Freedom....what's it all about?

Freedom by Jonathan Franzen was our Summer read, and first discussion for 2011. A long saga of a novel, by the author of Corrections, it follows the lives of Patty and Walter Berglund, their experience in American suburbia, their stumbling student days, reflections on their dysfunctional families, and the unwinding of their lives as their children head into adulthood.

Franzen certainly chooses a large canvas, and contains some satirical reflection on American life. Patty's reflection on her family where she always felt an outsider, is both humorous and moving: eg 'Patty's father, Ray Emerson, was a lawyer and amateur humorist whose repertory included fart jokes and mean parodies of his children's teachers, neighbours and friends' It also becomes tragic, where her parents don't want to dwell on her rape as it would disturb the status quo, 'Coach Nagel says I should go to the police ' 'Coach Nagel should stick to her dribbling,' her dad said. 'Softball', Patty said. 'It's softball season now'. Which Patty sees as a betrayal of herself, and a reflection of her parents lack of understanding of her life as a sports 'jock'.

Patty and Walter are both rather naive players in their lives, subject to the power and games of others. They are both drawn to the cynical, rock singing Richard, who has a power over them, but who in turn is drawn to their idealism and zeal. Perhaps Walter and Richard are two sides of the coin, and Patty is attracted to both, which forms a large part of the novel's plot.

I felt very engaged in the main characters, and could empathise with the pain and indecision of their courtship, the challenges of raising children, and the tensions of marriage over the long terms. Patty and Walter tried so hard to move away from their own dysfunctional family life, but succeeded in creating a son with completely opposite values to them, and in losing each other. He does however manage to create a very lovable screwed up couple who, we were pleased to see, ended the book happily.

We enjoyed the dialogue in the book, and considered Franzen at his best in some of the dialogue between characters. He gives the main characters fairly comprehensively realised psychologies, so that we really take a journey with them as they make mistakes, follow their hearts, and make new discoveries about themselves. He does also use the book as something of a soap box, talking about the effects of capitalism, war, environmental destruction, and at times the book seems mired in this preachiness, which is less successful than the realism and journey with many of his characters. Walter's interlude with Lalitha and the subsequent accident, did not work for some group members, seeing it as rather melodramatic.

Franzen describes his approach as 'tragic realism' and 'an antidote to the rhetoric of optimism that pervades our culture', which I thought an apt label. We discussed the title 'Freedom' and thought that the concept of 'Freedom and Liberty were much more significant in US culture. Franzen does question the value of freedom, and the rampant materialism, abuse of power, and impact on the environment that valuing freedom above else had. The characters too have their own quest to free themselves from their past, and to create new lives, to have the freedom to be individuals. Perhaps Walter was the character most prepared to work communally, but in the end he becomes a mouthpiece for capitalism and environmental rape. For some the title did not work. I came away thinking Franzen saw Forgiveness as a more necessary quality than Freedom, such that the characters in the book needed to forgive themselves and each other, to really be free to move on.

But I'll move off my soap box ... The group as a whole enjoyed the book, the characters and his humour, despite some meandering and overdoing the 'message' elements.

List of upcoming book-film adaptations

In this post at Ripple Effects blogger Arti lists books that are currently in the process of being made into films. They might provide some ideas for future schedules.

Of course, we don't know from this list how imminent they are but it's a start. There are some interesting ones here including:

• 1984
• On Chesil Beach;
• The book thief; 
• The great Gatsby (again!); and
• several other classics, again

If there are any books in Arti's list that we haven't read and you'd like us to consider, let me know and I'll add it to the schedule suggestions list in the sidebar.

More reading suggestions

Hi, Some ideas for future discussions:

It's probably worth putting down the PM's Prize Winner: Eva Hornung for her novel Dog Boy on our list of suggested reads for next year.

Also Booker Prize winner: Howard Jacobson, The Finkler Question 'a novel about love, loss and male friendship, and explores what it means to be Jewish today. Said to have ‘some of the wittiest, most poignant and sharply intelligent comic prose in the English language', The Finkler Question has been described as ‘wonderful' and ‘richly satisfying' and as a novel of ‘full of wit, warmth, intelligence, human feeling and understanding'.'

The Thousand autumns of Jacob de Zoet

Having rashly offered to write up our very enjoyable October discussion, I'm now attempting to come up with the goods. Eight (or nine?) of us gathered and enjoyed a literary evening followed by yummy chocolate cake. Kate was so anxious not to miss anything that she even rushed back from Cairo in time. Is that a record?
As you'd expect, our responses to the book varied. At least three of those who finished it had found it really enjoyable. This conclusion was tempered by the confession that the previously studied David Mitchell novel, Cloud atlas had been enjoyed at the time too, except no-one seemed to remember what it had been about. This fate couldn't befall Thousand autumns though! We mostly agreed that it had been a vivid, gripping experience being taken back to Japan during the Tokugawa Shogunate and stranded with the Dutch East India Company representatives on Dejima in Nagasaki Harbour, then taken up to a mysterious and sinister mountain shrine before finding ourselves on the deck of an English Man-of-War, creating havoc for all concerned.

