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beritt 's review for:
A Children's Bible
by Lydia Millet
I did not finish this, so I'm not rating it. I do, however, feel compelled to leave a review, because I read ca. 70% and that was enough for me to realize why this novel just did not work for me.
If you want the short version: it didn't work due to a combination of issues. There was a a multitude of characters, an unrealistic plot, a lack of emotional depth, and a lack of urgency.
The number of characters and lack of emotional depth are closely intertwined: it's hard to get to know everyone when there is a large cast of characters. But the issue already starts with the narrator: Evie tells this story, but I don't know who she is. She loves her little brother Jack...but that's it.
That's the extent of her characterization.
How am I supposed to care about a character I don't know anything about?
The same holds true for all the other characters. They are only described superficially - one is adopted (randomly), one has annoying little sisters, one is deaf. They all feel like cardboard cut-outs, so that I had difficulty keeping them apart.
More importantly, the story doesn't seem to go anywhere. It is a sequence of a events, without anything that drives the plot: we are all in a summer house. We are playing a game. We are bored. We are going on a camping trip. So what? Why am I reading about these people? What do they want, need, require? What makes them lie awake at night?
I truly don't know.
As a result, the story just kind of...meanders (that word is overused these days, but in this case, it really applies).
To give you just one example: the key event in this story is a huge, threatening storm.
However, since I'm not invested in Evie or any of the other characters, I just didn't care, and on top of that this momentous event is described very flatly:
"The storm hit full-force in the middle of the night. I'd lain sleepless on my pad on the floor, listening to the shudder of the walls as gusts buffeted them. So I was wide awake when a branch crashed through the attic window and kept on going, tearing part of the roof as it fell.
The power had been knocked out: flipping the switch did nothing" (61).
I'm really trying to analyze what is bothering so much here, and it is the matter-of-fact tone of it all. It's as if Evie is narrating all of this completely without any affect. She is emotionless.
Added to my frustration was the unrealistic aspect of the plot. I'll happily suspend my disbelief when I'm reading, but the story-world needs to make me believe that whatever is happening, could be happening.
That was not the case here.
Also, they stumble upon this guy Burl and just...decide to go with him? Immediately? Within a page or two? What?
Generally, I don't mind introspective novels, or novels in which very little happens in the way of plot (see Villette, or Pnin).
But I need urgency.
Without any sort of incentive, character-based or otherwise, the story falls completely flat, and that is what happened here. Why this was nominated for the National Book Award is beyond me.
Perhaps I would've found out why if I read the last 30%, but I just couldn't be bothered.
If you want the short version: it didn't work due to a combination of issues. There was a a multitude of characters, an unrealistic plot, a lack of emotional depth, and a lack of urgency.
The number of characters and lack of emotional depth are closely intertwined: it's hard to get to know everyone when there is a large cast of characters. But the issue already starts with the narrator: Evie tells this story, but I don't know who she is. She loves her little brother Jack...but that's it.
That's the extent of her characterization.
How am I supposed to care about a character I don't know anything about?
The same holds true for all the other characters. They are only described superficially - one is adopted (randomly), one has annoying little sisters, one is deaf. They all feel like cardboard cut-outs, so that I had difficulty keeping them apart.
More importantly, the story doesn't seem to go anywhere. It is a sequence of a events, without anything that drives the plot: we are all in a summer house. We are playing a game. We are bored. We are going on a camping trip. So what? Why am I reading about these people? What do they want, need, require? What makes them lie awake at night?
I truly don't know.
As a result, the story just kind of...meanders (that word is overused these days, but in this case, it really applies).
To give you just one example: the key event in this story is a huge, threatening storm.
However, since I'm not invested in Evie or any of the other characters, I just didn't care, and on top of that this momentous event is described very flatly:
"The storm hit full-force in the middle of the night. I'd lain sleepless on my pad on the floor, listening to the shudder of the walls as gusts buffeted them. So I was wide awake when a branch crashed through the attic window and kept on going, tearing part of the roof as it fell.
The power had been knocked out: flipping the switch did nothing" (61).
I'm really trying to analyze what is bothering so much here, and it is the matter-of-fact tone of it all. It's as if Evie is narrating all of this completely without any affect. She is emotionless.
Added to my frustration was the unrealistic aspect of the plot. I'll happily suspend my disbelief when I'm reading, but the story-world needs to make me believe that whatever is happening, could be happening.
That was not the case here.
Spoiler
There is no way that a group of ten parents (or so) lets a group of underage children camp outside in a tree house while there is a flood and a thunder storm. I don't care how high or drunk these parents are - there's no way that would happen.Also, they stumble upon this guy Burl and just...decide to go with him? Immediately? Within a page or two? What?
Generally, I don't mind introspective novels, or novels in which very little happens in the way of plot (see Villette, or Pnin).
But I need urgency.
Without any sort of incentive, character-based or otherwise, the story falls completely flat, and that is what happened here. Why this was nominated for the National Book Award is beyond me.
Perhaps I would've found out why if I read the last 30%, but I just couldn't be bothered.