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A review by polnocna
The Marriage of Sticks by Jonathan Carroll
5.0
This book disappointed me at first. Then it angered me. Then it resonated with me. Then it hit me. unapologetically. Then it made me laugh at myself. And that's precisely the ingenuity of this book, I believe.
It hits you hard between the eyes and there is no escaping from certain realisations. You either are one of the people with "Whoever dies with most toys, wins" T-shirt, or you're not. (this was a spoiler/quote) Or - it's time to choose. It's always time to chose, in fact. And nothing feels safe, until you do. That's how our lives work. Tick, tock :)
I have struggled with this book. I put it aside for a year, half through it, before I came back to it, and boy, am I glad that I have...
At first, it felt bleak, forced, pointless and weird ... mildly entertaining without any particular reason.
Until almost at the end, when everything changed for me: Miranda talks to Frances at the hospice/hospital, finally painfully aware of what is going on with her life, and confronted with the selfishness of her many pointless lives. It's there where the magic of this story happens. Many lives might be a symbol for the fact that when we interact with other people, all the things we do - can and will change THEIR lives for better or worse. This way we metaphorically live many lives. People say Carroll's failed, because Miranda is not more selfish that any of us. I say that's PRECISELY his point. We are Miranda. Our everyday egocentrism is vampiric in its nature and we do eat each other alive, and put ourselves first for most of our young lives. That's how we survive as species. Until one day we are confronted with something way bigger then ourselves, and we have to make a choice. Some of us have, some were waiting to make it, some struggle with it, and yet some choose to not change anything and just walk over and past it and continue the empty, selfish life of theirs. Filled to the brim by themselves and their own importance, but with no real place for others. This is how I see the allegory of vampirism that he's using. It's spot on. How many people do we meet every single day, who behave as if they were immortal, as if nobody else mattered, as if they had unlimited time, unlimited chances ready and waiting? As if everything in this world was theirs, because they live in the bubble of believing they deserve it? It's the same people who suck us dry, who walk through us, leaving us feelig empty, berieved, cheated, worse off?
And I strongly believe that Carroll chose a female protagonist not by accident, and absolutely not driven by misogyny. He chose a female, because women have more to give. They have more potential. And they are faced with LOTS more choices in lives, then most men. And they often suffer more. By their very nature, women will on and on be required to choose to sacrifice themselves selflessly for another beings. And yes, it can feel like disappearing, like giving away ones life, if it's a sacrifice big enough, like it is in case of own children, Carroll hasn't even use an allegory here, it's staring right in our faces, in form of Miranda's pregnancy and her acknowledgement of standing in front of some very hard life changes and choices. Will she love her daughter as an extension, a part of herself, as something that completes who she is, thus taking twice as much of her as she gives? Or will her love be an unconditional, selfless gift, an acknowledgement of her daughter's individuality? A sacrifice of giving her life away to another human being? Loving someone else more than she loved herself? Is she even capable of it, at this point of her life? Does she even understand what it means, and what she has to do? I don't think so, at this point Miranda is wildly confused, and the sacrifice of giving her life to another human being is (on purpose, I believe) compared by Carroll to an absurd symbolism of Frances setting a dog on fire.
At the end of the day, none of us does, until it happens :)
Carroll is often accused of misogyny in this book. I don't agree.
If anything, this proves his surprising insight into woman's psyche and her role in life, not the opposite. At the end of this book, you are inevitably forced to confront the question: who am I? Do I care? Where do I fit? Do I shrug and go past? Do I think about myself, or others in my life, after reading it? Does it make me reflect, or do I feel offended by it?
I felt both.....
It took me completely by surprise, not for a moment did I expect such a raw confrontation from this book. It felt like skinning a rabbit, only this time I was a rabbit. Some caressing, some pinching here and there, nothing much, and then, suddenly, with one skilled rapid TUG - skin's gone. I'm raw, unprotected and emotionally naked.
Who am I in the endless game of life?
Anyways :)
That's just my take on it, one more opinion :)
It hits you hard between the eyes and there is no escaping from certain realisations. You either are one of the people with "Whoever dies with most toys, wins" T-shirt, or you're not. (this was a spoiler/quote) Or - it's time to choose. It's always time to chose, in fact. And nothing feels safe, until you do. That's how our lives work. Tick, tock :)
I have struggled with this book. I put it aside for a year, half through it, before I came back to it, and boy, am I glad that I have...
At first, it felt bleak, forced, pointless and weird ... mildly entertaining without any particular reason.
Until almost at the end, when everything changed for me: Miranda talks to Frances at the hospice/hospital, finally painfully aware of what is going on with her life, and confronted with the selfishness of her many pointless lives. It's there where the magic of this story happens. Many lives might be a symbol for the fact that when we interact with other people, all the things we do - can and will change THEIR lives for better or worse. This way we metaphorically live many lives. People say Carroll's failed, because Miranda is not more selfish that any of us. I say that's PRECISELY his point. We are Miranda. Our everyday egocentrism is vampiric in its nature and we do eat each other alive, and put ourselves first for most of our young lives. That's how we survive as species. Until one day we are confronted with something way bigger then ourselves, and we have to make a choice. Some of us have, some were waiting to make it, some struggle with it, and yet some choose to not change anything and just walk over and past it and continue the empty, selfish life of theirs. Filled to the brim by themselves and their own importance, but with no real place for others. This is how I see the allegory of vampirism that he's using. It's spot on. How many people do we meet every single day, who behave as if they were immortal, as if nobody else mattered, as if they had unlimited time, unlimited chances ready and waiting? As if everything in this world was theirs, because they live in the bubble of believing they deserve it? It's the same people who suck us dry, who walk through us, leaving us feelig empty, berieved, cheated, worse off?
And I strongly believe that Carroll chose a female protagonist not by accident, and absolutely not driven by misogyny. He chose a female, because women have more to give. They have more potential. And they are faced with LOTS more choices in lives, then most men. And they often suffer more. By their very nature, women will on and on be required to choose to sacrifice themselves selflessly for another beings. And yes, it can feel like disappearing, like giving away ones life, if it's a sacrifice big enough, like it is in case of own children, Carroll hasn't even use an allegory here, it's staring right in our faces, in form of Miranda's pregnancy and her acknowledgement of standing in front of some very hard life changes and choices. Will she love her daughter as an extension, a part of herself, as something that completes who she is, thus taking twice as much of her as she gives? Or will her love be an unconditional, selfless gift, an acknowledgement of her daughter's individuality? A sacrifice of giving her life away to another human being? Loving someone else more than she loved herself? Is she even capable of it, at this point of her life? Does she even understand what it means, and what she has to do? I don't think so, at this point Miranda is wildly confused, and the sacrifice of giving her life to another human being is (on purpose, I believe) compared by Carroll to an absurd symbolism of Frances setting a dog on fire.
At the end of the day, none of us does, until it happens :)
Carroll is often accused of misogyny in this book. I don't agree.
If anything, this proves his surprising insight into woman's psyche and her role in life, not the opposite. At the end of this book, you are inevitably forced to confront the question: who am I? Do I care? Where do I fit? Do I shrug and go past? Do I think about myself, or others in my life, after reading it? Does it make me reflect, or do I feel offended by it?
I felt both.....
It took me completely by surprise, not for a moment did I expect such a raw confrontation from this book. It felt like skinning a rabbit, only this time I was a rabbit. Some caressing, some pinching here and there, nothing much, and then, suddenly, with one skilled rapid TUG - skin's gone. I'm raw, unprotected and emotionally naked.
Who am I in the endless game of life?
Anyways :)
That's just my take on it, one more opinion :)