Started off interesting, but then, it's very dense. Lots of speeches. interesting, but not a book I will keep or ever read again.
This is an unusual book. I don't know what to make of it, and I feel like I am not fully qualified to read it, frankly.
The main character, Elizabeth Costello, is an elderly - but not really old - writer, who finds herself invited to various functions where she delivers rather obscure speeches. Much of the import of the book lies in these speeches, or in conversations at dinner. In a sense that feels odd, forced, yet not really, because she is so well-drawn. I cared about her even when I could not entirely follow her reasoning.
If I had read the list of chapters ahead of time I wonder if I would have started the book. They are called "Lessons".
Lesson 1: Realism
Lesson 2: The novel in Africa
Lesson 3: The lives of animals...
And so on. I am glad that I did not read this and get put off, though, for this is a beautifully written book. And the main theme really is about caring. About empathy, about giving a damn. I am always up for discourse on this subject.
Where I fall short is in the classics, particularly the Greek and Roman classics. I have never read them. So when the various characters discuss them I can only take them at their word, or try to make a whole from the parts. I feel a bit undereducated. Not unusual, I suspect, for an American from a middle-class family.
We meet Elizabeth as she travels to Pennsylvania to receive an honorary award from a university there. She meets her son there, because he lives nearby, and he feels obligated to accompany her and to watch her speak. Wherever she goes she has a tendency to ruffle feathers, not because she is a glutton for controversy but simply because she speaks what she feels and she tries to explain.
Thus she discusses "realism" - or maybe the inability to determine what is real and what is not. Or maybe her regret that she can no longer be sure what a writer really means. There is a core there, a thought worked out, and I can't say that I fully understand it. In this I am joined by the fictional audience, which clapped somewhat hesitantly.
But then we move on to other subjects. Elizabeth dissects the contention by an African writer that African writing is all about listening, community, being a part of the story, rather than offering a story to be read alone. Rather furiously she takes apart the theory and throws it into the dust bin. Then she moves on to what is my favorite subject: animals.
In the next two chapters she talks of how animals are treated in factory farms today, how no animal is safe from human appetites, and she dares to make the comparison with the Holocaust, saying that there is a holocaust every day for farm animals. Through the rest of the book these words are thrown back at her, but she does not retract them. Good for her, I say. The essence of her discussion here, I think, comes when she is pressed for what she wants or believes and she says she is at sea here, that she knows so many good and kind people and she does not understand why she herself is unable to forget or accept the horrors that happen to animals while others can. She simply does not understand. She does not set herself up as better than others, just as somebody trying to understand.
Her empathy for others permeates the rest of the book as well. She travels on a cruise ship, where she is one of the "entertainers", giving a talk and a short course on the novel. She travels to Africa to be with her sister when her sister receives an honor for what she has done in an African hospital, as a nun. She is invited to other illustrious events, in large part, she knows, because her name has become synonymous with controversy. She does not mean this to be so. She is only letting others know how she thinks, and she does think.
It's a thoughtful book, full of ideas that catch at the mind. It isn't too hard to see why the author would have won the Nobel prize in literature.
The main character, Elizabeth Costello, is an elderly - but not really old - writer, who finds herself invited to various functions where she delivers rather obscure speeches. Much of the import of the book lies in these speeches, or in conversations at dinner. In a sense that feels odd, forced, yet not really, because she is so well-drawn. I cared about her even when I could not entirely follow her reasoning.
If I had read the list of chapters ahead of time I wonder if I would have started the book. They are called "Lessons".
Lesson 1: Realism
Lesson 2: The novel in Africa
Lesson 3: The lives of animals...
And so on. I am glad that I did not read this and get put off, though, for this is a beautifully written book. And the main theme really is about caring. About empathy, about giving a damn. I am always up for discourse on this subject.
Where I fall short is in the classics, particularly the Greek and Roman classics. I have never read them. So when the various characters discuss them I can only take them at their word, or try to make a whole from the parts. I feel a bit undereducated. Not unusual, I suspect, for an American from a middle-class family.
We meet Elizabeth as she travels to Pennsylvania to receive an honorary award from a university there. She meets her son there, because he lives nearby, and he feels obligated to accompany her and to watch her speak. Wherever she goes she has a tendency to ruffle feathers, not because she is a glutton for controversy but simply because she speaks what she feels and she tries to explain.
Thus she discusses "realism" - or maybe the inability to determine what is real and what is not. Or maybe her regret that she can no longer be sure what a writer really means. There is a core there, a thought worked out, and I can't say that I fully understand it. In this I am joined by the fictional audience, which clapped somewhat hesitantly.
But then we move on to other subjects. Elizabeth dissects the contention by an African writer that African writing is all about listening, community, being a part of the story, rather than offering a story to be read alone. Rather furiously she takes apart the theory and throws it into the dust bin. Then she moves on to what is my favorite subject: animals.
