The Marriage of Opposites by Alice Hoffman

Published by Simon & Schuster on August 4, 2015

When writers choose to write fictional accounts of the lives of real people, the novel's success depends in part on whether they are writing about interesting people. I was more interested in the characters who appear in the second half of The Marriage of Opposites than those who appear in the first half, so I judged the novel as only a partial success. Although the most interesting character is the painter Camille Pissarro, we see very little of his artistic career in a novel that centers upon the lackluster life of Camille's mother.

In search of religious freedom, the Pomié family settled in St. Thomas in the late 1700s. Rachel Pomié begins her story in 1807. She grows up feeling oppressed by a mother who believes no purpose is served by her education. She longs for a civilized life in France, the country of her grandparents. Ten years later, as a dutiful daughter, she saves her family from financial ruin by consenting to an arranged marriage.

Rachel's childhood friend is Jestine, whose mother was a slave and who, like her mother, works as a maid. Jestine has a child, fathered by a lover who has been more-or-less adopted by Rachel's parents. The novel eventually turns into an extended family history that traces the lives of Rachel, Jestine and her illegitimate daughter, and Jacobo, one of Rachel's many children. Jacobo later adopts his middle name, Camille, while attending school in France.

Rachel has the qualities a modern author values in women -- emotional strength, intelligence, independence, courage -- making her seem a bit like the archetype of a modern woman who has been transplanted into early nineteenth century soil. Rachel's mother chastises Rachel for failing to accept that she is "a woman and nothing more," a fairly obvious device that Alice Hoffman uses to inspire sympathy for Rachel in her twenty-first century readers. Rachel is also kind, unprejudiced, passionate, level-headed, a loving mother to her children and step-children, a friend to servants, an opponent of slavery -- all admirable qualities that make her a little too perfect (at least until the end, when she begins to demonstrate some of her mother's inflexibility).

Rachel is headstrong and willing to defy convention in the name of love, which makes her a stereotypical romance novel heroine. She becomes something of an outcast, particularly among the gossipy members of her religious community. To the extent that The Marriage of Opposites is about the conflict between a community's judgment of a woman's moral values and a good woman's desire to follow her heart, it is an old story. Absent a fresh approach that is lacking here, the story just isn't very interesting. Adding a ghost (who is probably in Rachel's head) and a wise old herbalist simply accented Hoffman's use of literary devices that have been used many times before.

The first part of the novel, detailing Rachel's first and second marriages, cover familiar ground. Thanks to well-polished prose, events whiz along, but I was more taken by the descriptions of life in St. Thomas than by the various dramas with which Rachel must contend. At the novel's midway point, the story shifts to Jacobo, an artistic lad with the soul of a peacemaker. The novel later shifts to Paris, where Jestine's daughter lives and where Jacobo (now Camille) is trying to be an artist. All of this is easy to read but none of it grabbed me.

There is nevertheless much about the novel to admire, in addition to its faultless prose. The Marriage of Opposites illustrates how patterns learned early in life tend to shape us even when we despise those patterns. Rachel, for instance, cannot abide her mother's meddling in her life and resents all that she has been forbidden from doing, yet as she ages, she imposes her own prejudices upon Camille. Much of the story is about confronting the past, discovering roots, and coming to terms with heritage or family. To a lesser extent, it is about the destructive insularity of only befriending or doing business with members of the same race or religion. Those are worthy themes but they are not wrapped within a compelling story.

Love stories are scattered throughout the novel, providing occasional dramatic peaks, generally advancing the theme that love overcomes differences of class and race and (perhaps) religion, although characters tend to have more difficulty overcoming religious prejudices than others. Camille's struggle with romance might be the most interesting but it is relegated to only a few pages toward the novel's end. Other ordinary dramas of life -- births out of wedlock, snubs, spats, jealousies -- round out the story without contributing much in the way of energy. While the novel, like Rachel, sort of fizzles out in the end, there is enough to admire in this fairly dull story to earn it a guarded recommendation.

