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3.96 AVERAGE
3.96 AVERAGE
Entering a new era of progressive fem. lit, I often ask myself if authors like Atwood should be at the top of my TBR list when newer voices are out there. This novel quelled any and all doubt, standing as a reminder that Atwood is at the top of her class for good reason.
Taking the reader through a disjointed timeline of the life of an artist (othered young girl, misguided mother, middle-aged woman born again), Atwood so complexly weaves together the position of a woman through all phases and roles in life.
Were the callbacks to girlhood traumas and ever-shifting feelings of belonging harrowing? Yes. Were the monologues of the true function of a visual artist and member of society deeply perturbing and personally incising? Most definitely. This compelling narrative of a woman making her way through seasons of life, ephemeral relationships, and internal conflict has been done before, but rarely with as much concise poetic beauty and brutality as Atwood’s Cat Eye.
I will be re-reading this for the rest of my life, I fear.
Taking the reader through a disjointed timeline of the life of an artist (othered young girl, misguided mother, middle-aged woman born again), Atwood so complexly weaves together the position of a woman through all phases and roles in life.
Were the callbacks to girlhood traumas and ever-shifting feelings of belonging harrowing? Yes. Were the monologues of the true function of a visual artist and member of society deeply perturbing and personally incising? Most definitely. This compelling narrative of a woman making her way through seasons of life, ephemeral relationships, and internal conflict has been done before, but rarely with as much concise poetic beauty and brutality as Atwood’s Cat Eye.
I will be re-reading this for the rest of my life, I fear.
challenging
dark
reflective
slow-paced
Plot or Character Driven:
Character
Strong character development:
Complicated
Loveable characters:
Complicated
Diverse cast of characters:
No
Flaws of characters a main focus:
Complicated
I am not going to lie, this is one of my favorite books I’ve ever read. It was my first Atwood and I’m in love with her writing. I connected with Elaine far more than I should and I felt such a deep rooted connection with her and felt all of her pain. The ending had me sobbing.
dark
emotional
sad
slow-paced
dark
mysterious
slow-paced
Plot or Character Driven:
Character
Strong character development:
No
Loveable characters:
No
Diverse cast of characters:
No
Flaws of characters a main focus:
Yes
The protagonist of Cat’s Eye is Elaine, a middle-aged artist visiting the city of her childhood—Toronto—for a retrospective of her work. The symbolic nature of that event is evident, as the paintings themselves are retrospective of Elaine’s life, prominently featuring some of the more trauma-inducing characters about whom she reminisces as she wanders the streets of her girlhood. Elaine’s early life is scarred by a trio of mean girls, nominally her best friends, who subject her to harrowing emotional abuse. The book’s most interesting arc is the turning of tables between Elaine and the ringleader of these girls, Cordelia, whose presence is a constant psychological floater in the grown Elaine’s eye. As a child, Elaine weathers terrible abuse at Cordelia’s hands, in a kind of shock, not knowing that there’s any alternative to it. After a turning point, she learns to work Cordelia’s insecurities as Cordelia transforms from cruel child into dysfunctional, broken teenager. As an adult, Elaine roams the slightly alien, modernized streets of Toronto in a kind of terror that Cordelia will appear and exact revenge. And in a sense, Cordelia’s full-time residence in Elaine’s thoughts is her revenge.
This is all interesting enough, yet there is an indulgent or tired quality to it that makes some of it a bit of a slog. I so crave and appreciate stories about women of a certain age that I’ve been puzzled over what it is about Cat’s Eye that thuds for me, despite some characteristically beautiful writing. Some of Elaine’s childhood ignorance is unremarkable and belabored, so that you see her conundrums coming and become impatient for them to get over with. And the grown Elaine’s reactions to modern young people also veer toward the tedious. When I found myself growing bored with the book I had to wonder if it might have been fresher and more ground-breaking when it was written in the mid-80s; it may be that this particular story has been told enough times since then to lose some of its shine.
