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3.32 AVERAGE
3.32 AVERAGE
Gave up halfway through. Didn't care anymore.
Chances are, if you've read Mark Helprin's 1983 novel Winter's Tale, you loved it. It's even mentioned sometimes as a "favorite novel of all time." This, sadly, will be a dissenting opinion. I haven't not finished a novel since 2002, but this one nearly broke that streak. Finish it, I did, though. And I was relieved beyond measure when it was over. I don't mean to sound jerkish, but I really had trouble understanding the allure of this.
Here's what seems to be point of the book, as a character says near the end:
"He knew that, in the eyes of God, all things are interlinked; he knew that justice does indeed spring in great surprise from the acts and consequences of ages long forgotten; and he knew that love is not broken by time."
Another theme seems to be that we can't understand everything in the world through our senses, or science, or logic and reason. Okay. Fine. But it took us nearly 700 pages of flying horses and "cloud walls" and giant mysterious ships and people returning from the dead and incredibly descriptive descriptions (redundancy intentional) of New York City to get there.
If you're not familiar, Winter's Tale is often categorized as a "magical realist" novel, so weird stuff is always happening. I can dig it, and that wasn't my problem with the book. My problem was that it just felt incredibly overwrought, and ultimately, just tiresome. I really struggled with it. It reminded me of a Thomas Pynchon novel, without near the quirkiness or humor. It had a bit of the feel and scope of a Charles Dickens novel, only without the super intriguing characters and interesting, page-turning story. Or, if you like, it felt like a David Mitchell novel, but without near the smarts.
On the plus side, I really did enjoy the first 200 pages — which starts in the early 20th century and tells the story of an orphan thief named Peter Lake, who grows up with a tribe across the Hudson called the Baymen, but then is set adrift in New York City as a teenager. Eventually, during a robbery, he falls in love with the beautiful daughter of the city's newspaper mogul. Peter has various adventures in the city, including dodging the evil gang leader Pearly Soames, and his gang of Short Tails, who keeps trying to kill him and his beautiful white horse Athansor. But then, the story jumps forward to right before the turn of the 20th century and tells the tale of a number of New York residents, who all came to the city with their own unique origin stories and expectations of the city. And then Peter Lake comes back to life. And so does Pearly Soames, whose mission, for some reason, is still to kill Peter.
So, in a case like this (the only other example from my reading I can think of where I was so annoyed by a book everyone else loved is Cormac McCarthy's Blood Meridian), where I'm clearly in the minority, I'm hoping you can help. What is the allure of this book? Why did you love it? What did I not see, or understand?
(Originally posted at: http://www.thenewdorkreviewofbooks.com/2013/01/winters-tale-long-overwrought-tiresome.html)
Here's what seems to be point of the book, as a character says near the end:
"He knew that, in the eyes of God, all things are interlinked; he knew that justice does indeed spring in great surprise from the acts and consequences of ages long forgotten; and he knew that love is not broken by time."
Another theme seems to be that we can't understand everything in the world through our senses, or science, or logic and reason. Okay. Fine. But it took us nearly 700 pages of flying horses and "cloud walls" and giant mysterious ships and people returning from the dead and incredibly descriptive descriptions (redundancy intentional) of New York City to get there.
If you're not familiar, Winter's Tale is often categorized as a "magical realist" novel, so weird stuff is always happening. I can dig it, and that wasn't my problem with the book. My problem was that it just felt incredibly overwrought, and ultimately, just tiresome. I really struggled with it. It reminded me of a Thomas Pynchon novel, without near the quirkiness or humor. It had a bit of the feel and scope of a Charles Dickens novel, only without the super intriguing characters and interesting, page-turning story. Or, if you like, it felt like a David Mitchell novel, but without near the smarts.
On the plus side, I really did enjoy the first 200 pages — which starts in the early 20th century and tells the story of an orphan thief named Peter Lake, who grows up with a tribe across the Hudson called the Baymen, but then is set adrift in New York City as a teenager. Eventually, during a robbery, he falls in love with the beautiful daughter of the city's newspaper mogul. Peter has various adventures in the city, including dodging the evil gang leader Pearly Soames, and his gang of Short Tails, who keeps trying to kill him and his beautiful white horse Athansor. But then, the story jumps forward to right before the turn of the 20th century and tells the tale of a number of New York residents, who all came to the city with their own unique origin stories and expectations of the city. And then Peter Lake comes back to life. And so does Pearly Soames, whose mission, for some reason, is still to kill Peter.
So, in a case like this (the only other example from my reading I can think of where I was so annoyed by a book everyone else loved is Cormac McCarthy's Blood Meridian), where I'm clearly in the minority, I'm hoping you can help. What is the allure of this book? Why did you love it? What did I not see, or understand?
(Originally posted at: http://www.thenewdorkreviewofbooks.com/2013/01/winters-tale-long-overwrought-tiresome.html)
I thought I was going to give this book 2 stars. There are parts of the book that I found moderately okay, which merits a 2-star rating. Also, I am sort of ashamed to have listened to the entirety of a 27 hour 1-star audiobook.