RECOMMENDED

The Other Side of Silence by Bill Pronzini

First published in 2008; published in digital edition by Open Road Media on May 19, 2015

Too many noir writers adopt a style that reads like a parody of noir. Bill Pronzini's style is understated but definitely noir. I always enjoy his books because the plots are believable, the story moves quickly, and the characters have a reasonable amount of depth.

After Rick Fallon's son dies, so does his marriage. He leaves the urban stress of Encino for the emptiness of Death Valley. While hiking, he comes across a woman in distress. Fallon helps her because it feels like the right thing to do.

The woman's son has been taken. Fallon's efforts to find him take him on a tour of the Southwest, from Death Valley to Vegas to San Diego and places like Laughlin and Indio. Pronzini always creates a sense of place without bogging the story down in unnecessary detail. Fallon comes across a mix of believable characters during his travels, most of whom are a mixture of good and bad, as people tend to be.

This isn't so much a "whodunit" as it is a "who did what?" story. The Other Side of Silence is a quiet little novel. I wouldn't call it a thriller or even a suspense novel. The Other Side of Silence is a throwback to the days when crime fiction focused on characters and motivations rather than loving descriptions of weapons, martial arts moves, and ridiculous plots that are meant to be heart-stopping.

To the extent that this is a novel about a man who saves himself by saving others, it might be a little hokey, but by telling a believable story, Pronzini convinced me that the novel is more uplifting than hokey.

RECOMMENDED

The State We're In by Ann Beattie

Published by Scribner on August 11, 2015

The stories in The State We're In are snapshots of women at different stages of life. Nearly all of the action takes place in New England (mostly in Maine) although some memories and peripheral events occur in California and New York. Several of the stories are linked by characters or events. Each can be read without reference to any other story, but reading them together gives them additional weight.

Some stories are about young girls who are unraveling the mysteries of life. The first entry delves into the mind of Jocelyn, a high school student who can't quite wrap her mind around the future, isn't terribly engaged with the present, and doesn't know what to make of magical realism. "What Magical Realism Would Be" is one of my favorites in the collection. Jocelyn is still wondering about magical realism in "Endless Rain into a Paper Cup" but the perspective shifts to third person and the story -- more eventful than the first -- broadens to include her ill mother, the kindly uncle and batty aunt who are taking care of her, and a friend who tried who commit suicide. Jocelyn also narrates the last story, "The Repurposed Barn." She still can't pull a "B" on her English essays (punctuation puzzles her) and her aunt is upset that Jocelyn's mother, freshly out of the hospital, is dating a recovering addict, but Jocelyn has an epiphany that helps her make a connection between life and literature while she watches Elvis lamps being sold at an auction.

Other portraits of youth involve a girl who ponders what to do about a baby bird that fell from its nest ("The Fledgling") and a girl who learns that life is "a rocky road to death" from an aunt who attends Gatsby-like parties and wears the wire baskets that hold champagne corks in place under her bra to enhance her nipples ("Aunt Sophie Renaldo Brown").

Two of my favorites deal with older women. In "Yancey," a 77-year-old poet discusses poetry, her annoying family, and her aging dog with an IRS agent. The 74-year-old writer in "Missed Calls" has a gossipy lunch with a young writer who interviews her about her brief encounters with Truman Capote, but the woman's glimpse of the young man's anguish over his goddaughter's odd behavior provides the story's drama, showcasing the difference between a woman starting adulthood and a woman nearing the end of hers.

The narrator of "Duff's Done Enough" is an author who explains the pinprick of inspiration after her landlady, a woman of 74, introduces her to a story-filled neighbor of 82 who just changed his name from Chip to Duff. The narrator of "Elvis Ahead of Us" ponders the life of the neighbor who moved away after putting his house on the market, leaving behind his collection of ... you guessed it ... Elvis lamps.