Some of us found the cast of thousands hard to follow (and one of us was even driven to spreadsheet them all in her eagerness to keep up with the plot), but we agreed that the diverse characters were cleverly and engagingly created, so that we found ourselves in their heads and caring about them, and a couple of us had been moved to tears at different moments of the book.

There was the impression that a great deal of research and experience of Japanese culture was behind the well sustained authenticity of the world created, the invisible line between history and fiction, and we thought the novel was well paced and structured, with a satisfying, rather than anti-climactic ending.

We were impressed with the beauty of the language used and examples of the telling use of symbolism were discussed. The epic scope of the book was compared with Shogun, and the gradually revealed secrets of the shrine recalled The Name of the rose. Timeless themes were identified and discussed.

The comment was made that parts of the book were quite distressing and confronting. A more petty criticism raised was the misuse of the word "shall" by every character of every culture in the book, but nobody else agreed with me about that!

We thought the book would make a good movie, and speculated that the author had probably thought of that. However, on the basis of our discussion, a couple of us who hadn't finished the book decided not to wait for the movie but to get back into it forthwith.

Finally, I don't think even the fastidious Japanese could have queried the elegance of the tea sets that came with our yummy supper. Thanks Janet!

So much for that, by Lionel Shriver

Courtesy: HarperCollins Australia

Nine Minervans, including new member Sue (welcome, Sue), met a few Tuesdays ago to discuss Lionel Shriver's latest novel, So much for that. The book was not universally loved by all members which resulted in a lively - though always respectful of course - discussion.

But first, the plot. The book starts with 48-year-old nice-guy Shep Knacker planning to escape the American rat-race to his dreamed of, and as it turns out ironically named, AfterLife in Pemba off Zanzibar. However, his plans are overturned by his wife’s announcement that she has a rare aggressive cancer called peritoneal mesothelioma and will need him to continue working, for his health insurance. Alongside Shep and Glynis’ experience of health service and insurance – and told in roughly alternating chapters – is that of their good friends Jackson and Carol whose 16-year-old daughter, Flicka, was born with the degenerative disease, familial dysautonomia. Two more health issues are added later in the book: Shep's father has a fall and needs to enter a nursing home, and Jackson undergoes some, let's call it, male "cosmetic" surgery which doesn't quite go according to plan. The novel plays these situations, economically, socially and psychologically to their relatively inevitable conclusions.

All this does make it sound a little contrived, which was one of the criticisms of the novel. Another criticism, somewhat related to this, was that it's a little too polemical. Some felt Shep was too good to believe. And some thought the ending was a cop-out which undermined the polemics. Then, of course, there were those who disagreed with these criticisms and who thought that the polemical aspect was balanced by her addressing other concerns such as the psychology of terminal illness, the language of health, and the implications of the American dream (or rat-race) from which Shep, for one, wished to escape.

Oh, and there were some things we all liked - such as the scene in which Shep and his free-loading sister discuss their father's post-operative care, and the clever title.

Not surprisingly with a book like this, discussion roamed beyond the book into Australia's health system and fears that it is slowly declining into something more American-like, particularly regarding things like funding and equity of access. We also talked about such issues as over-servicing or unnecessary servicing. Who makes the decision when, for example, tests are really needed and should be done, when treatment is no longer worthwhile and how do we define worthwhile?

This is a pretty superficial report of our discussion, but my excuse is that it was a while ago now. Comments elaborating on these - or anything I've missed are most welcome from those who were there and those who weren't.

Quote of the night: Celeste told us that after having an MRI some years ago she thought "I was relieved to find I had a brain". What a shame she had to go through an MRI to discover that. We've known for a long time that she has one! She only had to ask.

Truth....by Peter Temple

Courtesy: Text Publishing

We decided to tackle, in August, the controversial Miles Franklin award winner Truth by Peter Temple, although none of us I think are crime genre readers as a rule. I think it took us all outside our comfort zone, and most found it somewhat cryptic and confusing to read. The main hero, Villani is somewhat stereotypical of the crime fiction/film noir character: a flawed and brooding character: good at his job, but somewhat stunted in his emotions and ability to form personal relationships. His outlook on life is pessimistic, and his personal life is coming apart. He is apparently attractive to women, has loyal colleagues, but with little time for the games and politics of the organisation.

Villani’s relationship with his father was one of the more interesting aspects of the novel, and gave some insight into his emotional limitations, his sense of responsibility and his somewhat terse communication style. A very male oriented book, it was interesting to see Villani and his dad, both fiercely independent, but with a respect for each other, and a shared love of the forest they had planted and nurtured. Villani’s doomed marriage, and his questioning of his immersion in his work were part of the self-reflections in the book, which focussed pretty squarely on this central character.