[Earlier review: Maybe more like 3.5 stars ... I'm still thinking, and will write more later.]
This is all interesting enough, yet there is an indulgent or tired quality to it that makes some of it a bit of a slog. I so crave and appreciate stories about women of a certain age that I’ve been puzzled over what it is about Cat’s Eye that thuds for me, despite some characteristically beautiful writing. Some of Elaine’s childhood ignorance is unremarkable and belabored, so that you see her conundrums coming and become impatient for them to get over with. And the grown Elaine’s reactions to modern young people also veer toward the tedious. When I found myself growing bored with the book I had to wonder if it might have been fresher and more ground-breaking when it was written in the mid-80s; it may be that this particular story has been told enough times since then to lose some of its shine.
[Earlier review: Maybe more like 3.5 stars ... I'm still thinking, and will write more later.]
Mean Girls for the literary types. Writing was great, but I just couldn't get into the story. Perhaps was due to the jumping around between time periods, so it never was enough to draw me into the story.
This book took me a while as I’ve been in a bit of a slump, some parts of this book were so captivating - particularly Elaine’s relationship with Cordelia. I wish there was more of that, I wish we knew what happened to Cordelia. But ultimately this is a book about complicated women and thus this book is also complicated and doesn’t fit into a narrative you want it to. I enjoyed some chapters - particular hooked around the bridge scene with the young girls - but lost me in a fair few which just seemed drab.
I don't think I knew the difference between cold and understated until I read this book. I often experienced feelings of absolute indifference after a sitting, then, upon picking it back up, had a physical reaction to the book, like my stomach turning in horror or (embarrassingly, just now, in the last thirty pages) bursting into tears. I'm not really sure how Atwood accomplished having a physical power over my reading experience. It's not that Elaine is particularly likable or sympathetic...I think it has to be that the narrative weaves together memories in a way that's so recognizable to me. No, I didn't play with marbles as a child, but I had my artifacts; I definitely have objects that allow me to "see my entire life" when I look at them.
But I didn't react so strongly just because I recognize memory in the same way this book presents it. It's also implied by how understated the narrative is that heavy memories paradoxically don't have to carry weight -- that you can look back on them and just tell the story of what happened. Like Elaine, Atwood doesn't only accomplish mockery in her depiction of her characters; she's "put light into them too. Each pallid leg, each steel-rimmed eye, is there as it was, as plain as bread. I have said, Look. I have said, I see" (427). So when my stomach turned or when I bursted into tears, it couldn't have been just a feeling of dread or sadness that I was overcome with; that would mean the book was trying to sell me dread or sadness. I must've cried from a feeling of relief: that the most overwhelming memories to us right now can be presented later with a mature competence we can't recognize at this point in our lives.
But I didn't react so strongly just because I recognize memory in the same way this book presents it. It's also implied by how understated the narrative is that heavy memories paradoxically don't have to carry weight -- that you can look back on them and just tell the story of what happened. Like Elaine, Atwood doesn't only accomplish mockery in her depiction of her characters; she's "put light into them too. Each pallid leg, each steel-rimmed eye, is there as it was, as plain as bread. I have said, Look. I have said, I see" (427). So when my stomach turned or when I bursted into tears, it couldn't have been just a feeling of dread or sadness that I was overcome with; that would mean the book was trying to sell me dread or sadness. I must've cried from a feeling of relief: that the most overwhelming memories to us right now can be presented later with a mature competence we can't recognize at this point in our lives.
I've never read a novel that so clearly and evocatively depicts the cruelty of young girls. I suspect that this book makes more 'sense' to women for that reason. I felt like I absorbed this book. I thought about it when I wasn't reading it, and I think about it now, long after finishing. The difficult task of managing the memories of the protagonist was superbly handled by Atwood, I thought. I felt equal parts mesmerized and disturbed by how eloquently Elaine could drag me into my own memories throughout. Fantastic.