Some stories are about the power of memories. A woman reflects upon the summer she turned 21, finding symbolism in a pair of deliberately overturned Adirondack chairs ("Adirondack Chairs"). Another woman looks back at a summer in her younger life and the casual friendship she had with her male roommate ("Major Maybe").

"Silent Prayer," a sweet story told in the third person, is largely a coded conversation between a husband and wife -- the kind married couples have that only make sense to them. Another strong story, consisting almost entirely of dialog, is a bedroom conversation by aging parents who are glad that their children do not visit too often ("The Stroke").

Rounding out the collection are two stories that felt less substantial. In "Road Movie," a woman who checks into a motel with a man who is cheating on his girlfriend can't get the man to talk about their relationship and, on the telephone, can't get her mother to stop talking about it. "The Little Hutchinsons" introduces a woman who feels guilt when her refusal to do an odd favor for a friend has unintended consequences.

None of these stories are duds and the best of them are masterful. Exquisite prose and startling observations make the entire collection worth reading.

RECOMMENDED

Woman of the Dead by Bernhard Aichner

First published in Germany in 2014; published in translation by Scribner on August 25, 2015

The adopted daughter of a funeral director, Blum has been groomed for the family business. As Woman of the Dead opens, she is getting revenge not just for the lack of love with which she was raised, but for the abuse she experienced from the time she was seven.

Eight years later, Blum has two children with Mark, the police officer who responded to her call for help when her parents disappeared. But this is a thriller, so Blum's idyllic life lasts for only a chapter before Mark is gone and the real story begins.

The real story involves an undocumented Moldavian woman named Dunya who paid to be smuggled into Austria. Dunya tells Blum that Mark was investigating her escape from five masked men who repeatedly raped and tortured her. Blum learns that Dunya was skeptical of Mark's willingness to assist her and that Mark's partner was skeptical of Dunya's truthfulness. As a shield against her own pain, Blum becomes obsessed with Dunya's story of abduction, confinement, and inhuman treatment.

When Mark can no longer pursue the truth, Blum takes up the cause. The men she pursues might be innocent or guilty or something in between. Whether Blum is heroic or a psychopath, whether the men do or do not deserve vigilante "justice," and whether justice is what they receive are the questions that drive's the novel's early suspense. Unfortunately, Bernhard Aichner fails to sustain that suspense despite telling the story in an engaging style.

Aichner provides atmosphere but never burdens the narrative with unnecessary detail. Descriptions of Dunya's torture are not graphic so sensitive readers should be able to read Woman of the Dead without discomfort. While violence pervades the novel, it is understated.

The disturbed nature of certain characters is taken as a given but never explored. The motivations of particularly monstrous (but outwardly charming) characters are left unexplained. I view that as a shortcoming in a novel that is more a psychological drama than a thriller.

One of my primary complaints about Woman of the Dead is that Blum accomplishes much of her mission too easily. People do things she asks (or compels) them to do without putting up much of a struggle. That struck me as unrealistic. The ease with which Blum acts also deprives the story of the dramatic tension that readers expect in this kind of novel. My other complaint is that two supposedly shocking revelations -- one at the end, one near the end -- are much too predictable to come as a shock. That also drained the novel of its potential drama.

Woman of the Dead is moderately entertaining despite its flaws. Prose that is spare and graceful allows the story to move quickly. The novel's structure -- short scenes that sometimes jumble time -- is interesting. I liked the way the story is told more than I liked the story, but I would recommend it subject to those reservations.

RECOMMENDED WITH RESERVATIONS

Deathbird Stories by Harlan Ellision

First published in 1975; published digitally and in trade paperback by Open Road Media on June 3, 2014

I read Deathbird Stories in paperback in the late 1970s. At that time, I did not think it was one of Harlan Ellison's stronger collections. Rereading it after its recent re-release in digital form, I revised my opinion. Some of the stories are powerful -- you expect that from Ellison -- but others are subtle. I think I missed the subtlety the first time. Maybe I ignored Ellison's advice and read them all at once. This time I read one each day and that may have enhanced my appreciation of the collection as a whole.

