4 Stars
For lovers of John Irving like me, another novel by him is a gift indeed.
The protagonist/narrator is Adam Brewster. He is born to a single mother, Little Ray, who refuses to tell him the identity of his biological father other than that he was young and small; she chose him because she wanted a child with no strings attached. A ski instructor, Little Ray is away from home for half the year so Adam lives with his grandparents. The novel tells his life story, to the age of 80, and that of his family, with a focus on love, sex, and death. Throughout his life, he is surrounded by strong, independent, and eccentric women who shape his life: his grandmother who reads Moby-Dick and Dottie, a live-in nurse; his mother and her partners, the trail groomer and the little snowshoer; and his cousin Nora and her lover who communicates only through pantomime. Not surprisingly in an Irving novel, Adam becomes a writer.
Two sections of the novel, Adam’s two visits to Aspen, Colorado, are written in screenplay format. In his quest to find his father, Adam travels to Colorado because he learns that he was conceived in Aspen’s Hotel Jerome in 1941. What transpires in Aspen has a profound impact on Adam: “Screenplays are written in the present tense, as if what you see is happening for the first time. That’s why what happened to me in Aspen is a movie; it’s always happening, again and again, for the first time.” Unfortunately, I didn’t enjoy reading the screenplay format. The inclusion of characters who are ghosts also did not appeal.
Also as typical in an Irving book, the narrator is more an observer than an active participant; in some ways, Adam seems the least important character. For instance, what stands out for me is the fact that we learn very little about Adam’s writing. He narrates the stories of the significant people in his life and chronicles the changes in American society over the course of his life. He comments on events like the war in Vietnam but zeroes in on sex and gender politics. Homophobia and transphobia are depicted, and there is scathing criticism of the Catholic Church’s hypocrisy regarding sex and President Reagan’s failure to address the AIDS crisis. The U.S. is described as “a country of sexual intolerance.” I especially appreciated the comments about Trump - tracing his MAGA slogan back to Reagan and predicting his future: “’Trump is just another criminal – he’s going to end up in jail . . . Losers never stop whining . . . all Trump will end up doing is whining.’”
As expected, Irving once again champions sexual tolerance and acceptance of alternative families. At a young age, Adam is told, “’There’s more than one way to love people’” and “’if you truly love someone, you have to love everything about them. Even the things that hurt.’” Those in non-traditional families are consistently loving, loyal, and supportive, while those in conventional marriages often are the most unpleasant people. Adam’s two aunts, for example, are undoubtedly among the villains – their intolerance of any differences makes them totally despicable. That one of them is the mother to Henrik, an intolerant, gun-loving Republican politician, is not surprising.
This is very much a novel of character. All the main characters emerge as complex and flawed so, even if quirky, they feel genuine. Little Ray, for instance, is domineering and some of her behaviour is cringe-inducing, but her love and support for her son are unwavering. Her willingness to shoot a young man in the knee to prevent him from being sent to fight in Vietnam cannot but inspire the reader to give consideration to what motivates her.
Death features prominently in the book. People die of natural causes, accidents, murder, and suicide. Some deaths are expected and some are shocking. Some people return as ghosts, though others do not; some people see these ghosts, and others do not. There seem to be no rules governing ghosts. Though death always seems to be lurking, the main message seems to be that “’Death is only a launching into the region of the strange Untried.’”
As expected from Irving, there is also humour. Adam’s sexual encounters with inappropriate women are hilarious. And I will never forget Nora’s discussion of the hyphen in Melville’s Moby-Dick! Some of the scenes are a little over-the-top: a mute, old man suffering from dementia and wearing only a diaper being struck by lightning seems “noir” – but I guess that’s appropriate considering the discussion of noir fiction and films.
Readers familiar with Irving will find much that is found in his other 14 novels. At almost 900 pages, it undoubtedly requires someone willing to go the distance. At times, it seems scattered, but then the author may be trying to emphasize what is repeated more than once: in writing “you can’t leave out anything important. Lies of omission count as lies” and “Unrevised, real life is just a mess.”
I recommend this as a perfect book for the long winter nights ahead.
Note: I received a digital galley from the publisher via NetGalley.
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