But I must be honest. This is so many things I dislike.
If Craig Binky wrote a novel about New York, would it be Winter’s Tale? Perhaps.
It’s described as magical realism but the magical aspects are poorly explained & nonsensical.
There’s a lot of bro triggers. All the women are stunning. All the “love stories” are instant. Multiple instances of sudden gratuitous s*x that will have you rushing to turn down the volume in case your kid can hear from down the hall.
Most of the characters just didn’t make sense to me. What are their motivations? How did they suddenly develop this amazing intellect or ability or win pool in a single move? What about Peter Lake qualifies him to be a modern day savior?
The book is so rambling that I wonder if I just tuned out too much and missed some depth of plot or character development. But I’m inclined to think it’s a case of using word salad to disguise the absence of a point.
But I must be honest. This is so many things I dislike.
If Craig Binky wrote a novel about New York, would it be Winter’s Tale? Perhaps.
It’s described as magical realism but the magical aspects are poorly explained & nonsensical.
There’s a lot of bro triggers. All the women are stunning. All the “love stories” are instant. Multiple instances of sudden gratuitous s*x that will have you rushing to turn down the volume in case your kid can hear from down the hall.
Most of the characters just didn’t make sense to me. What are their motivations? How did they suddenly develop this amazing intellect or ability or win pool in a single move? What about Peter Lake qualifies him to be a modern day savior?
The book is so rambling that I wonder if I just tuned out too much and missed some depth of plot or character development. But I’m inclined to think it’s a case of using word salad to disguise the absence of a point.
Helprin's "Winter's Tale" is a trickster of a book. For years it languished on my "to be read" list simply because I couldn't figure out what the book was about. Having just finished the book, I'm still not sure what the book is about. New York City? Sort of. Love? Kind of. An amazing white horse? In part. So I sit here, unable to write a coherent review, because I'm not sure exactly how to evaluate the novel. One the one hand, it contains some of the most gorgeous and luminous prose out there. On the other hand, I was frustrated by the sense that all the protagonists were ciphers, none of whom I ever had a sense of as living characters. I continually felt frustrated, wanting to be pulled into the magic and feeling blocked by Helprin. The novel is beautiful, but ultimately, much like the mysterious cloud wall and the endless ice and winter, it left me cold.
OMFG I remember reading this book but never ever could remember who wrote it, and I lost, or either never owned the copy I read. I loved this book. The sense of gothic that pervaded it, the underground dankness, the glitter and light and carts carried by spiders. This is North American magical realism at it's finest.
Part ghost story, part fantasy, part rip-snorting adventure; I can't even begin to describe how by heart leapt just then seeing its title pop up while browsing for books.
Part ghost story, part fantasy, part rip-snorting adventure; I can't even begin to describe how by heart leapt just then seeing its title pop up while browsing for books.
This has been a long-time-coming read for me. When I started graduate school, I admitted to my adviser that I had so disdained living in New England that I had sworn never to move back east. This time around, though, I live closer to New York-- and he assured me that there exists a perfect book to fall in love with New York. He eventually lent me this book in the winter and, because of its length, I decided to save it for my summer break. I couldn't be more glad to read Winter's Tale now, when I commute into New York every day in pursuit (in some small way) of a perfectly just city.
The way Helprin writes is pure prose and beauty. The way he makes scenes and characters come alive is equal parts heartbreakingly beautiful, whimsical, and mysterious. I love a book that lets me crack the secrets little by little which Helprin does, but he also leaves a lot to the imagination. Even after finishing, I will be shuffling the pieces into place for a while.
Parts of this book are so dreamy that they are easy to get lost in. I feel like this is a book that I will absolutely revisit-- if not only for the pure beauty of it-- because it will be even better on the re-read.
The way Helprin writes is pure prose and beauty. The way he makes scenes and characters come alive is equal parts heartbreakingly beautiful, whimsical, and mysterious. I love a book that lets me crack the secrets little by little which Helprin does, but he also leaves a lot to the imagination. Even after finishing, I will be shuffling the pieces into place for a while.
Parts of this book are so dreamy that they are easy to get lost in. I feel like this is a book that I will absolutely revisit-- if not only for the pure beauty of it-- because it will be even better on the re-read.
I've decided to give up on this one. The writing is nice but the whole thing seems rather random and nonsensical. I really get the feeling that if I put the time in to finish it, I'll be rewarded with more of the same and no real idea about what the purpose was. In a way it reminds me of Pynchon's writing but I find his writing more interesting. A year ago I may have held out but I've had less time to listen to audio books the last couple months so I'm less willing to take risks.
I'd like to say that there's a chance that I'll get back to this book that many find so enrapturing but with so many other books to read it's very, very doubtful.
I'd like to say that there's a chance that I'll get back to this book that many find so enrapturing but with so many other books to read it's very, very doubtful.
Started out great and very Dickensian. But the more it dragged on, the more I wanted it over with. I've abandoned it with less than 100 pages to go. I'll finish, but I needed something compelling to remind me why I love reading.