Freedom Isn't Free...except at the Library

I have to admit, I decided to read Freedom by Jonathan Franzen, this oft-acclaimed novel by an oft-acclaimed author with much prejudice against it. It was this book that caused a kerfuffle in the literary world and sparked conversation about how women writers are not given their due as men are, even though more women are participating in writing programs these days. So, I kind of resented Freedom at first because it's by a dude, and sounded overrated. Another novel about middle-class white people by a middle-class white dude, hooray.

But I heard some positive things about it (or at least Franzen) from my co-workers, so I decided to put my re-reading of the Harry Potter series on hold, and give this book a shot. I was being unfair about not reading it, anyway.

And...it was well-woven web. Franzen can write an artfully crafted sentence, when he tries. Though at over 500 pages and with very lengthy chapters, it was easy to forget what was happening in the first place. Focusing on character development is an admirable achievement, but sometimes the reader can lost in pointless meanderings.

**WARNING: SPOILERS**

The premise is outlined in the first section, "Good Neighbors," in which we're introduced to the central family of the story: Walter, a rabid environmentalist; Patty, a passive-aggressive housewife; Jessica, their "good girl" daughter; and Joey, the spoiled but charming son. Life is mostly good, until their neighbor gets a new beau and Joey moves in with them. His smothering mother is severely upset (compounded by the fact that he's sleeping with the neighbor's daughter, whom she didn't like very much) and Walter practically bursts a blood vessel about it. This results in about five years of estrangement between the parents and son, with very little interaction between them.

But the real story revolves around Walter and Patty's marriage--a love story, of sorts. It appears at first to mostly have been a one-sided thing, with Patty lusting over Walter's best friend Richard (who of course is a musician...almost nothing is sexier) even before they started going out. Of course, they both cheat on Walter one summer by sleeping with each other. Freedom is, above all else, a character study on this couple and how their relationships and personalities change and affect one another as time goes on. This is obvious because the years before they met are confined not even to one chapter each.

At various points throughout the book, I found each main character to be very, very annoying. Walter was annoying because of his bottled-up rage at everybody, and having the hots for his assistant Lalitha (who in turn was annoying because of course she had the hots for him!), Joey was annoying because he was a selfish prick (though he learns the error of his ways), and Richard--the least annoying of the bunch, for he was cool and more honest than his bff (the second-best character)--annoying for giving in to Patty's advances and fucking everything up. Patty was all-around annoying at almost every turn, redeeming herself at the very end--like, the last chapter the end. I did not understand her appeal. So I didn't like any of them. Yet I stuck with these people for 500 pages, I guess the story was compelling enough. Though I wasn't rooting for Walter and Patty to stay together.

But--oh, man, the buts. Perhaps I was just looking for something to hate, but I didn't like how the main women were all typical, except maybe for Patty. And we get to see her as more than just a housewife and ex-basketball player because a good chunk of the story is told in her voice. All the other female characters are fuzzy and flat: we get most of the input about them from the main characters (e.g: thus, Lalitha is the sexy, earnest, hot-for-her-boss assistant archetype we've all seen before). It also irked me that Joey gets more of the spotlight than Jessica--we get his background and perspective, why not hers? Though now that I think of it, a lot of the characters were pretty cookie-cutter (see descriptions above). I also think Lalitha was totally fridged at the 500-page mark to allow for a nice, clean resolution. Yes, I didn't like her much, but I resent plot twists that pop out of nowhere in what is supposed to be "literary" fiction and not pulp chick lit (which is what this book would be if it wasn't so long and meandering and political).

The ending was...cute. Everyone kind of got what they wanted and found their happiness. Which is...again, cute. Perhaps not the feeling Franzen was going for?

Then there's the premises: a failing marriage, cheating, hypocrisy. Plus the freedom thing. We've seen it before in different incarnations. As I read on, I started to think, I'm not the target demographic for this. And I'm definitely not: this novel is more for college-educated adults in their 30s-50s, and grad students who have gotten over their experimentalist phase. Franzen is probably unpretentious, even down-to-earth, if we are to go by his in-depth portrayals of a "modern" American family (that's still white, middle-class, and patriarchal). This perspective is all too familiar to me, which makes the subject matter somewhat tired. Perhaps it's my youth, but I crave fiction that's new and different, in a way.

Which begs the question...why is the title "Freedom"? What does "freedom" have to do with it? There are several allusions to it in the book, mainly when characters are discussing walking away from marriage, plus the phrase "how to live" pops up frequently. As hard to define "freedom" is, it could be applied to just about everything in this novel--and that's the point. The freedom to fuck up and make up? To leave your spouse, your family, and still hope to come back someday? To do what you want? Probably all of the above. Obviously it's meant to provoke thought. But seriously, reading this book gave me realism fatigue. It's the only way to describe it. I don't want to think about this effing book anymore. 3/5 stars. Back to Harry Potter!