The stories generally revolve around a central theme. The god(s) once worshiped have been replaced by more malevolent forces. The new gods are rage, greed, sadism, narcissism, alienation, selfishness, and similar characteristics that good people try not to nurture. The new gods are slot machines, guns, drugs, advertising, and anything that can be conspicuously consumed. Ellison's point seems to be that modern life has made it difficult to distinguish the angels from the demons.

Each story is preceded by an introductory sentence or two. "Paingod" is preceded by "If God is good, why does He send us pain and misery?" The answer that this excellent story delivers seems to be: because we deserve it. Maybe we even need it.

In the standout story "Ernest and the Machine God," a manipulative woman learns that God might be a lunatic but He protects the innocent. Also riffing on the notion of God's madness is "Deathbird," which suggests that the serpent might be more trustworthy than God or that man, in the end, might be more powerful than God. My favorite portion of "Deathbird" is Ellison's moving tribute to the dog that inspired "A Boy and His Dog."

The most powerful story was inspired by the infamous murder of Kitty Genovese, a murder that several New Yorkers watched without trying to intervene. "The Whimper of Whipped Dogs" tells of a woman who encounters a city grown malicious after she watches a woman being murdered and does nothing to help. Like the movie Taxi Driver, the story is about the changes that the "insane asylum of steel and stone" we call a city forces upon its inhabitants.

In another powerful story, a man who desperately wants to die searches for his lost soul and is surprised by what he finds. A touching story about wasted lives, "Adrift Just Off the Islets of Langerhans" might be my favorite in the collection.

One of the best of the subtle stories is "Corpse," a meditation on abandoned vehicles and down-trending gods. Another quietly impressive story, "On the Downhill Side," introduces a man and a woman (and a unicorn) who spend a night in conversation, their one chance to end their ghostly punishment for mistakes of love.

Other stories I admired are:

"Along the Scenic Route" - Drivers vent their road rage via government-sanctioned duels.

"O Ye of Little Faith" - A man who denies love, who self-indulgently isolates himself, who believes in nothing, discovers the truth about himself when no one believes in him.

"The Basilisk" - A captured soldier, in an unnamed war that is clearly Vietnam with the addition of biblical beasts, betrays his country under torture and is, in turn, betrayed by his family, friends, and the town in which he grew up.

"Pretty Maggie Moneyeyes" - A loser puts his last silver dollar in a slot machine and wins -- and wins again and again -- but he isn't the first person to be sucked into the machine.

"The Place With No Name" - A pimp, fleeing from the scene of a murder and chased by the police, is offered an escape -- and a chance to meet Prometheus, and maybe even to wear a crown of thorns.

"Rock God" - A shady developer falls prey to an awakening rock god (the Stonehenge variety, not Eddie Van Halen).

Rounding out the collection are stories I enjoyed less, but none of them are bad:

"Neon" - A man whose life is saved is given odd surgical enhancements (a neon coil, a metal finger, and a glowing red eye) finds himself haunted by messages of love.

"Shattered Like a Glass Goblin" - In a story that seems more dated than the others, residents of a drug house turn into monsters.

"Delusion for a Dragon Slayer" - Given the chance to prove his fitness for entrance into Heaven, a man is defeated by his own vanity.

"The Face of Helene Bournouw" - A beautiful woman is actually a succubus, programmed by demons.

"Bleeding Stones" - Gargoyles on a St. Patrick's Cathedral come to life and ravish nuns.

"At the Mouse Circus" - Dreams don't always work out in the way you expect.

None of Ellison's very best stories are found in this volume, but even second-tier Ellison is better than the first-tier work of most writers.

RECOMMENDED