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thelizabeth 's review for:
The Lacuna
by Barbara Kingsolver
Well. I'm not happy about it, but looks like I'm rounding this rating down. It's the truth. I didn't like reading this much at all.
It was a little like the tough parts of reading Romola: author, I see you did your homework, but why must you make me feel as if I am also doing homework? The descriptions were endless, but with no actual people in them. I skimmed through so much, waiting to learn a single thing about the character. The narrative form is mostly to blame here: I'm not a huge fan of pretending I am reading someone's journal (or other method of suspending disbelief that a character wrote every word), and here it constricts what we can learn about Harrison Shepherd. Is he happy? Is he sad? He almost never (maybe never) makes "I" statements, so you don't know what he thinks, at all. Just what he sees. Which is every gosh darn fruit fly. And Kingsolver, I guess, put more care into assembling these exterior pieces than in making us think about any of it.
And ok. The thing is, this is on purpose. This is the titular concept, the missing piece. But I don't see why. At some points we're at such arm's length from Shepherd as to be reading about almost nothing. The "archivist" comments on this once: these diaries are like an album with photos of everyone but the photographer. And there you have it. Makes a pretty unexciting book. So... good job? You executed this lifeless plan very well?
But, well. There's likable things. Early in when Diego and Frida show up, THANK GOD, because it would take a lot of work to make them boring. And the portion of the book with them in Mexico is the nicest part. Frida gets to say all the hilarious vulgar things she can think of. Harrison's adoration of Van the secretary is somewhat touching. It all builds to a satisfying conclusion. But once Trotsky is killed (historical record can't be a spoiler, right?), the story is spent and there's still hundreds of pages left.
And then nothing happens. Really nothing. For the rest of the book, Shepherd becomes an author. That's what goes on. In Asheville, NC, though I couldn't say why. It is kinda thoughtful that his books are passionate novels about Mexican history, and he nearly articulates how that connects to his place in the world. He doesn't, though. Then there is some injustice in the press during the red scare, and an unjust HUAC hearing (in case there was any other kind), and then that's it. The ending is kinda sorta good, but I was so unattached to him it didn't really matter how he ended up, and I wasn't interested in pursuing open ends.
Some of the author's choices don't make structural sense either. How come he goes back to visit Frida, but we skip that part? Mostly, the thing that sticks out is the best-written part of the novel: when Harrison, as a teenager, is suddenly living in D.C. for a chapter. It is great actually! Hooray! A great new character is there, and a really interesting event occurs. And then... as soon as that's over he's back in Mexico. So... was she just showing off that she could write a cool action sequence, based on historical research, even though most of her book is taking place elsewhere? It looked awfully convenient. Which is an annoying characteristic for a book. And it's later clear that the most significant event of Harrison's personal life takes place OFF the page during this time. ALSO PRETTY ANNOYING. It makes me unsure why we should read what is there.
And I super hate the cover. Looks even worse with the jacket off.
Sigh. This was not my favorite month.
It was a little like the tough parts of reading Romola: author, I see you did your homework, but why must you make me feel as if I am also doing homework? The descriptions were endless, but with no actual people in them. I skimmed through so much, waiting to learn a single thing about the character. The narrative form is mostly to blame here: I'm not a huge fan of pretending I am reading someone's journal (or other method of suspending disbelief that a character wrote every word), and here it constricts what we can learn about Harrison Shepherd. Is he happy? Is he sad? He almost never (maybe never) makes "I" statements, so you don't know what he thinks, at all. Just what he sees. Which is every gosh darn fruit fly. And Kingsolver, I guess, put more care into assembling these exterior pieces than in making us think about any of it.
And ok. The thing is, this is on purpose. This is the titular concept, the missing piece. But I don't see why. At some points we're at such arm's length from Shepherd as to be reading about almost nothing. The "archivist" comments on this once: these diaries are like an album with photos of everyone but the photographer. And there you have it. Makes a pretty unexciting book. So... good job? You executed this lifeless plan very well?
But, well. There's likable things. Early in when Diego and Frida show up, THANK GOD, because it would take a lot of work to make them boring. And the portion of the book with them in Mexico is the nicest part. Frida gets to say all the hilarious vulgar things she can think of. Harrison's adoration of Van the secretary is somewhat touching. It all builds to a satisfying conclusion. But once Trotsky is killed (historical record can't be a spoiler, right?), the story is spent and there's still hundreds of pages left.
And then nothing happens. Really nothing. For the rest of the book, Shepherd becomes an author. That's what goes on. In Asheville, NC, though I couldn't say why. It is kinda thoughtful that his books are passionate novels about Mexican history, and he nearly articulates how that connects to his place in the world. He doesn't, though. Then there is some injustice in the press during the red scare, and an unjust HUAC hearing (in case there was any other kind), and then that's it. The ending is kinda sorta good, but I was so unattached to him it didn't really matter how he ended up, and I wasn't interested in pursuing open ends.
Some of the author's choices don't make structural sense either. How come he goes back to visit Frida, but we skip that part? Mostly, the thing that sticks out is the best-written part of the novel: when Harrison, as a teenager, is suddenly living in D.C. for a chapter. It is great actually! Hooray! A great new character is there, and a really interesting event occurs. And then... as soon as that's over he's back in Mexico. So... was she just showing off that she could write a cool action sequence, based on historical research, even though most of her book is taking place elsewhere? It looked awfully convenient. Which is an annoying characteristic for a book. And it's later clear that the most significant event of Harrison's personal life takes place OFF the page during this time. ALSO PRETTY ANNOYING. It makes me unsure why we should read what is there.
And I super hate the cover. Looks even worse with the jacket off.
Sigh. This was not my favorite month.