Since I
started by blog, I’ve done an annual Advent Book Calendar highlighting books I
have enjoyed and authors I really like.
This year I thought I’d do an Advent Book Calendar with a twist; for
each day leading up to Christmas, I’m going to post a review of a book to which
I’ve given only one star (Throw a book at this one) or two stars (Don’t put this book in your book bag). Though I would not recommend these books,
others have disagreed with me. Each
book, on Goodreads, has received a 3 or 4 Star average rating.
Review of The Fires of Autumn by Irène Némirovsky
2
Stars
This novel
explores the effects of war on humanity. Set in France, it focuses on a group
of friends/neighbours from 1912 until the early years of World War II. Some
characters die; some grieve the loss of loved ones. At the centre is Bernard
Jacquelain whose life is used to most dramatically illustrate the theme.
Bernard
eagerly volunteers to fight when World War I breaks out. He rejoices in living
in “heroic times” believing that war will be a great adventure at the end of
which he “will bring back Victory.” Almost immediately, war changes him: “So
courteous, so shy in ordinary life, since he became a soldier, he gave way to
bursts of rage.” His mother thinks of him as a stranger: “She didn’t know who
he was anymore.” Bernard survives the entire war but emerges a broken man: “He
had aged without having had the time to grow up.” Physically he has few scars;
“Mentally, though, he had been wounded in a way that nothing in future could
ever heal, a wound that would grow deeper every day of his life.” He becomes
totally cynical: “He was nothing. He no longer believed in God, the immortal
soul, the goodness of mankind. He needed to get as much pleasure as he could.”
And “He had no respect for anything, not for women, not for love, not for the
ideas for which they had fought.” Between the wars his sole concerns are the
pursuit of pleasure and the accumulation of wealth. He becomes involved in
“crooked deals” which “had to do with procuring what was superfluous rather
than what was actually necessary, deals that fed on bluff, publicity and
expenditure until they reached the point where they worked endlessly just to
produce enough money to spend, and needed still more to make more.” Then World
War II begins.
I really
enjoyed Suite Française but I was
disappointed with this book which the publisher calls its prequel. The dialogue
is often clumsy. A wife tells her husband that she is pregnant; he responds
with “’Oh, no! That’s all we need! What a disaster!’” while she protests,
“’Aren’t you ashamed? What about me? I’m so happy . . . ‘” The tone is often didactic
with awkward comparisons: “It was war. This scourge on the immense body of the
world had unleashed great waves of blood. Now everyone could tell that such a
wound would not heal easily, and the scar would be ugly to behold.” The ending
is contrived; even with the reference to the “purifying pyres of autumn,” the
change implied is not convincing, especially since it seems to contradict the
theme.
I also
disliked the female characters; they are either “sluts” or totally loyal,
faithful and submissive. Thérèse, a major female character, is certainly the
latter; even as she contemplates marrying a man, she admits, “He is a good man,
intelligent, but I don’t respect him . . . He has no conscience.”
Suite Française is a masterpiece; this book is not. There is
too much telling and not enough showing. In the end I felt I had read a sermon
rather than a novel.
Note: I
received a copy of this book from the publisher via NetGalley.
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