Irène Némirovsky
I'm not going to scale this book, because you can't honestly scale a rough draft, which is what Suite Francaise is. It was handwritten during WWII, in a notebook, by a woman who did not live to see the completion of her planned work. Composed of two short books, entitled "A Storm in June" and "Dolce," Suite Francaise is remarkable, both because even in rough draft form it's in very little need of polishing, and because it was written so well under dire and terrible conditions. Married and a mother of two small girls, Némirovsky was both Russian and of Jewish descent, living in France under Nazi occupation and at a time when Germany had been attacked by and was engaged in war with Russia. In addition to the obvious stress that living with the fear of interment would cause, the German government froze her bank accounts and ordered her publishers to continue to deposit all payments owed to her into those accounts (as they did with all Jewish artists), greatly hindering Némirovsky from accessing her income. In addition, publication of works created by foreigners and Jews was forbidden, effectively severing her revenue stream. She was deported to Auschwitz in July, 1942, where she died one month later. Her children kept her notebook as a memento of their mother, believing it to be a diary. It was not until they had long grown into adults that eldest daughter Denise could bring herself to read the notebook and realized that what she held was her mother's final work.
I fully expected the book to be very sad and tragic, and for it to upset me. But Némirovsky's pragmatism comes across in the storytelling. People die, but they do so dispassionately. Their deaths may be violent, but they are also matter-of-fact: this is war - people die. I regret she was unable to finish the entire work, as both Storm and Dolce are vivid works full of memorable characters one can not help but think must be drawn from those Némirovsky knew in real life. They are detestable and not, honorable and not, and all their motives are made clear - Némirovsky does not leave the reader to guess at intentions, nor does she make excuses for their being or behaviour. Things are what they are. Némirovsky is a keenly visual storyteller, and I think Suite Francaise is probably a very good description of life in occupied France during the first few years of the war. It's a great loss that Némirovsky did not live through the war to document its end as she did the beginning.
Suite Francaise is translated from the French by Sandra Smith, who seems to have done an excellent job. My only quibble with her work is that she left uncorrected a few things which Némirovsky would obviously have chosen to correct. She says she did so out of the desire to demonstrate the circumstances of its writing, but I feel it was a disservice to Némirovsky and her work to leave them as they were. I strongly recommend you read both appendices and the Preface to the French Edition of Suite Francaise, located at the back of the book. I started with the first appendix, which contains various of her notes on the writing and what she hoped to achieve, as well as her final journal entry, 2 days before she was taken. I then read the book and finished with the second appendix and the preface, both of which deal with the end days of Némirovsky's life and its effect on those who knew her, itself worthy of a book. I feel sad Némirovsky was unable to finish her opus and that her life was ended as it was. She was a gifted storyteller. And as a human being, she deserved better.
Showing posts with label squee. Show all posts
Showing posts with label squee. Show all posts
Tuesday, November 10, 2009
Wednesday, January 14, 2009
Best Read of 2008
I read a lot of books last year, and by far the best-written (and my favorite) was Nicholas Drayson's "A Guide to the Birds of East Africa," a quietly vivid and charming novel about love with an unlikely hero. It's really been too long since I read it to review it now, but I refer you to this blog entry by a birdwatcher who also dug it. I agree with his review wholeheartedly, except for the ornithological stuff, since I'm not a birder and couldn't comment one way or the other on that aspect of either the novel or his review. :)
Saturday, November 15, 2008
The Miraculous Journey of Edward Tulane
Kate DiCamillo
Scale of 1-10: 10
Pros: Great writing - DiCamillo really knows her audience, but she also writes bedtime stories, perfect for reading aloud and good reading for the adult, not just the child. The illustrations at the beginning of each chapter are fantastic, and there are full page color plates throughout.
Cons: None. It might be nice if there were more color plates, but not necessary.
Synopsis: Vain and heartless, porcelain rabbit Edward Tulane falls overboard on an ocean cruise with the little girl who loves him and through a series of miracles and mishaps, learns to care for others.
My take:
DiCamillo has really quite outdone herself with this one. It's bound to become a classic. It's easily read aloud, with DiCamillo's trademark short chapters and easy language, and Edward is very well-developed; children should have no problem identifying with him as he becomes more real. The story moves very well and will hold young readers' interest. I read the whole thing through in about an hour, maybe an hour and a half - I just did not want to put it down. DiCamillo makes excellent use of language, capturing a time when little girls had porcelain rabbit toys with real rabbit fur ears and tales and complete wardrobes with pocket watches but still making the book's voice easily accessible to younger readers. It flows well and makes excellent bedtime reading.
The story isn't just about a rabbit's journey, however. It's about love and learning to love. It's also about loss, as throughout his journey, Edward is separated from each of the persons he learns to love, until once again he is reunited with the little girl who loves him so well at the book's beginning. All the characters are very well-written and whole, not just characters who serve as foils for the main character. One wants to know more about them and how they fare - I wished they could all be reunited with Edward. There's more than a bit of melancholy in the tale, as Edward learns to love and each person he learns to love is in turn lost to him, but it's a marvelous kind of melancholy, building always to a happy ending. The epilogue made me cry, but it made me cry in a great way, as Edward lives happily ever after with the girl he has learned to love with all his heart and soul.
I can't sing the praises of this book highly enough. It was nominated for a Quills Award and won a Boston Globe Horn Book Award, but I find it shocking and appalling for it not to be a Newbery Winner. It really should be. If you can get it in hard cover, it's well worth the price.
Scale of 1-10: 10
Pros: Great writing - DiCamillo really knows her audience, but she also writes bedtime stories, perfect for reading aloud and good reading for the adult, not just the child. The illustrations at the beginning of each chapter are fantastic, and there are full page color plates throughout.
Cons: None. It might be nice if there were more color plates, but not necessary.
Synopsis: Vain and heartless, porcelain rabbit Edward Tulane falls overboard on an ocean cruise with the little girl who loves him and through a series of miracles and mishaps, learns to care for others.
My take:
DiCamillo has really quite outdone herself with this one. It's bound to become a classic. It's easily read aloud, with DiCamillo's trademark short chapters and easy language, and Edward is very well-developed; children should have no problem identifying with him as he becomes more real. The story moves very well and will hold young readers' interest. I read the whole thing through in about an hour, maybe an hour and a half - I just did not want to put it down. DiCamillo makes excellent use of language, capturing a time when little girls had porcelain rabbit toys with real rabbit fur ears and tales and complete wardrobes with pocket watches but still making the book's voice easily accessible to younger readers. It flows well and makes excellent bedtime reading.
The story isn't just about a rabbit's journey, however. It's about love and learning to love. It's also about loss, as throughout his journey, Edward is separated from each of the persons he learns to love, until once again he is reunited with the little girl who loves him so well at the book's beginning. All the characters are very well-written and whole, not just characters who serve as foils for the main character. One wants to know more about them and how they fare - I wished they could all be reunited with Edward. There's more than a bit of melancholy in the tale, as Edward learns to love and each person he learns to love is in turn lost to him, but it's a marvelous kind of melancholy, building always to a happy ending. The epilogue made me cry, but it made me cry in a great way, as Edward lives happily ever after with the girl he has learned to love with all his heart and soul.
I can't sing the praises of this book highly enough. It was nominated for a Quills Award and won a Boston Globe Horn Book Award, but I find it shocking and appalling for it not to be a Newbery Winner. It really should be. If you can get it in hard cover, it's well worth the price.
Labels:
children,
classic in the making,
fiction,
read aloud,
squee
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
