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3.83 AVERAGE
3.83 AVERAGE
informative
reflective
slow-paced
Plot or Character Driven:
Character
Strong character development:
Complicated
Loveable characters:
Complicated
Diverse cast of characters:
Yes
Flaws of characters a main focus:
Yes
Can I give it 6+ stars, please? After finishing this book, I am convinced Zadie Smith is an absolute genius. Her writing is beyond complex, witty, deep, smart, and to find out she was writing this novel at 22? This is incomprehensible!
I loved this book, loved the writing even more, and now a huge Zadie Smith fan.
I loved this book, loved the writing even more, and now a huge Zadie Smith fan.
challenging
funny
informative
medium-paced
Plot or Character Driven:
Character
Strong character development:
Yes
Loveable characters:
Yes
Diverse cast of characters:
Yes
Flaws of characters a main focus:
Yes
slow-paced
Plot or Character Driven:
A mix
Strong character development:
Complicated
Loveable characters:
Complicated
Diverse cast of characters:
Yes
Flaws of characters a main focus:
Yes
funny
informative
slow-paced
Plot or Character Driven:
Character
Strong character development:
Yes
Loveable characters:
No
Diverse cast of characters:
Yes
Flaws of characters a main focus:
N/A
challenging
tense
slow-paced
Plot or Character Driven:
Character
Strong character development:
Yes
Loveable characters:
No
Diverse cast of characters:
Yes
We read this for my book club, as a "modern classic."
I basically hate-read it. I hated the characters. I hated everything they did. I hated just about everything about their situations. It's talented writing; Smith lays bare all the flaws in her characters, while somehow avoiding revealing anything sympathetic that might make you like them at all. So often, authors let you grow to like the characters, to make you root for them. Not in this novel.
Smith's writing is amazing, and I was compelled to keep reading for the payoff. I'm not sure what that payoff was. It certainly wasn't personal growth for the characters, or happiness.
I would read this for a few hours each night, and then read something light and fluffy as a palate cleanser.
I basically hate-read it. I hated the characters. I hated everything they did. I hated just about everything about their situations. It's talented writing; Smith lays bare all the flaws in her characters, while somehow avoiding revealing anything sympathetic that might make you like them at all. So often, authors let you grow to like the characters, to make you root for them. Not in this novel.
Smith's writing is amazing, and I was compelled to keep reading for the payoff. I'm not sure what that payoff was. It certainly wasn't personal growth for the characters, or happiness.
I would read this for a few hours each night, and then read something light and fluffy as a palate cleanser.
dark
funny
medium-paced
Plot or Character Driven:
Character
Strong character development:
Yes
Loveable characters:
Complicated
Diverse cast of characters:
Yes
Flaws of characters a main focus:
Yes
informative
reflective
medium-paced
Plot or Character Driven:
A mix
Strong character development:
Complicated
Loveable characters:
Complicated
Diverse cast of characters:
Yes
Flaws of characters a main focus:
Yes
But it makes an immigrant laugh to hear the fears of the nationalist, scared of infection, penetration, miscegenation, when this is small fry, peanuts, compared to what the immigrant fears - dissolution, disappearance.
As the husband of a daughter of immigrants, I've played my part in this dissolution. This fear is an ever-present reality at Sunday dinners, as we chow down on cuisine from "back home," and I fumble to express my gratitude for a passed plate of malfoof with reprehensible pronunciation.
My own roots seem to have dissolved beneath me. I have little-to-no knowledge of my heritage. My family name is no help either. It means "German" in Italian. Which one is it?
And then you begin to give up the very idea of belonging. Suddenly this thing, this belonging, it seems like some long, dirty lie... and I begin to believe that birthplaces are accidents, that everything is an accident. But if you believe that, where do you go? What do you do? What does anything matter?
As Samad described this dystopia with a look of horror, Irie was ashamed to find that the land of accidents sounded like paradise to her. Sounded like freedom.
I don't know if these views are reconcilable. My suspicion is that Irie and Samad will never to see eye-to-eye. But I think what Zmith is trying to show us is that they don't have to be reconcilable. They can coexist. We can coexist. Maybe even - as she puts it - become involved? Actually, her point seems to be that involvement is inevitable.
I can't help but not care about a heritage thats existence is and has always been invisible to me. My existence does seem accidental. There is no story about these strange German Italians or Italian Germans reaching far back into the past for me to trace up to the present moment. But I can certainly see how if I had built my identity around a narrative heritage, there'd be claw marks all over anyone who'd attempt to change that story. I'd have to get involved.
As the husband of a daughter of immigrants, I've played my part in this dissolution. This fear is an ever-present reality at Sunday dinners, as we chow down on cuisine from "back home," and I fumble to express my gratitude for a passed plate of malfoof with reprehensible pronunciation.
My own roots seem to have dissolved beneath me. I have little-to-no knowledge of my heritage. My family name is no help either. It means "German" in Italian. Which one is it?
And then you begin to give up the very idea of belonging. Suddenly this thing, this belonging, it seems like some long, dirty lie... and I begin to believe that birthplaces are accidents, that everything is an accident. But if you believe that, where do you go? What do you do? What does anything matter?
As Samad described this dystopia with a look of horror, Irie was ashamed to find that the land of accidents sounded like paradise to her. Sounded like freedom.
I don't know if these views are reconcilable. My suspicion is that Irie and Samad will never to see eye-to-eye. But I think what Zmith is trying to show us is that they don't have to be reconcilable. They can coexist. We can coexist. Maybe even - as she puts it - become involved? Actually, her point seems to be that involvement is inevitable.
I can't help but not care about a heritage thats existence is and has always been invisible to me. My existence does seem accidental. There is no story about these strange German Italians or Italian Germans reaching far back into the past for me to trace up to the present moment. But I can certainly see how if I had built my identity around a narrative heritage, there'd be claw marks all over anyone who'd attempt to change that story. I'd have to get involved.
A letdown.
With all of the attention it gained and its status as one of the …important? Contemporary novels - I was let down.
You can see why it was/is received warmly with the portrait of Britain it depicts. But I wasn’t in it you know? Sometimes it grabbed me but then let me go again, like small waves. The ending seemed constructed well as the culmination it was but again, I didn’t much care. It was ok… 2 stars seem too few and three too much?
With all of the attention it gained and its status as one of the …important? Contemporary novels - I was let down.
You can see why it was/is received warmly with the portrait of Britain it depicts. But I wasn’t in it you know? Sometimes it grabbed me but then let me go again, like small waves. The ending seemed constructed well as the culmination it was but again, I didn’t much care. It was ok… 2 stars seem too few and three too much?