Scan barcode
A review by shelgraves
The Possibility of an Island by Michel Houellebecq
1.0
Read this to wallow in a nihilistic worldview in which no one can be sexy or happy past the age of 35 — no, make that 25.
Abhorrent. While there are some promising turns of phrase and glimmers of thoughtful ideas, the book quickly becomes mired in misogyny and gerontophobia — this, and an unredeemable protagonist, make for a rough slog.
Instead of circling round to an ironic point, developing a plot, or creating a character arc; the book spirals downward. It gets worse. The protagonist is not only misogynistic but misanthropic and filled with self-hatred as well.
As the book comes to its bitter end: "I hated mankind, it's true, I had hated it since the beginning, and as misfortune makes you nasty, I now hated it even more."
It has a dated vibe of apathy and ennui. There are parts reminiscent of Nabokov's Lolita — certainly the middle-aged man's obsession with nubile girls — but it doesn't have the wit and irony of Nabokov's strong protagonist, deluded and foul, Humbert Humbert is at least charming and likeable from his own point of view.
Daniel is just a jerk.
"I had never felt much sympathy for the poor, and now that my life was fucked I had less than ever; the superiority my cash gave me over them might even have amounted to a slight consolation...(except they are young)."
Annoyingly, the blurb on the back compares this book favorably with Margaret Atwood's Oryx and Crake, a work that thoughtfully explores and develops some ideas about the current and future state of humanity and then goes even further with those ideas and characters in The Year of the Flood.
Science fiction, even in its cautionary dystopic tales, envisions the future and, in doing so, finds its roots in hope, possibility, and humanity.
The Possibility of an Island sets up a structure of narration between a modern day protagonist and his clone of the future, but it doesn't do anything with this trope and its mentions of clones and "immortality" serve only as props on which to hang and prolong Daniel's immersive despair.
As Daniel says, "I told myself that this was perhaps the true nature of art, to show us dreamed of worlds, impossible worlds, and that it was a thing I had never come close to..."
Pairs well with: Cormac McCarthy's The Road (a skilled writer throws a science fiction trope into a depressing downward spiral)
Read instead: Oryx and Crake, The Year of the Flood, Lolita
Abhorrent. While there are some promising turns of phrase and glimmers of thoughtful ideas, the book quickly becomes mired in misogyny and gerontophobia — this, and an unredeemable protagonist, make for a rough slog.
Instead of circling round to an ironic point, developing a plot, or creating a character arc; the book spirals downward. It gets worse. The protagonist is not only misogynistic but misanthropic and filled with self-hatred as well.
As the book comes to its bitter end: "I hated mankind, it's true, I had hated it since the beginning, and as misfortune makes you nasty, I now hated it even more."
It has a dated vibe of apathy and ennui. There are parts reminiscent of Nabokov's Lolita — certainly the middle-aged man's obsession with nubile girls — but it doesn't have the wit and irony of Nabokov's strong protagonist, deluded and foul, Humbert Humbert is at least charming and likeable from his own point of view.
Daniel is just a jerk.
"I had never felt much sympathy for the poor, and now that my life was fucked I had less than ever; the superiority my cash gave me over them might even have amounted to a slight consolation...(except they are young)."
Annoyingly, the blurb on the back compares this book favorably with Margaret Atwood's Oryx and Crake, a work that thoughtfully explores and develops some ideas about the current and future state of humanity and then goes even further with those ideas and characters in The Year of the Flood.
Science fiction, even in its cautionary dystopic tales, envisions the future and, in doing so, finds its roots in hope, possibility, and humanity.
The Possibility of an Island sets up a structure of narration between a modern day protagonist and his clone of the future, but it doesn't do anything with this trope and its mentions of clones and "immortality" serve only as props on which to hang and prolong Daniel's immersive despair.
As Daniel says, "I told myself that this was perhaps the true nature of art, to show us dreamed of worlds, impossible worlds, and that it was a thing I had never come close to..."
Pairs well with: Cormac McCarthy's The Road (a skilled writer throws a science fiction trope into a depressing downward spiral)
Read instead: Oryx and Crake, The Year of the Flood, Lolita