The Tomorrow-Tamer - Margaret Laurence
These stories take place in Africa. In some the main character is British, in others African; in all the cultures interact. But Laurence is a writer of fiction – a good one – so we experience this troubled interaction through people and the situations they’re in. She presents very different ways of seeing the world, but she does it with the non-judgmental attitude of an anthropologist: one way is not right, the other wrong. Laurence is a Canadian, white, but the white characters are no more fully-realized than the black ones. She lived for many years in Somalia and Ghana. You can live in a place and not understand it; Laurence understood. I may have given the wrong impression by using the words “anthropologist” and “culture.” Human feelings are at the core of every story. My favorite is “The Perfumed Sea,” about two highly unusual lovers.

Akenfield - Ronald Blythe
Blythe was a novelist who wrote this sociological study of a small farming village in England, circa the late 1960s. He gives us the words of fifty residents; that’s what the book is, people talking. I’m sure the phrasing of the monologues was altered somewhat, though the minds that emerge are those of distinct individuals. We have insight into a variety of personalities, we get various (and varied) world views. A farm-worker, a wheelwright, a schoolmaster, a blacksmith, a thatcher, a magistrate, a sheep farmer – these are some who come forward to tell their stories. In the older folks there’s a remarkable depth of knowledge about their craft (the jobs involving manual labor are far more complex than I had imagined); also, they have intense pride in their skills. In the young, growing up in a time of mechanization, those qualities – depth of knowledge and pride – are disappearing. Though this is a sociological study, Blythe captures the complexity and scope of life in its two forms – that of the community and that of each of the fifty individuals. He does so in an absorbing and unobtrusive way. But, like so many skilled craftsmen, writers of his caliber are disappearing. It’s sad to think of that; but every bit as sad to think that there’s no one to whom I can give this book – no one is interested in Akenfield or Akenfield. So I’ll close (in resignation) with the last words from the last person to speak – the gravedigger: “I want to be cremated and my ashes thrown in the air. Straight from the flame to the wind, and let that be that.” *

Apartment in Athens - Glenway Wescott
Written in 1945, this is anti-Nazi propaganda. Which is no criticism; we need propaganda in time of war. My gut reaction shows how well Wescott succeeded: I hated Kalter, the German who confiscates the home of a Greek family and ultimately destroys their lives. But the book is more than propaganda. It’s primarily an exploration of the thoughts and emotions of the four member of the Helianos family, particularly the husband and wife. In many ways the marriage of this mismatched couple has been rocky; but, partly due to the stress of their German visitor, the bond between them deepens. Who writes about lovers approaching old age, long-married, aware of the faults of the other, no longer physically attractive, no longer feeling sexual desire? Mr. and Mrs. Helianos are not heroic in a conventional sense, but Wescott has written a book of heroism. What triumphs is simple love. *

Shards of Memory - Ruth Prawer Jhabvala

Difficulty in recognizing who’s telling the story (I never figured this out), too many characters (every one of them odd), no focus (what’s this all about?), and for the first hundred pages the characters don’t come to life (wooden, or, in the case of the Master, contrived; I never accepted the power he had over people). Then Henry is in a car accident and becomes a cripple. Suddenly everybody is set into motion – they seem to have life breathed into them. The late-blooming love between Baby and Graeme is poignant, and I wanted the relationship between Henry and Vera to work. So I cared. But, still, the author never had full control of her material; at the end she leaves all sorts of important matters unresolved. Much is missing in this novel; but of what’s there, some is quite effective.

The Grandmothers - Glenway Wescott

Although I’m interested in pioneer life, I abandoned this novel at the halfway point because it annoyed and bored me. A poet living in Europe is recalling his youth; as a boy he was obsessively (and implausibly) interested in his family. He tells their stories. One after another they line up – here’s Great-Aunt Nancy, here’s Great-Uncle Leander – and the poet, with his great power of perception, enters the consciousness of each. It rang false – and pretentious. Also, there’s a fussy tidiness about the book – the perfect prose, the lives proceeding in a stately way from youth to old age and death. This book has a premise of authenticity, but I think the author was deluding himself. At age twenty-six Wescott hadn’t yet found his true subject, nor his voice.

The Private Memoirs and Confessions of a Justified Sinner - James Hogg

Hogg was born in1770; the brooding, feverish way he deals with religious matters sprang from a mind foreign to us. His main character believes that he’s been chosen by God, before time began, to be one of the anointed. Thus he can do no wrong. What is the nature of this Chosen One? Robert is morally corrupt, despicable in every way. After being told the expected news of his anointment, a strange young man attaches himself to Robert; we soon realize that he’s the devil. They commit terrible acts. At the end redemption comes to Robert in the form of suffering; he’s wracked by doubts, besieged by demons, shunned by all humans. He’s in hell. This can be seen as a critique of religion – or, rather, religious fanaticism. However, it goes on too long; my fascination turned to distaste. I wanted to be free of the craziness. Yet I persisted to the last dismal page. An ugly book, almost repulsive. Amen.

Confidence Africaine - Roger Martin du Gard (French)
Very strange, beginning with the fact that this hardbound novel is an 8000 word story. And is it fiction? The author/narrator frames it as a true story told to him. Then there’s the subject matter: incest. Pains are made to present it in an ordinary light, as something understandable, almost inevitable. No censure or guilt. Passions are involved, but they’re related in a detached, clinical way, as mere facts leading to sexual relations between a brother and sister. We aren’t in the event but observing it from outside. The author is like a doctor describing a case of interest. But Martin du Gard is a novelist; he made choices, and they were sound ones. The oddity of the story and the way it’s told create an uneasiness in the reader. The inner story is hidden, but we sense it lurking in the shadows. On the last page, in the last paragraph, the author goes into those shadows; in this powerful (and artful, passionate) moment I felt, forcefully, the ugliness coiled at the heart of the matter. *

Good-bye Wisconsin - Glenway Wescott
This book illustrates the perils of over-writing, over-thinking. Wescott worked so hard at creating gorgeous and complex prose, finding the original and striking metaphor or simile, that it becomes a burden to read him. As for the deep thinking – emotions are followed through their intricacies, profound matters are explored. It’s fine to do this, but it should be embedded in a plot and characters, not imposed on them. The only story that succeeds completely is about people who are stupid – “The Runaways.” Since they’re stupid, Wescott was limited; and, despite his talent, he needed limitations.

Selected Tales of Ivan Turgenev (Russian)
Some of these tales are from A Hunter’s Sketches, and I won’t be reading that book. They are indeed sketches, with an overabundance of description (right down to the smallest mole on a person’s face) but no plot – someone does something, the story ends. The three novellas, on the other hand, are fully fleshed out works. In “First Love” and “Clara Milich” Turgenev tried to capture the dawn of love and the emptiness at its loss. A difficult task, and for me he didn’t quite succeed; I understood the feelings being experienced by the characters but I wasn’t emotionally involved. I thought “Mumu” might be the best of the lot until Gerasim kills his dog – which wasn’t part of the true story that Turgenev based the work on; in his alternate version the act is motiveless and thus alienating.