In the next two chapters she talks of how animals are treated in factory farms today, how no animal is safe from human appetites, and she dares to make the comparison with the Holocaust, saying that there is a holocaust every day for farm animals. Through the rest of the book these words are thrown back at her, but she does not retract them. Good for her, I say. The essence of her discussion here, I think, comes when she is pressed for what she wants or believes and she says she is at sea here, that she knows so many good and kind people and she does not understand why she herself is unable to forget or accept the horrors that happen to animals while others can. She simply does not understand. She does not set herself up as better than others, just as somebody trying to understand.
Her empathy for others permeates the rest of the book as well. She travels on a cruise ship, where she is one of the "entertainers", giving a talk and a short course on the novel. She travels to Africa to be with her sister when her sister receives an honor for what she has done in an African hospital, as a nun. She is invited to other illustrious events, in large part, she knows, because her name has become synonymous with controversy. She does not mean this to be so. She is only letting others know how she thinks, and she does think.
It's a thoughtful book, full of ideas that catch at the mind. It isn't too hard to see why the author would have won the Nobel prize in literature.
Well. Hmmm. I just finished this book and the further away I get from reading it, the more I like it. I honestly don't think I have EVER read anything modern that challenged me in this way. There are a handful of complaints around about how the book is dry and difficult to follow. It is. But it's not difficult in a literary sense. The vocabulary is pretty basic. There are no artsy turns of phrase like a Winterson novel or anything like that. It's just very deliberately multi-layered and pieced together. I think this makes it more authentic and lends a resemblance to the human experience and psyche.
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Just for fun, here is a collection of some of my random thoughts during my reading of this masterpiece (I normally don't have too many intrusive thoughts while I read, but, alas, the book was dry, as has been addressed by others. So, this happened.) Here we go:
"Why should I care about this fake author Elizabeth Costello? I don't even like her."
"Oh no, not another stuffy dinner gathering where heinously privileged aristocrats get into heated arguments over morality (of all things) and hatefully exchange esoteric gibberish."
"OK, now we are comparing animal cruelty with genocide... Again..."
"Do schizophrenic writers get more awards?"
"This is painful. I hope it's at least making me smarter."
"The past and future of the humanities is very troubling. Yes. I should definitely be spending my time worrying about this instead of how to pay my mortgage this month like everyone else."
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OK, moving on... As I got further along, I started to be reminded of my undergraduate philosophy days. There's that feeling of not being sure that you're getting the whole picture, then realizing that feeling is actually the point. The story, of course, is not really about the stuffy, worn-out, overrated author who it's impossible to like and difficult to even sympathize with. It's not even truly about the humanities, animal rights, religion, the holocaust, or any of the topics covered by the lectures and discussions of Costello and friends.
By my humble reading and impression, I think it's fundamentally concerned with how (or maybe why, or even whether) we come to believe what we believe. It also grapples with the idea that we are stripped of our dignity as we age.
In short, I hated the book. But I loved how it moved me. My impression has an uncanny resemblance to the feelings evoked by Costello's character. Nobody really likes what she has to say, and yet, they keep commissioning her lectures and inviting her to these fancy dinners. Hmmm. Deep, I think.
It's a must read, but don't expect it to sing to you. You have to work for this one and that's the point. I think.
------------------------------------------------
Just for fun, here is a collection of some of my random thoughts during my reading of this masterpiece (I normally don't have too many intrusive thoughts while I read, but, alas, the book was dry, as has been addressed by others. So, this happened.) Here we go:
"Why should I care about this fake author Elizabeth Costello? I don't even like her."
"Oh no, not another stuffy dinner gathering where heinously privileged aristocrats get into heated arguments over morality (of all things) and hatefully exchange esoteric gibberish."
"OK, now we are comparing animal cruelty with genocide... Again..."
"Do schizophrenic writers get more awards?"
"This is painful. I hope it's at least making me smarter."
"The past and future of the humanities is very troubling. Yes. I should definitely be spending my time worrying about this instead of how to pay my mortgage this month like everyone else."
------------------------------------------------
OK, moving on... As I got further along, I started to be reminded of my undergraduate philosophy days. There's that feeling of not being sure that you're getting the whole picture, then realizing that feeling is actually the point. The story, of course, is not really about the stuffy, worn-out, overrated author who it's impossible to like and difficult to even sympathize with. It's not even truly about the humanities, animal rights, religion, the holocaust, or any of the topics covered by the lectures and discussions of Costello and friends.
By my humble reading and impression, I think it's fundamentally concerned with how (or maybe why, or even whether) we come to believe what we believe. It also grapples with the idea that we are stripped of our dignity as we age.
In short, I hated the book. But I loved how it moved me. My impression has an uncanny resemblance to the feelings evoked by Costello's character. Nobody really likes what she has to say, and yet, they keep commissioning her lectures and inviting her to these fancy dinners. Hmmm. Deep, I think.
It's a must read, but don't expect it to sing to you. You have to work for this one and that's the point. I think.
Highly intelligent novel by the Nobel-Prize-winning author.
Story of a woman author, told through formal speeches she is asked to give during her professional life.
A dry, well-written narrative about a grand dame the rest of the world has decided is past her age. If this were made into a movie, the title character would be played by Judi Dench.
Never read