Two themes in our discussion resonated with me:

1. How authentic is the language he uses? The clipped, cryptic dialogue in particular
2. The pessimism in the book and the world it represents

The language
The language is deliberately brief with little background to set the scene or help the reader follow the action clearly. It seems intended as a challenge, to see if the reader can follow the many plot lines and shorthand references to other characters or situations. The question for me was: what was the purpose of this style? My husband who also read the book, and who likes thrillers did not find this one easy to follow. Was it intended as authentic speech for police officers, and the other tough characters in the book? Was it a version of the stylised language of the genre?

I admit to challenging its authenticity: it read like a pared down film script, almost a caricature of the style, not really naturalistic, but also something of a barrier for the reader to engage in the plot twists and turns. It was a relief when the first person narration took over as Villani reflected on his family life, as these were the main areas I could follow what was going on. Admittedly the language helped build the tension, and sense of small pieces of jigsaw being pieced together or sometimes not. However I question the effectiveness of this style of language in communicating with the readers..or with me at least.

The pessimism
The world of the book is quite dark, and his view on human nature quite pessimistic. From a police officer’s point of view this could be quite valid, as their focus is certainly on the darker side of human nature. Temple himself, South African born, comes across with a certain tough pessimism, and a sense of futility about society and those in power. The politicians, chief police officers, businessmen all exhibited a threatening air, and Villani was wary and sceptical of their motives.

Our discussion moved on to whether the group felt a deepening pessimism about the nature of society, the sense of personal safety and cynicism we have. This on the eve of a fascinating election, where the Australian voters have expressed a sense of cynicism in the major political parties, and a search for some more authenticity, or ‘truthfulness’ in their communication with the electorate.

I feel there is a developing ‘old fogeyism’ among my peers, which assumes society is becoming more violent, dangerous, and insecure. In this post 9/11 world my understanding is that the rate of murders is relatively stable per head of population. I made a case for an evidence based attitude, rather than hearsay and fear. In researching the crime rate in Australia, I noted that rates for many crimes have actually increased over the last 10 years for instance, but that our fear of crime has increased disproportionally, and not necessarily in line with our risk (eg those over 65 are most fearful of crime, but are least likely to be a victim of crime).

I did also notice that our murder rate which was reported as 321 deaths in 1995, is still around the same as the rate of 20 per million which was the case in 1916. Ah statistics....

Anyhow an interesting discussion, and Peter Temple’s Truth certainly took us to some new territory, and gave us fruit for discussion. Some group members felt that Truth was not as good as The Broken Shore, so I have put in a request to borrow Temple’s earlier work from the library to read next, and give him another go...

Solar, by Ian McEwan

Five Minervans met this week to discuss Ian McEwan's Solar. We missed those tripping in other parts of Australia (singing in the Red Centre for one, and sunseeking in Queensland for another) and those in their sickbeds. We wish you - you know who you are - a speedy recovery!

Used by permission of the Random House Group

A quick plot summary: Solar tells the story of aging Nobel Laureate physicist, Michael Beard, who at the beginning of the novel is overweight, at the end of his fifth marriage, and resting on his laurels rather than doing any useful science. As usually happens in McEwan, an event occurs which serves to alter the course of people's lives - in this case, Michael Beard's in particular. As it happens, he's not above a bit of dishonesty here and there to ensure things work out to his advantage. How that happens and how it falls out makes up the rest of the book. All this occurs within the world of climate change, hence the title.

The general consensus was that we all enjoyed the book, but some enjoyed it more than others! The two who loved it greatly enjoyed the humour and felt that McEwan's ability to write about anything shone through. The others of us agreed more with Kate's blog post on the book. We felt it was readable but that it missed the mark in one way or another. The member who phoned in a late apology was in this camp too - she felt that it was a good story but that it got lost in the technical details.

We all though did enjoy some of the humour, particularly the episode where Beard goes to the arctic with a bunch of artists (he is the only scientist) to see climate change first hand. Chaos and disorganisation, not to mention a little hypocrisy (as they rush about the ice in their gas-fired skidoos), abound and we are left wondering whether the climate change community is capable of coordinating anything that would be positive for the environment.

Some of us found the constant description of Beard's eating, drinking and womanising a little repetitive and tedious though agreed that he represents a good example of "the unexamined life". That said,  we also felt that Beard had his better moments, such as his ability to tell a story against himself (eg the stolen potato chips story).

We talked a little about the book's exploration of issues like logic and reason versus imagination, and also about McEwan's focus on middle-aged men. One of the members who really liked the book said this aspect of his recent books have put her off, and that it was the humour in this one which got her attention. Usually, she said, she prefers to read about middle-aged women. I suspect that's true for a lot of us.

Finally, we briefly discussed the last line and what it meant - but to discuss that here would be a bit of a spoiler if you haven't read it. We were in general agreement though that it was effectively open-ended: a couple of interpretations are possible but all point to roughly the same thing.

I don't think I've fully captured the discussion, so please add a comment if you'd like to flesh it out a little more OR if you weren't at the meeting and would like to add your 2 cents' worth.