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1 internautes sur 2 ont trouvé ce commentaire utile :
Year of Wonders: A Soap Opera of the Plague, Mars 2 2004
It is difficult to categorically damn such a well respected book as Geraldine Brooks' Year of Wonders as a completely futile effort in the mealy, airless medium of melodramatic pulp fiction, but that is the image I have in my mind after reading the book, and it is not one of those confused images that will be shaken off by contemplating the work or by a second reading, as there is nothing substantial to think about. It is impossible to think that the author did not have a good deal of knowledge about the Black Death and medieval culture, but it almost appears that her apparent goal to portray the life of a simple peasant during the great plague was a coldly disingenuous ploy to tell a lurid and totally unbelievable tale.
Use of facts about that period of history were heavy-handed and appeared to be stuffed into the narrative until every available character and event had been gorged with contradictory and unexplained caricatures of historical events. In one completely isolated mining village there arise flagellants, witch-drownings, saccharine oaths among the dying to not spread the plague and to remain steadfastly in their village, men and women driven mad and to witchcraft, the arrival of science and medicine, maps drawn by a lightly educated preachers wife showing how the plague spread, a stunning appearance of the belief that God was not the author of the plague and that maybe he did not exist, and so on. This may represent an unmagnified picture of the year 1666 were the stage expanded to include most of Europe, but in the confines of a small village, they are laughable. The heroine begins superstitiously leery of medicine and herbs, but, in the course of the year, becomes a master healer and pharmacist. The preacher has time to reason that the plague is carried by the people's belongings which must be burned or boiled, but he still has time to endlessly tend to his flock, prepare fiery and lucid sermons, regain and lose his faith, lose his wife, administer justice by force and by words throughout the town and fall madly in love with the heroine.
As if to hide her garish literary showmanship, the author narrates as a simple peasant in a small village and does not reveal herself beyond her characters. This decision proves fatal, though, since Brooks has a great deal more to say than a medieval peasant could ever comprehend and with every lofty contemplation or ridiculous action, the character becomes more and more transparent and silly. The real intention of the book becomes clear at every turn of the page. Brooks is looking at history and the ignorance of the people and, with 20-20 hindsight, she commands her literary time machine to take her back to plague-riddled England and runs wild in the ever-popular daydream of how great one would be if one could exercise his too-common 20th century knowledge in ages past before the awed primitives. She, of course, cannot make this journey alone lest the superhuman aspects of her heroine become too clear so she brings along a strong, handsome, equally wise, philosopher-king of a preacher to help her hide among the serfs. The whole narrative smacks of politically correct feminism (Which has an important and vital place, but not in medieval minds) and totally worthless PC theology. The characters, particularly the female characters are obviously 20th century figures hammered into the story like the old square peg in a round hole. In addition, there are a number of "sex scenes" which I have nothing against in principle, but these were torn right from the pages of those books with shiny airbrushed covers depicting muscular long-haired heroes and glamorous heroines on a four-post bed draped with pink satin - true verbal garbage.
Brooke's heroine, a bright but illiterate, superstitious maid, blends beautifully with the narrative in the early chapters while the story talks of apples tumbling into apple bins and the smells of Autumn and the simplicity of medieval life. It seems as though the Author might have started along a safely navigable course or, perhaps, was wise enough to lure readers in with a genuine setting before subjecting them to the most finely written episode of "Days of Our Lives" ever penned. What better setting could she have chosen? The plague swoops in and out of her story killing children so that the mothers can eloquently weep and run about howling fury at God. It takes a potential husband away from the widow that loves him the moment after they first admit their mutual love. It clears away wives and husbands so that the chosen characters may follow their passions. It provides a fittingly terrible, awe-inspiring background to allow these stomach-turning scenes to blend into an emotional and colorful stew rather than standing out as repugnant trash reserved for popular bestsellers, romance novels, and daytime television.
In trying to look at the Black Death from the perspective of one who lived through it, it is possible to imagine a story far darker and far more compelling than this blunt caricature. I am tempted to judge this book as somewhat allegorical, but it lacks the power and ambiguity in language that might have made it rise above a paperback love story.
