Daily Archives: June 15, 2010

Beside the Sea – Book Review

You struggle to live as best you can but soon the whole lot disappears. We get up in the morning, but that morning doesn’t actually exist any more than the night before which everyone’s already forgotten. We’re all walking on the edge of a precipice, I’ve known that for a long time. One step forward, one step in the void. Over and over again. Going where? No one knows. No one gives a stuff. – from Beside the Sea, page 76 –

A mother takes her two children – 9 year old Stan and 5 year old Kevin – to a bedraggled seaside village. She wants her children to see the ocean. But, right from the start, the reader feels uneasy. There is something not quite right and the prose has a dark thread weaving through it which belies the innocence of the trip.

I wanted to put everything into them, I knew it was pointless, I wanted it to come with us, stuff from home, familiar things, thing you recognize as yours straight away. Kevin wanted me to take his toys, too, but I didn’t want to, I knew pretty well we wouldn’t be playing. – from Beside the Sea, page 10 –

As Beside the Sea unfolds, the unease becomes dread. This is a dark, haunting, and desolate story whose ending is projected long before the last page is turned.

Veronique Olmi’s novella is one about the fragile nature of relationships,  the love of a mother whose fears for her children put them in danger, and the sad spiral into mental illness. Narrated in the limited first person point of view of the mother, the story becomes a powerful exploration inside the head of a person who is losing their grip on reality. Olmi’s prose is beautifully yet simply wrought. It captures the bleakness of the sea on a stormy day and the isolation of a woman who has no one but her children. As mother and children navigate the town, they encounter other people – most of whom move on with their lives without noticing anything amiss or who fail to act when things seem wrong. Despite being surrounded by others, this family of three seems all alone.

I sped through this novella in just a couple of short hours. Although heartbreaking, I could not put it aside until I finished it. Compelling and horrifying, the book pulled me into the life of a frightened and unbalanced woman. Good fiction lets the reader stand in the shoes of its characters and takes them somewhere they have not been before. Beside the Sea does this.

Recommended for readers who love literary fiction and translated fiction.

*FTC Disclosure: This book was sent to me by the publisher for review on my blog.

The Penelopiad – Book Review

The gods were never averse to making a mess. In fact they enjoyed it. To watch some mortal with his or her eyes frying in their sockets through an overdose of god-sex made them shake with laughter. There was something childish about the gods, in a nasty way. I can say this now because I no longer have a body. I’m beyond that kind of suffering, and the gods aren’t listening anyway. As far as I can tell they’ve gone to sleep. In your world, you don’t get visitations from the gods the way people used to unless you’re on drugs. – from The Penelopiad, page 24 –

The Penelopiad is part of the first set of books in the Canongate Myth Series where contemporary authors rewrite ancient myths (other authors who wrote as part of this series include A.S. Byatt, Chinua Achebe, and Donna Tartt along with several others). In Atwood’s novella, Homer’s Odyssey gets retold from the point of view of Penelope (Odysseus’s wife). Atwood also gives a voice to the twelve murdered maids by allowing them to interrupt Penelope’s narrative with songs and even a play. I have never read The Odyssey, although I am familiar with this popular myth. Atwood’s interest in the story centers around Penelope – Who was she? What were her feelings towards the maids who died upon the return of Odysseus? Was she really faithful all those years? Atwood also tells the reader in a forward to the novella: ‘I’ve always been haunted by the hanged maids: and, in The Penelopiad, so is Penelope herself.

Penelope narrates the story from the grave (Hades to be more exact), and uses humor and sarcasm effectively to make her points. Other characters make their appearance as Penelope strolls around the afterlife – including Helen of Troy (Penelope’s beautiful and spoiled cousin), Eurycleia (the nanny when Odysseus was a boy), and one of the murdered suitors.

The Penelopiad takes a hard look at women’s rights (not a surprise for those who have read and enjoyed other Atwood novels). Atwood uses her sardonic sense of humor to explore how Penelope might have felt before and during her marriage.

And so I was handed over to Odysseus, like a package of meat. A package of meat in a wrapping of gold, mind you. A sort of gilded blood pudding. – from The Penelopiad, page 39 –

She also reveals the servitude and abuse of the maids who had no rights to their bodies or minds, and who were used by not only Penelope, but the suitors who pursued her.

We were dirty. Dirt was our concern, dirt our fault. we were the dirty girls. If our owners of the sons of our owners or a visiting nobleman or the sons of a visiting nobleman wanted to sleep with us, we could not refuse. It did us no good to weep, it did us no good to say we were in pain. All this happened to us when we were children. If we were pretty children our lives were worse. – from The Penelopiad, page 13-14 –

Atwood stands the myth on its head – pulling apart the story and rewriting it with a more modern twist.

You’ve probably heard that my father ran after our departing chariot, begging me to stay with him, and that Odysseus asked me if I was going to Ithaca with him of my own free will or did I prefer to remain with my father? It’s said that in answer I pulled down my veil, being too modest to proclaim in words my desire for my husband, and that a statue was later erected of me in tribute to the virtue of Modesty.

There’s some truth to this story. But I pulled down my veil to hide the fact that I was laughing. You have to admit there was something humorous about a father who’d once tossed his own child into the sea capering down the road after that very child and calling, ‘Stay with me!’ – from The Penelopiad, page 49 –

Atwood allows the maids to explain why they were murdered and they conclude their murder and rape symbolize the overthrow of the matriarchal society in favor of patriarchy.

You don’t have to think of us as real girls, real flesh and blood, real pain, real injustice. That might be too upsetting. Just discard the sordid part. Consider us pure symbol. We’re no more than real money. – from The Penelopiad, page 168 –

As with all Atwood novels, I put this one down feeling that once again Atwood has proven why she is one of the most brilliant writers out there. She is funny. She is incredibly thoughtful. She can string together words like no one else. Despite this, I can’t say this is a favorite Atwood book for me – which is no fault of the author. I am not a lover of mythology, although I enjoy the lessons about humanity which rise from it. So this was just an okay read for me.

Readers who love reading the myths and want a different perspective on The Odyssey will most likely enjoy this slim book.