Thursday, May 03, 2012
Franzen
Have now completed my second tome from this master of contemporary literature, entitled 'Freedom', having read 'Corrections' previously.
A rather long book but I got through it at a reasonable pace. Not too many longueurs. The attention paid to the gruesome details of North American sex reminded me of Houellebecq (see for example 3rd February last) and while it did rise above pornography, I prefer my books to be softer focus about such matters. Quite enough gritty realism in real life these days; a taste which copies across to the television with my much preferring the banal mysteries of Poirot to their contemporary equivalents.
I wonder what sort of a person would write such stuff and am reminded of a comment about Joyce's 'Ulysses' to the effect that it might be a great novel but the sort of person who could write such stuff must be very odd indeed. Better known through the medium of his writing than in the flesh.
That apart, plenty of entertaining material and comment on the contemporary (mainly middle class) scene in the US - including quite a lot of stuff on how Bush feathered the nests of his cronies, not least by providing superb opportunities for profiteering in Iraq. Plus quite a lot of stuff on the eco-scene and the eco-warriors. Material which is probably all the more entertaining for being foreign; the same sort of material about the UK would have nothing like the same piquancy. Probably also prefer to have fun poked at others rather than my own. Patriotic to that extent.
Despite having read the book all the way through, I have no idea why the book is called Freedom. Perhaps one is free to invent reasons. Freedom is just a label, about as significant as calling a quintet a trout: one has to have a title so Franzen or his publisher obliges. But should one be able to condense the content of a novel into one or two words? Should the title be more than a label? I shall ponder while the smoked haddock simmers.
PS: interested to read yesterday about the earnings of the brother of the man who worries about the economy on behalf of the party which used to worry about the needs and aspirations of the working man. OK, so the brother is no doubt a worker too, probably a very hard worker. But he is also a successful player in one of the extractive industries, that is to say one of those industries which somehow manage to extract a huge number of currants out of the communal puddings to pay their chaps, despite it being quite unclear how many puddings they are contributing or how much pudding, with or without currants, is left for the rest of us, working away in other kinds of industries, maybe productive.
A rather long book but I got through it at a reasonable pace. Not too many longueurs. The attention paid to the gruesome details of North American sex reminded me of Houellebecq (see for example 3rd February last) and while it did rise above pornography, I prefer my books to be softer focus about such matters. Quite enough gritty realism in real life these days; a taste which copies across to the television with my much preferring the banal mysteries of Poirot to their contemporary equivalents.
I wonder what sort of a person would write such stuff and am reminded of a comment about Joyce's 'Ulysses' to the effect that it might be a great novel but the sort of person who could write such stuff must be very odd indeed. Better known through the medium of his writing than in the flesh.
That apart, plenty of entertaining material and comment on the contemporary (mainly middle class) scene in the US - including quite a lot of stuff on how Bush feathered the nests of his cronies, not least by providing superb opportunities for profiteering in Iraq. Plus quite a lot of stuff on the eco-scene and the eco-warriors. Material which is probably all the more entertaining for being foreign; the same sort of material about the UK would have nothing like the same piquancy. Probably also prefer to have fun poked at others rather than my own. Patriotic to that extent.
Despite having read the book all the way through, I have no idea why the book is called Freedom. Perhaps one is free to invent reasons. Freedom is just a label, about as significant as calling a quintet a trout: one has to have a title so Franzen or his publisher obliges. But should one be able to condense the content of a novel into one or two words? Should the title be more than a label? I shall ponder while the smoked haddock simmers.
PS: interested to read yesterday about the earnings of the brother of the man who worries about the economy on behalf of the party which used to worry about the needs and aspirations of the working man. OK, so the brother is no doubt a worker too, probably a very hard worker. But he is also a successful player in one of the extractive industries, that is to say one of those industries which somehow manage to extract a huge number of currants out of the communal puddings to pay their chaps, despite it being quite unclear how many puddings they are contributing or how much pudding, with or without currants, is left for the rest of us, working away in other kinds of industries, maybe productive.
# posted by Jim @ 12:39 AM 
