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A review by yhtgrace
The Art of Fielding by Chad Harbach
4.0
The Art of Fielding is about baseball, but also about more than baseball, which is a good thing, because if I had wanted to learn about baseball, I would have gone to a game. The book centers around four main characters: Henry who breathes and lives and dreams baseball, but whose future as a major league ballplayer is threatened when his confidence is shattered by a freak accident; Mike who is Henry's everything and friend, who has the drive but not the talent, and who lives in terrible fear that he will never come anywhere close to his dreams; Guert, whose inappropriate and single-minded obsession with the lovely Owen is slowly tearing his life apart; And Pella, who was brilliant and young and stupid, and who's now run home to rebuild her life.
And well, there's one more character, Owen. Owen is the only major character who did not have a chapter from his point of view. Which is really odd, because he drives the plot of the story-- without him, the characters would not be who they are, the book would simply fall apart. Owen is quirky, fun, and instantly likable. It's difficult to blame Guert for falling in love with him, simply because Owen is, well, transcendent-- young and alive, quietly confident of who he is and what he wants, if gods existed, he would be beloved of said gods. That said, because we never read in Owen's voice, we have no idea what Owen really thinks about his relationship with Guert, except that which is hinted at the very end. (Guert, on the other hand, has pages and pages devoted to his guilty fixation on Owen. I wonder why that was so.)
I really enjoyed Harbach's style of writing. The sheer lyricism reminds me of Chabon. The story reads easily and is hopelessly engrossing even though I (still) don't know anything about baseball (Ok. That's a lie. I now know shortstop is a position.) The descriptions of the games, which could have been boring and awful especially to someone not quite of the sports persuasion, somehow managed to make baseball come alive on the page.
On the down side, as the sole female member of an almost-boys-only cast, Pella was…disappointing, I thought. So much could have been done with her, yet her story centers around her relationships with Mike (complicated fling), Henry (boyfriend), David (husband) and Guert (father). Does the book pass the Bechdel test? I'm not sure, but I don't think so. I did enjoy her pointing out "the namelessness of women in stories, as if they lived and died so that men could have metaphysical insights." (This beautiful turn of phrase being just one of many in the book.) Too bad there were still plenty of nameless females in the story.
On the other hand, the character of Mike Schwartz, whose unrestrained ambitions extend far beyond his failing knees, his mediocre lsats and his empty wallet, rings particularly true for me. It is not for lack of trying that Mike didn't make it to law school on his first try, and that, perhaps, is the worst of it. Mike's total and brutal self-assessment of his failings, his single-minded obsession with not wasting each and every second that passes mark him as a man so driven that it leaves the reader little doubt that he will eventually succeed. However, just as in real life, this does not mean that his insecurities are any less real or painful to experience.
And well, there's one more character, Owen. Owen is the only major character who did not have a chapter from his point of view. Which is really odd, because he drives the plot of the story-- without him, the characters would not be who they are, the book would simply fall apart. Owen is quirky, fun, and instantly likable. It's difficult to blame Guert for falling in love with him, simply because Owen is, well, transcendent-- young and alive, quietly confident of who he is and what he wants, if gods existed, he would be beloved of said gods. That said, because we never read in Owen's voice, we have no idea what Owen really thinks about his relationship with Guert, except that which is hinted at the very end. (Guert, on the other hand, has pages and pages devoted to his guilty fixation on Owen. I wonder why that was so.)
I really enjoyed Harbach's style of writing. The sheer lyricism reminds me of Chabon. The story reads easily and is hopelessly engrossing even though I (still) don't know anything about baseball (Ok. That's a lie. I now know shortstop is a position.) The descriptions of the games, which could have been boring and awful especially to someone not quite of the sports persuasion, somehow managed to make baseball come alive on the page.
On the down side, as the sole female member of an almost-boys-only cast, Pella was…disappointing, I thought. So much could have been done with her, yet her story centers around her relationships with Mike (complicated fling), Henry (boyfriend), David (husband) and Guert (father). Does the book pass the Bechdel test? I'm not sure, but I don't think so. I did enjoy her pointing out "the namelessness of women in stories, as if they lived and died so that men could have metaphysical insights." (This beautiful turn of phrase being just one of many in the book.) Too bad there were still plenty of nameless females in the story.
On the other hand, the character of Mike Schwartz, whose unrestrained ambitions extend far beyond his failing knees, his mediocre lsats and his empty wallet, rings particularly true for me. It is not for lack of trying that Mike didn't make it to law school on his first try, and that, perhaps, is the worst of it. Mike's total and brutal self-assessment of his failings, his single-minded obsession with not wasting each and every second that passes mark him as a man so driven that it leaves the reader little doubt that he will eventually succeed. However, just as in real life, this does not mean that his insecurities are any less real or painful to experience.