on a farm, a middle-aged woman who prefers to live alone on the mountain and study coyotes, and an old man, set in his ways and seemingly unmovable. Each of their voices is strong and unique, each is interesting and sympathetic, and each has a lot to learn about him or herself and about the people, places and things that interweave to create the physical, emotional and spiritual environment in which they live. Their habitat, if you will.

I love the theme of “connectedness” that pervades this novel. The story finds ways to tie each character to the others and there are constant strong reminders of how we are all connected to the natural world. Whether it’s how we are driven to reproduce ourselves, or what happens when we use large amounts of pesticides, or the results of overhunting of predators, we cannot escape the power of biological forces or the results of our meddling with them. There is also a strong promotion of healthy environmental practices throughout the story, so if you aren’t in favor of that, you probably won’t like this book.

Prodigal Summer was so enjoyable that I was sad to see the characters go when I came to the end. They were still in the midst of their circles and cycles of connections, whether those connections came about by surprise, had been there all along only waiting to be acknowledged, or had to be worked at and achieved. There was a lot more story to be lived, but I was no longer anxious or worried for them. They all seemed to be headed in the right direction and I had to be content.



A Year of Books I Should Have Read by Now

Tuesday, July 17, 2012

Smiley's People by John Le Carre'

George Smiley is after Karla, the Soviet spy-master again. It’s his obsession. His life. The way he defines himself.




He wondered, as so often before, how he would have turned out if he had had Karla’s childhood, had been fired in the same kilns of revolutionary upheaval. He tried but, as so often before, failed to resist his own fascination at the sheer scale of the Russian suffering, its careless savagery, its flights of heroism. He felt small in the face of it, and soft by comparison, even though he did not consider his own life wanting in pains.


Smiley’s People takes place a few years after The Honourable Schoolboy. Smiley is supposed to be retired, but new, and very troubling events put him back on Karla’s trail. The story is dominated by Smiley’s solo detective work, which he carries out in his usual quiet, unassuming and very competent way. Of course he has valuable resources, including his “people,” but, really, he’s practically a superhero. Okay, so not a very flashy superhero, but a short and pudgy one who polishes his glasses with the fat end of his tie.

I think that the characters who serve as “Smiley’s people” are not adequately defined as the folks whose talents are at his disposal. Several familiar characters from Tinker, Tailor, Soldier, Spy and The Honourable Schoolboy make appearances not just as Smiley’s resources, but as his protégés and devotees. They respect him – practically worship him – trust him, would do anything for him at any time. They even are happy for him when he is not happy for himself, celebrate excitedly for him when he cannot. It’s loyalty to Smiley that makes them “Smiley’s people.” He does not necessarily claim them as his own so much as they claim him as theirs.

This novel was so entertaining to read. It is full of nonstop intrigue and a sort of stewing, practically action-less suspense (another “heartburn thriller”!). It’s also characteristically loaded with Le Carré’s brilliant, engaging language, phrasing and descriptions. Light and succinct lines like, “Hilda was a divorced woman of some speed,” and “ ‘George has got too many heads under his hat’” (spoken with sympathy by one of his people) make this great story roll along even more enjoyably.  I was quite sorry when this novel was over. And I don’t think I’m giving too much away if I say that George Smiley seemed a little sorry that it was over, too.





Coming soon: Prodigal Summer by Barbara Kingsolver

  

A Year of Books I Should Have Read by Now