On the whole, I think this book wildly and inexcusably distorts any view of real life in 'The Plague Years.' A reader who has no knowledge of the historical background of the book will have a tremendously skewed perspective of the condition of the people who lived in those times and a reader with even a modicum of knowledge must either laugh at it or choose to simply note the brief glimpses of reality found in the pages. In my own experience, I found the text to be so shallow that I was able to read it in one sitting without pausing once or re-reading any section and I arose from the experience with no lasting thoughts beyond the idea that maybe I should be a writer if this nonsense gets such a pretty cover and sells so many copies. But, of course, so do Tom Clancy books and romance novels, so I must content myself with warning off any reader with even a stub of intellect from this tepid verbal diarrhea.
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1 internautes sur 2 ont trouvé ce commentaire utile :
Startlingly Bad, Mars 26 2003
Par Un client
After all the praise I heard from usually reliable sources, I picked up this book. That's a couple of newspapers, magazines, and a friend whose recommendations will be suspect from now on.Brooks commits (over and over) what Patricia Finney (author of some wonderful Elizabethan historicals) calls " the sin of psychological anachronism." Over and over. Her narrator/protagonist is heroic in the mold of an ... heroine; the Anglican minister and his wife could take up residence at any suburban Episcopal church in America. About the time the minister's wife and our plucky protagonist climbed into the mine to save the little Quaker girl's claim, I did some advanced book-flinging. And it's not just the ludicrous anachronisms; the writing sytle is also ponderous and wearying. Brooks apparently never heard the writer's maxim "show, don't tell." We are TOLD, in no uncertain terms, where each poor character stands in the Anna-ordered universe. No character -- not even the beloved Mompessons -- gets a voice of his or her own. There is a revival going on now of really good historical fiction, probably in reaction to the tiny, solipsistic novels that pass as literature today. Brooks tried to catch that wave, but missed. ...
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0 internautes sur 1 ont trouvé ce commentaire utile :
get out your hankies - on second thought . . ., Oct. 1 2003
Par Un client
Oh my gosh golly! What happened after the first 20 or so pages? It started as a well-written little page riffler, promising a good account of the black death, but then descended into mediocre writing. Maybe the problem is that the characters remained 2-dimensional, never developed more than those you see in a pretty bad movie-of-the-week.I thought the author might compensate for her problem with character development with a ripping narrative of life during plague-time, but that curiosity stayed mostly unsatisfied. Her inability to step out of a modern frame-of-reference is crippling, and it consigns this book to bodice-ripping romantic fiction. Immediately after finishing this tripe, I pulled out Barbara Tuchman's excellent history, "A Distant Mirror" and reread chapter 5: "This is the End of the World : The Black Death." If you want a well-written account of the plague, Tuchman's is the best out there. The inspiration for Year of Wonders is a gift on a platter to a capable writer. Geraldine Brooks squanders it in this novel. Poorly done.
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0 internautes sur 2 ont trouvé ce commentaire utile :
Tiff's review, Fév 10 2004
Year of Wonders in my view was not all that of a book. It took place in the time of the plague, which was some type of disease that was going around and hurting many people in the town. This book to me was not so interesting. I told myself that I was not going to read it, but did anyway, I think that's why I dislike the book so. I mean don't get me wrong, there were some good parts in it like love, marriage and what not, but there were some bad parts. The deaths of the people were a bit harsh, and that Mr. Mompellion man I tell you, he was something else. He looked down upon women.....very bad. On the flip side, I do not recommend this book to those who don't like to read of course, and don't like long books. If you like to read about issues in the 1860's I guess this will be a good choice, but you will be sorry. That's just me!
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0 internautes sur 4 ont trouvé ce commentaire utile :
Piece of Trash not fit for pigs consumption, Oct. 5 2002
Oh that I ever set eyes on this book! I am 27 years of age, but I have read many books, from Tolstoy to Dickens, George Eliot, the Brontes, and Austin. This book is the reason why I don't read comtemporary lit. A piece of rubish penned by an author as faithless and shallow as her own character Anys Gowdie. Why are "Gods words so harsh" indeed, Anne Firth...I imagine it is the Christian god you complain of, as every other gutless liberal does,...why? Any idiot can tell you that in Christian doctrine GOD has given people "freewill", if a deity interceded on mortals behalf everytime there was a tragedy you would be a pawn, a puppet, life would be meaningless! DO YOURSELF A FAVOR AND MOVE ON!!! Try anything other than this book!!!! Oprah recommended bah!!!! If you see another "O" magazine recommendation know that O stands for Odious!!!!!
If you want to read books written by great women try Eliot, the Brontes, or Austin,...LEAVE THIS BOOK LIE!!!
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