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The Last Time They Met
Jul. 25th, 2009 08:53 amJump: Aitkin, MN → Hugo, MN – Lions Club Park: 55 miles
Follow arrows out of the lot the way we came in… RIGHT onto HWY 107 SOUTH
LEFT onto HWY 65 SOUTH to Cambridge… take exit for HWY 95 and turn LEFT
I-35 SOUTH to EXIT #123—CO RD 8 and turn LEFT to Hugo… arrows to the lot
Shows at 2pm/4:30pm
Got goose bumps when I read the last line of The Last Time They Met (Anita Shreve.)
Central conceit’s been used before – most recently in Atonement (The Big Novel a few summers ago) but I wasn’t expecting it here. Though I note that Shreve, like all good mystery writers, had certainly set the reader up to expect it – the weird syntax of the italicized dialogue in the two sections before the last; the woman standing in front of the hotel mirror who has forgotten the details of the journey that brought her there.
Well done.
And yet…
The novel doesn’t work. Why? Because it’s a novel about a man written by someone who doesn’t actually understand how men think, whose style and sensibilities are very feminine. The POV character is completely unbelievable – men just don’t behave that way. Yeah, yeah, heterosexual men can be haunted by Lost Love but they sublimate differently than women do; when passion becomes the central organizing principle, it’s more of a compass than a to-do list. (I’m articulating badly; it’s early in the morning.)
So the book is really just an extremely well done romance novel.
I think this is why Shreve (though a gifted stylist) will always be relegated to the chick lit shelf, while Alice Munro (who uses many of the same stylistic mannerisms) is a great writer. Munro channels her characters more authentically.
Follow arrows out of the lot the way we came in… RIGHT onto HWY 107 SOUTH
LEFT onto HWY 65 SOUTH to Cambridge… take exit for HWY 95 and turn LEFT
I-35 SOUTH to EXIT #123—CO RD 8 and turn LEFT to Hugo… arrows to the lot
Shows at 2pm/4:30pm
Got goose bumps when I read the last line of The Last Time They Met (Anita Shreve.)
Central conceit’s been used before – most recently in Atonement (The Big Novel a few summers ago) but I wasn’t expecting it here. Though I note that Shreve, like all good mystery writers, had certainly set the reader up to expect it – the weird syntax of the italicized dialogue in the two sections before the last; the woman standing in front of the hotel mirror who has forgotten the details of the journey that brought her there.
Well done.
And yet…
The novel doesn’t work. Why? Because it’s a novel about a man written by someone who doesn’t actually understand how men think, whose style and sensibilities are very feminine. The POV character is completely unbelievable – men just don’t behave that way. Yeah, yeah, heterosexual men can be haunted by Lost Love but they sublimate differently than women do; when passion becomes the central organizing principle, it’s more of a compass than a to-do list. (I’m articulating badly; it’s early in the morning.)
So the book is really just an extremely well done romance novel.
I think this is why Shreve (though a gifted stylist) will always be relegated to the chick lit shelf, while Alice Munro (who uses many of the same stylistic mannerisms) is a great writer. Munro channels her characters more authentically.