*In addition to realism, I will also be taking a break from book reviews for a little while. Maybe I'll put up some reviews about music, movies, or TV. Stay tuned.*

Beauty Queens is not as it Seems

Every once in a while, an avid reader's got to have some fun. Sometimes (say, during the summer) that means picking out a YA book and spend the weekend lounging in the park or on the beach to read it. This makes YA--and other "easy" genre novels--my summer reads of choice. A couple weekends ago (I've been busy OK) I read Beauty Queens, which hit bookstores this past June. The first thing that's obvious in the first few pages: the title and cover are very misleading.

The basic premise is this: a bunch of girls on their way to the ultimate beauty pageant are stranded on a deserted island after their plane crashes. Needless to say, most of them died. Though since this is a comic novel, the dead pageant girls are killed off in the beginning. That may seem like a Lord of the Flies with shallow, narcissistic girls, but it doesn't quite turn out like that. In fact, the surviving girls all band together and create a small, thriving community on the island. But, it turns out that the Corporation (apparently all real-world corporations combined) is operating a secret lair, of sorts, on the island, and is planning to deal the dictator of a small country weapons in exchange for greater market share.

Part of what makes this novel great is its over-the-top portrayal of advertising, celeb-politicians, and what I call "brand-masking" (the practice of making up a sillier version of a real-world product, place, or person, to avoid lawsuits or just for fun). But these are often staples of comic YA entertainment, camp and all. What really stands out about this novel was its fairly diverse range of characters and the thoughtful, progressive ways in which their issues were addressed. All the surviving girls confronted the limitations society imposed on them because of their gender, and they learned to be more tolerant and comfortable with who they are. There was also very little girl-girl rivalry, even when hot TV pirates were introduced.

Plus, each of the nine main characters (in addition to the five supporting girls) experience significant change/growth as people as a result of this experience, each going beyond what they all learned collectively and according to whatever issues/prejudices they came to the island with. Also, they don't all get boyfriends, and are happy with that. This sort of honest and thoughtful inclusion of feminist issues is not very common in YA lit, and it's great to see a novel that goes beyond the mainstream. The climax/ending are Teen-TV silly, but this is a comedy for teens we're talking about here.

That said, this is a perfect novel for a feminist reader in need of beach reads--or even for someone who could use some entertaining enlightenment (perhaps an aspiring beauty queen?). If YA that pokes fun at the very things that target this demographic are your thing, then you'll also enjoy it. I give it a (fairly generous) 4/5.

Invitation to a Beheading, by Vladimir Nabokov: Initial Thoughts

Vladimir Nabokov, a fellow I've written about before, has quite a broad body of work that extends well beyond Lolita. His work, from what I've read, epitomized the transitional period in the 20th century from the modernists like Joyce and Woolf, to the postmodern writers such as Barth and Pynchon. Nabokov's narratives are thoughtful as they are funny and entertaining, hardly containing self-seriousness in spite of of the grim subject matter. This novel, originally released in Russian in the 1930s, doesn't delve into the worlds of academia and American lovestory road trips, but rather very European themes relating to an absurdly oppressive and classist environment.

The person who is to be beheaded, Cincinnatus, is being held in a castle-like fortress for a vaguely defined crime of the mind. His captors refuse to tell him the date of his execution, and they and all the other characters behave in infuriating ways. But this is not realism, nor a fairy tale... the illogical and inconsistent framework of the world lead us to believe that this is perhaps a dream world--hinted at further with references to two Cinncinatuses. Whether or not the "real" Cincinnatus is imprisoned for a "mind crime", real or imaginary, is unclear in a first read-through. Of course, the dream-world theory seems perfectly logical when one thinks of her own dreams--and how, ironically, things that happen in her dreams often occur outside of her dream-self's control--even inexplicable things like your cell neighbor forming a tunnel through your wall and your in-laws lugging in their furniture with them when they visit. The story is realistic in its representation of surrealism.

One could say that Invitation is somewhat of a cross between Alice and Wonderland (with illogical rules believed to be logical by everyone but the protagonist) and The Trial (with its political themes and veiled critique of the justice system--as well as an unnameable crime). Both pre-date Invitation. Like both of these works, Invitation causes some confusion (after all, most of us are used to reading stories in which the worlds depicted follow some set of logical laws) and probably warrants a second read, ismply due to the strangeness of the world portrayed. I can see how this purely surrealistic structure did not garner a lot of popularity, even while the author was well-established by the time it was printed in English. But, as a fan of surrealism, I did enjoy it, and Nabokov's narrative style is never a chore to read. That was what really set it apart from The Trial--Kafka's grimness was often too deadpan for my taste.

The political themes were subtle; obviously, the bogus imprisonment and beheading-as-entertainment were comments on oppressive European regimes (such as Russia) but the story had a quasi-historical air to it (I kept imagining the characters in late-19th-century garb--plus the fortress seemed a helluva lot like a castle). If you read it, read it for its stylistic merits, and check off another book on your Nabokov reading list.