We Need To Talk About Kevin
Occasionally I get asked why I even bother to continue reading newer books since I am continually insulted, embarrassed, infuriated, bored (etc, etc, etc) by a *very* high percentage of them. Well, believe it or not, that cascade of emotion(s) is not a desired effect; the game plan is to find a good read. Absurdly, this is getting to be harder than looking for the whattayacallit it in the haystack and more oft than not I find myself apologizing to trees that their brethren were slaughtered and pressed for such unworthy scars of ink.
Usually I use what I call the ‘domino effect’ to find new books of interest; xx writer mentioned s/he likes yy writer, so maybe yy is pretty good. Not always the case, but statistically it’s at least ok.
So, recently I came across a writer named Lionel Shriver and her newest book entitled _We Need to Talk About Kevin_ (2003). It came up on a Google search with “Amy Hempel”, who remains a favourite of mine.
So, dominos in place, I ordered a copy of the book.
Not knowing anything about the novel (I don’t read reviews or even dust-jacket blurbs) I was a bit tentative as I’m…not…a big…fan of children (putting it mucho mildly).
And I saw the writing layout was a series of letters, which I think has saturated the market a bit, or maybe I’ve just read too many at once (recently Amy Hempel, Chuck Palahniuk, Lydia Davis, among others, have all published stories in letter-style (Hempel’s was wonderful though). Hell, I even started writing one before being dismayed by that)…but I was immediately taken in by the story. And this format works exceptionally well, as challenging as it is as a concept for an entire 400 page novel.
Very briefly, each chapter is a correspondence, or better yet, her own term, “respondence” by the mother of a teenaged boy who is now in jail for a Columbine-like incident [if this is already an outdated or obsolete term: kiddies, these means the kid killed some fellow students on school property] to her husband, as they’ve separated since the incident.
(none of that was a spoiler of any sort, so don’t fret)
And I’ll really just leave it at that. Look into it. You may love it, you may hate it.
But I think you’ll stick with it.
Deftly written and an engaging, and dare I say an *important* novel.
Here’s the little bit I added to the site:
http://www.amyhempel.com/shriver.htm
This novel was also just awarded the Orange Prize (in the UK) and very deservedly so, which I say (write) with trepidation, as I can’t recall the last time a book deservingly won an award. Award, these days, seems to immediately devalue a work.
In the US a hardcover edition is available (pictured on the above site) and a blisteringly horribly covered trade paperback (note to commercial artists: be creative! Make us curious about a book! Idiots!), and no slight to Counterpoint (
http://www.perseusbooksgroup.com/counterpoint/home.jsp), who publishes some good stuff - but if you buy that edition, pretend the cover is, say, an image of a bunch of snapped crayons. Or a squirt gun leaking ink, be it blood red or black. Something, you know, other than: a picture of a boy. Something that makes you think.
Or order the UK edition, the company offers free shipping internationally:
http://www.serpentstail.com/
I’ve already sent out several copies and also encouraged the local English book shop to carry more copies (they had two, now they have one).
So, this is what it’s all about: finding new writers to follow.
Shriver’s been around for a bit, this is her 7th novel, and she’s articled many an upstanding periodical, so finally she’s getting her due.
Apparently it’s not just mediocrity that continually rises to the top.
So I’m going to go virtually hunt up the rest of her books and read the rest of the interviews (she’s the best interviewee I’ve read in years, not many admit to reading crap books with “I only got through it because I had to review it. Bloody awful,” which of course is more fitting a review than the one she will have to submit to an editor)…
The few of you that actually break the circle of mundane pap, read this book. If you can’t find a copy, I’ll send you one.
j
“The prospect of being enveloped into any family had all the appeal of getting stuck in an elevator between floors.” _We Need To Talk About Kevin_ p. 143