Review: "McTeague" by Frank Norris

I can’t imagine the cruel fate that befalls great minds who are ahead of their time, as is the case with Frank Norris and his most famous (if you can even use the term famous) novel McTeague. Reading it, I could not help but look forward to writers as varied as F. Scott Fitzgerald and Hemingway to the noir writers who emerged in the 1930’s and whose stories and novels became the basis for one of film’s most thematically rich genres. From the way it is written to the ideas it presents and the memorable scenes of grotesque and frightening human behavior, this novel, published in 1899, is painfully ahead of its time, and despite it being a clear precursor (at the very least) to some of America’s most signifying literature, rarely is he talked about or studied in high school or college English courses. There is a reason for that (which I will get too), but even with some valid points as to why Norris is confined to obscurity, his talent for storytelling, his gift for character and the timelessness of his work makes me believe some recognition in 2018 is overdue. The book begins with the eponymous character sitting alone in his Parlor where he provides dental work for the residents of Polk Street in San Francisco (the idea that this man, who we learn is a brutish slave to his desires could have a job as delicate as a dentist is one of the book’s many brilliant contradictions). He is has few goals and is not much for deep thought, but all that changes when his guileless friend Marcus comes in with his cousin Trina, who McTeague falls madly in love in. But this romance unknowingly spells doom for the couple and a select few of the rich cast of characters that inhabit the orbit of this tragic and disturbing tale. It has a detached quality to it that somehow makes what happens to everyone that much more sad and painful: they are not is much unwilling but unable to overcome their feverish desires and with the expectation of a select few characters, it directly causes their downfall. The book is filled with great set pieces, like the picnic and theater scenes where McTeague meets Trina’s Swedish family, whose dialogue is spelled phonetically, the wedding scene where desires, both romantic and malicious, are thinly veiled behind everyone’s speech, a short quiet scene between Miss Baker and Old Grannis, two people who are McTeague’s neighbors, where they share the book’s sweetest and hopeful moment, to the final scenes in the desert which oddly reminded me of Lovecraft and its infamous denouement. As I said before, Norris is very much out of favor with modern critics for the obvious Anti-Semitism in his fiction, represented here by the character Zerkow, whose greed makes him an almost vampiric character and the book’s most purely evil one. It is an ugly representation for sure and is worth demonizing, but it does not take away from the power of Norris’ novel. If you are looking to read something a bit old but also a bit different, this tragic tale of greed, selfishness and human misery is surely a book worthy of more attention than it is getting. 

Rating: 5/5

Review: "The Lights of Pointe-Noire" by Alain Mabanckou

Black Moses was one of my favorite books last year, so when I shuffled up my reading lost last minute a few weeks ago, I knew Alain Mabanckou’s non-fiction breakthrough The Lights of Pointe-Noire was an easy choice for me to pick. While I don’t like it nearly as much as I like his novel, it has the same passion, insight and intrigue of his fictional novel. It might not be a fair comparison because while the books have similar themes and share an identical locale, they are quite different in tone. While the book performs a seamless balancing act between slapstick and quiet tragedy, this is a more somber piece that acts as both an exorcism of a displaced writer’s conflicting past as well as a kind of triptych for a city that has one foot in the past and another in the present, with no plans for either to move forward or backward. It begins with Mabanckou receiving news of his mother’s passing, news he processes in such a detached way he does not tell his friends about it. This news forces him to travel back to Pointe-Noire, Congo after having been gone for more than two decades. What follows is a mish-mash of Mabanckou's past and present, which shows the duality at the heart of the city, where children are still taught to fear mythical beings while being enamored with spaghetti westerns and martial arts film at the local multiplex. What fascinated me most were the sections focusing on Mabanckou extended family, especially the men he calls his “uncles” all of which are fascinating people who somehow never were able to escape the city like Mabanckou was able to and find international success, an idea brilliantly put forth near the end. Sometimes it is rather dry read, but it was nice to read a book about someone’s home town that’s not hopelessly cynical, and I’m grateful it came from an a writer with the immense talent of Mabanckou. 

Rating: 4/5

Review: "Bleak House" by Charles Dickens

One of the resolutions I had for myself once I turned 30 was to read more books written and published before 1900. For reasons that are purely arbitrary, I was only interested in modern books and by entering a new decade of life, I felt like I needed a change. One book that was on top of that list of books written in a different century than when I was born was Charles Dickens’ Bleak House. After hearing it referenced in a few novels and short stories I liked, and it not being one of Dickens’ widely read novels (especially when compared to novels like A Tale of Two Cities and Great Expectations), it was a book I was dying to read once I turned 30. The experience was very much what I expected. Sometimes I was confused and had to look things up, others times I was riveted and a little too proud once I finally understood something. I won’t get too deep into this plot because of its status in world literature, with many of its more broad pints recognizable to hardcore bibliophiles, so I will focus more on what I liked and did not like. Even though it is 165 years old, the overall structure and the meaning behind it is relevant and true. Dickens presents society as a machine with many working parts of varying degrees of importance and status that somehow rely on one another to keep society moving forward. But that does not mean some of these parts can’t go forgotten, like the doomed young boy Jo, or become nefarious in their intentions, like Mr. Tulkinghorn and Mr. Vholes, both manipulative lawyers. Towards the end a lot of plotlines are wrapped up a little too quickly, and some of those within the orbit of Esther Summerson not getting what they deserve, but through that we really get a sense of Dickens’ ambivalence toward society’s infallibility, where good and bad things happen to good and bad people indiscriminately. It ends on a powerful image of young children with full lives ahead of them, filled with hope despite going forth in an indifferent world. While I feel I did not grasp a large portion of this 989-page book, I’m glad I picked it up and was at least partially enriched by it. 

Rating: 4/5