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jdscott50 's review for:
The Vanishers
by Heidi Julavits
An academic viper’s nest settled inside the shifting world of feminists that underlay this strange sort of sci-fi novel.
Julie Severn is a second year initiate of the Workshop, a program designed to train psychic powers. Julie’s relationship as a star pupil of the star professor Madame Ackerman is faltering. One night, at Madame Ackerman’s birthday party, a psychic game goes awry. Julie loses everything, her position, even her health to mysterious circumstances. She is approached with a possible solution to her problems that will take her into the world of the vanishers. They might solve her problem and in the process reveal her true feelings about her mother and her self.
Hedi Julavits seems to have something to say about how women treat each other, particularly mother/daughter relationships. She focuses on the jealousy, the hating, and the petty acts done by women to other women. The first section of the book doesn’t even discuss any of the paranormal, but the simple act of wishing others ill. Hunting on Facebook, catching up on people from high school, watching their looks fade and how they didn’t turn out that well, most of that stemming from one’s own unhappiness. That concept seems to be very apt today, but as she presses forward, the story gets more and more convoluted. The problem I had with her other book The Uses of Enchantment, is that she sets up a structure for her story that doesn’t hold up very well. What happens inside that structure is a fascinating perspective on human nature. It’s like having a party in a dilapidated warehouse.
The Vanishers suffers the same kind of problem becoming more of a distraction than an emphasis. It’s like 8 millimeter meets strange performance art. It helps drive the story forward to its conclusion, but I didn’t find it believable that the main character couldn’t come to these conclusions without that involvement. Julavits is an excellent writer and there are some great passages in the book, but there are too many curves thrown into the mix to hold the story up which end up holding it down. It’s a fun read with great insights, but it gets bogged down with the plot vehicle.
Favorite passages:
“In retaliation, to preserve whatever small amount of pride you still possess, you become the secret curator of the suffering of others. Homebound now, you do online searches for people from your past. You’re pleased to discover that your college roommate’s looks have been lost, that a former coworker’s start-up went bankrupt, that an ex-girlfriend’s Broadway dreams did not pan out. You spend your days monitoring demises. You become, over time, the connoisseur of downfall, a covert expertise that distracts you from your own decline.” P. 3
“Or perhaps it was the crying woman’s mention of the unread library books, because truly there was nothing sadder, except a gift that a person has hand made for you, a scarf or a poncho, that, try as you might, you cannot ever see your way into wearing. This is when the cold indifference of the world envelopes you, and makes you feel invigorated by emotion but also acutely alone. These moments of heartbreak for unwanted scarves and unread books can reveal to you, more than the inattention of any long dead mother, what it is to be alive.” P. 87
“Because he was telling me too, without telling me: She would not have been a hauler of buckets. She was not selfless. She would have been an absence even if she’d been there. And while it was true that he didn’t want to do a disservice to her memory, his reasons were maybe less noble than he was comfortable admitting to himself. He didn’t want her turned into a saint because she didn’t deserve sainthood. He was not so generous that he could allow her posthumous glory she had not earned.” P. 149
“Better to be hated by her than to be loved by a monster.” P. 245
“People can vanish or even die, but the blame keeps them present and alive. To be forgiven is to be released into the ether, untethered and alone. I vowed: I would never forgive her.” P. 276
Julie Severn is a second year initiate of the Workshop, a program designed to train psychic powers. Julie’s relationship as a star pupil of the star professor Madame Ackerman is faltering. One night, at Madame Ackerman’s birthday party, a psychic game goes awry. Julie loses everything, her position, even her health to mysterious circumstances. She is approached with a possible solution to her problems that will take her into the world of the vanishers. They might solve her problem and in the process reveal her true feelings about her mother and her self.
Hedi Julavits seems to have something to say about how women treat each other, particularly mother/daughter relationships. She focuses on the jealousy, the hating, and the petty acts done by women to other women. The first section of the book doesn’t even discuss any of the paranormal, but the simple act of wishing others ill. Hunting on Facebook, catching up on people from high school, watching their looks fade and how they didn’t turn out that well, most of that stemming from one’s own unhappiness. That concept seems to be very apt today, but as she presses forward, the story gets more and more convoluted. The problem I had with her other book The Uses of Enchantment, is that she sets up a structure for her story that doesn’t hold up very well. What happens inside that structure is a fascinating perspective on human nature. It’s like having a party in a dilapidated warehouse.
The Vanishers suffers the same kind of problem becoming more of a distraction than an emphasis. It’s like 8 millimeter meets strange performance art. It helps drive the story forward to its conclusion, but I didn’t find it believable that the main character couldn’t come to these conclusions without that involvement. Julavits is an excellent writer and there are some great passages in the book, but there are too many curves thrown into the mix to hold the story up which end up holding it down. It’s a fun read with great insights, but it gets bogged down with the plot vehicle.
Favorite passages:
“In retaliation, to preserve whatever small amount of pride you still possess, you become the secret curator of the suffering of others. Homebound now, you do online searches for people from your past. You’re pleased to discover that your college roommate’s looks have been lost, that a former coworker’s start-up went bankrupt, that an ex-girlfriend’s Broadway dreams did not pan out. You spend your days monitoring demises. You become, over time, the connoisseur of downfall, a covert expertise that distracts you from your own decline.” P. 3
“Or perhaps it was the crying woman’s mention of the unread library books, because truly there was nothing sadder, except a gift that a person has hand made for you, a scarf or a poncho, that, try as you might, you cannot ever see your way into wearing. This is when the cold indifference of the world envelopes you, and makes you feel invigorated by emotion but also acutely alone. These moments of heartbreak for unwanted scarves and unread books can reveal to you, more than the inattention of any long dead mother, what it is to be alive.” P. 87
“Because he was telling me too, without telling me: She would not have been a hauler of buckets. She was not selfless. She would have been an absence even if she’d been there. And while it was true that he didn’t want to do a disservice to her memory, his reasons were maybe less noble than he was comfortable admitting to himself. He didn’t want her turned into a saint because she didn’t deserve sainthood. He was not so generous that he could allow her posthumous glory she had not earned.” P. 149
“Better to be hated by her than to be loved by a monster.” P. 245
“People can vanish or even die, but the blame keeps them present and alive. To be forgiven is to be released into the ether, untethered and alone. I vowed: I would never forgive her.” P. 276