A review by novabird
The Museum of Extraordinary Things by Alice Hoffman

3.0

Reading, The Museum of Extraordinary Things, I felt like I was watching a slow, stop again, start again, parade from a significant distance. As though, I watched the moving exhibits from a higher vantage point; some floats were themes of the characters themselves, others were themes of symbolism, others were themes of real historical events, all of these were interspersed with cages of strange animals, and plain, motored platforms of unusual variations of humans positioned on them. At the same time, I heard two things at once; first was the different float music that lost their harmony while blending into a soft cacophony that came rolling over the distance. Second, I heard the commentator on TV, in the background filling in details like the cost of the floats, or how many paper flowers had been used, while I turned back occasionally to the TV to see the close ups the world’s more unfamiliar sights.

These two sounds represent Hoffman’s authorial voice. The first sample of sound as a soft cacophony of her narrative voice is heard during the climactic scene,

“as there had been in Coralie’s dream when she was a little girl, when there was so little difference between night and day she expected her dreams and nightmares to greet her at the breakfast table,”


What does a ‘breakfast table,’ have to do with the climactic scene at hand? Absolutely nothing. This is so jarring that the scene loses its willing suspension of disbelief and creates distance between the reader and the tale. Hoffman utilized the ‘breakfast table,’ to overemphasize the beginning of the book, to place a stress on the fact that the book is being completed by book-ending it with the matching symbolism of borders,

“It made me wonder how far the waking world was from the world of dreams.” p. 3.


The second sample of sound, is found in her narrator/commentator voice filling in historical facts also placed during an action scene,

“By morning nothing would be left . . .(and then including the amount of property damage in an actual monetary figure).”


This narrative intrusion also disconnects the reader from the tale and creates unnecessary distance, again disrupting the willing suspension of disbelief.

Hoffman’s, The Museum of Extraordinary Things, contrasts many ideas, from the very real elements present in fire and water, tradition against encroaching modernity, poverty and wealth, obedience and defiance, and innocence against evil to name the most obvious. Yet she seems to be trying to give equal weight to both magical realism and historical fiction and this balance is never achieved.
SpoilerThe symbolism of the locks and keys and mainly females being locked into two buildings on fire with two real fires is seen as symbolic form of control/destruction. Yet, the first fictional fire that references Mrs. Rochester from Jane Eyre is not even a subtle foreshadowing, it is rather blatant foretelling, even the hermit’s shack on fire adds to this dimension. The last fictional fire diminishes the actual re-rendered real accounts, by attempting to elevate itself by being the center of alchemy for the story. From the cereus plant finally in bloom undergoing a transformation from virginal white into red, and then ash, to the idea that the swim tank could have been the refuge from the ravaging fire for the couple plus a dog, both these magical realism effects have lost their necessary willing suspension of disbelief. The whole ending was unbelievable


The little dialogue there was had veracity and was nuanced in a tone fitting for 1911. There was some depth in each ‘character’s float’ as they stand-alone. Hoffman shows her deliberate portrayal of Coralie as an ingénue struggling to find an identity, compared to the sophisticated Juliet. I think that the reason I wasn’t able to connect with Coralie was that there were strong contradictory character developments, where one thing that seems to be an absolute does a full reversal;

“She was no man’s dark dream, only a girl who was forced to swim half-clothed.” p. 20


The curious, short sentence, “She was suddenly and achingly present,” shifts the reader’s experience of Coralie and reinforces an objectivity that asks the reader to then consider all that happened and will happen to Coralie before and after this ‘awakened,’ river incident and asks us to think about how fully present she is otherwise. If a character is not fully present under normal circumstances, then why should the reader lend them credulity?

Eddie/Ezekiel’s gradual return to full awareness has the more believability. Yet he too is seen from a distance, as he learns to see with more alertness. Early on with his experience of photography, the narration tells us that,

“for the very first time, that he had felt truly awake.”


Two pages later we hear,

“He was detached and professional in the face of tragedy.”


Because of the closeness of the two texts and the order of their presentation, we as the reader are left unfortunately with the sense that being awake equals being detached.

What I liked best about, "The Museum of Extraordinary Things," was the fact that I could see the settings of the book very clearly, actually with astonishing clarity. I can call to mind the hermit’s shack, the museum, the Hudson River and its banks, the garment factory, the Ukrainian forest and the dock etc. I think Hoffman chose to focus her narrative on the visual through,

“the eye of the camera that captured the world as it truly was.” p. 57


Despite being overly weighted with unnecessary detail, and the distancing effect on the characters, this is a wonderfully visual book, with enough action in it, which could be improved upon by adapting it for screenplay and I can see it becoming a successful movie.

I give, "The Museum of Extraordinary Things," an extra. .25 because of its strong visual focus and the fact that this should translate well into a film. 3.25

Parades are beautiful to watch if viewed infrequently. Yet they are still just not for me.