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A review by superdilettante
The Sorrows of an American by Siri Hustvedt
4.0
I wrote a very thoughtful review, but it disappeared. So there.
"'Our own father used to talk about city slickers,' I said, smiling at my sister. 'But every perceived difference, no matter how slight, can become an argument for Otherness--money, education, skin color, religion, political party, hairstyle, anything. Enemies are enlivening. Evil-doers, jihadists, barbarians. Hatred is exciting and contagious and conveniently eliminates all ambiguity. You just spew your own garbage on to someone else.'"
"There are weights in us that other people never see."
Although this book seemed a bit thinner than What I Loved, and I didn't enjoy it as much, I always appreciate Hustvedt's thoughtful, solitary, complex characters. Part of me wonders if the lack of much resolution is a bit of an exploration of a person--a family--as an iceberg.
"'Our own father used to talk about city slickers,' I said, smiling at my sister. 'But every perceived difference, no matter how slight, can become an argument for Otherness--money, education, skin color, religion, political party, hairstyle, anything. Enemies are enlivening. Evil-doers, jihadists, barbarians. Hatred is exciting and contagious and conveniently eliminates all ambiguity. You just spew your own garbage on to someone else.'"
"There are weights in us that other people never see."
Although this book seemed a bit thinner than What I Loved, and I didn't enjoy it as much, I always appreciate Hustvedt's thoughtful, solitary, complex characters. Part of me wonders if the lack of much resolution is a bit of an exploration of a person--a family--as an iceberg.