If the purpose of this exercise is in part to challenge myself to read stuff out of my comfort zone, then it certainly suceeded with this book. Rachel Cusk's novel is the story of the residents of an affluent suburb over the course of a single day. That is to say, it is the story of the female inhabitants, the husbands are otherworldly creatures, mostly discussed off screen aside from a couple of telling interventions.
This is an excellently written book. Cusk's prose style is vivid and poetic, though maybe a trifle overdone for my taste at times, but you're still in no doubt that you're in the hands of a writer who has an ear for a lyrical turn of phrase and excellent command of language. And the first chapter was something of a showstopper with Juliet, a teacher, seething with resentment at what her life could have been, reflecting on how her past glories have been subsumed by the greater glories of her husband, Benedict. In one particularly telling line she says "all men murder their wives". He has gone on to acclaim and success for his inspirational work at a disadvantaged school, and Juliet's left with the childcare.
Frankly, if you as a man are not uneasy reading this chapter then well, either well done you for being perfect, or get your head out of your arse you fucking idiot. This chapter resonated, sang with rage and certainly hit fairly close to home. What with the nature of my work I'm home at odd times, and opening a business and going off chasing after my dreams at the precise same time as starting a family I'd be the worst sort of isiot if I didn't see some resonances here (though I reckon I'm a bit better with the housework than Benedict, my wife may disagree). Juliet has in a sense been murdered by Benedict, she is unsure as to what she could have become, the star pupil turned homemaker. She feels the loss of potential futures keenly
Unfortunately the rest of the book doesn't quite live up to this opener. The next one we meet, Amanda, is one note, oh, you're the tidy but soulless materialist, and whilst the rest of the cast are more interesting they rather feel like sketches: the preganant one, the aspirational one, the one who secretly hates her kids. Cusk is sharp on their grievances, and undoubtedly perceptive and accurate in documenting their dissatisfactions, but too often it feels a little forced, there's not enough light to go with the shade.
Equally, in the final analysis, I find it hard to get that worked up about the lives of affluent suburbians. There is an element of inverse snobbery at play here, of course, but, with the notable exception of Juliet, you struggle to understand what the problem is. Or maybe that's Cusk's point, dissatisfaction is a natural state. It's telling that the most optimistic character, Christine (not coincidentally also the one from the most working class background) is full of wonder at why they aren't all enjoying themsleves more. I enjoyed myself a bit, certainly more than the charcares, and it certainly provided some food for though, now if you'll excuse me, I'd best go and do some laundry....
This is an excellently written book. Cusk's prose style is vivid and poetic, though maybe a trifle overdone for my taste at times, but you're still in no doubt that you're in the hands of a writer who has an ear for a lyrical turn of phrase and excellent command of language. And the first chapter was something of a showstopper with Juliet, a teacher, seething with resentment at what her life could have been, reflecting on how her past glories have been subsumed by the greater glories of her husband, Benedict. In one particularly telling line she says "all men murder their wives". He has gone on to acclaim and success for his inspirational work at a disadvantaged school, and Juliet's left with the childcare.
Frankly, if you as a man are not uneasy reading this chapter then well, either well done you for being perfect, or get your head out of your arse you fucking idiot. This chapter resonated, sang with rage and certainly hit fairly close to home. What with the nature of my work I'm home at odd times, and opening a business and going off chasing after my dreams at the precise same time as starting a family I'd be the worst sort of isiot if I didn't see some resonances here (though I reckon I'm a bit better with the housework than Benedict, my wife may disagree). Juliet has in a sense been murdered by Benedict, she is unsure as to what she could have become, the star pupil turned homemaker. She feels the loss of potential futures keenly
Unfortunately the rest of the book doesn't quite live up to this opener. The next one we meet, Amanda, is one note, oh, you're the tidy but soulless materialist, and whilst the rest of the cast are more interesting they rather feel like sketches: the preganant one, the aspirational one, the one who secretly hates her kids. Cusk is sharp on their grievances, and undoubtedly perceptive and accurate in documenting their dissatisfactions, but too often it feels a little forced, there's not enough light to go with the shade.
Equally, in the final analysis, I find it hard to get that worked up about the lives of affluent suburbians. There is an element of inverse snobbery at play here, of course, but, with the notable exception of Juliet, you struggle to understand what the problem is. Or maybe that's Cusk's point, dissatisfaction is a natural state. It's telling that the most optimistic character, Christine (not coincidentally also the one from the most working class background) is full of wonder at why they aren't all enjoying themsleves more. I enjoyed myself a bit, certainly more than the charcares, and it certainly provided some food for though, now if you'll excuse me, I'd best go and do some laundry....
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