Your review has me thinking about something I see as a "deja vu effect" in today's culture (apologies for missing diacritics). I don't know how to make this observation not sound grumpy (so, I guess, I will also add an apology for that) but I think you are on to something when you point out that while Updike is now deeply uncool (has a male protagonist behaving badly in a marriage and thinking ill of women), July could be said to explore similar territory in her novel but with a protagonist more acceptable to contemporary audiences. I find it difficult not to think that "bad behavior" has been culturally cordoned off as a topic to be explored by some demographics and not others. I don't think it gets us to a particularly creative place, and in fact I think that it makes the whole concept of fiction less legible, uncomfortably tethered to artists' lives and things we can look up about them.
Yeah, I do think there are a lot of unspoken rules around who is allowed to behave badly in fiction and still be considered a sympathetic character, but I also think we have a reduced tolerance for asshole protagonists in general (especially men but women too). Sometimes it's bracing to go back and look at the texts of the sexual revolution and see what those protagonists got away with. I remember watching the movie "Alfie," thinking it was going to be about a charming cad, and actually being shocked by how cruel and callous he is to his girlfriend. Now the landscape has changed — I see people on twitter/wherever making fun of novels about male professors having affairs with their students, but I don't think anyone is really publishing those anymore. And All Fours is so careful to keep its protagonist from doing anything truly bad.
I like your pairing with Updike. He has been on my mind for a while. I wondered if his writing "mattered" or whether it was just privilege. (By the way...love his short stories.). When I read All Fours, I enjoyed the narrator's voice. But I wonder of Rabbit, Run could get published now. I wonder if the pain that Harry causes (throughout his entire life and death) are too scarring for the modern publisher. Or, is it that we won' let women write novels where they hurt someone and aren't sorry to do it. Do we only publish Morality Plays now? (Taffy, I am looking at you. You too Sally).
My experience with reading Rabbit, Run was to be bowled over by the writing but also thinking at regular intervals: Christ, what an asshole. I don't think it or a similar novel by a man would get published now. Some of the short stories are indeed wonderful! As for morality plays, I really don't like when a novel seems to be delivering Lessons for the reader (in AF I felt this the most in the menopause sections).
Interesting. It's almost refreshing to read an actual book critique. Bravo.
I was disappointed in her last movie, but as a visual artist myself I understand that they can't all be "winners." I still think she's an important artist, (I remember when she was doing zines!) but frankly the premise doesn't do much for me. I think I'll pass on this one...even though I'm intrigued by work that is so polarizing. What a conundrum.
I too read things I don't end up liking. I appreciate you sharing the courage of your convictions. I agree, if you can sum up the book so easily in a short essay because there is no complicated messiness making the characters and the story interesting, that's all we need to read! Not that I could do as well as even the worst novelist!
It's generated so much Discourse that probably a lot of people can feel like they've read it without having to actually acquire a copy! And here I am, contributing to this.
A long time ago, I read a Mailer novel. I've forgotten which one. It was full of sex and transgression. I was his target audience, and I loved it. Really, the book was terrible. There is no doubt that it doesn't hold up. It's sort of an embarrassment both to me now and to the author then, how capturing a moment or a type of character may not lead to a lasting work.
If I read All Fours, I'd probably like it too. That doesn't mean I'd think it was good either. Which begs: good in what way? I mean good in the sense of pointing out the foibles of ourselves and the lasting conundrum of the human condition and doing it well.
The fact that I can, and in general we can read something, enjoy it, and simultaneously recognize it as only good for that, is very much part of what makes something good, even when it's bad!
Then again, Updike and Mailer did have a sort of rivalry going if I recall correctly, and just because - I'm not going to search to see if I made that up!
What’s with the classism ? The narrators young paramour is a struggling dancer who goes on to achieve success in the arts . There is no young pop princess , the singer in the story is close to the narrators age and is also a mother . Updike is a truly entitled pig who used to hassle the waitresses at the restaurant I worked at post college . I had to throw him out once when he took it upon himself to open up a closed section , so he wouldn’t have to wait for a table . Comparing a misogynist who practiced the concepts that he preached in his work to a radical feminist is a stretch . This is a book about peri menopause
The pop princess I was referring to is not the megastar Arkanda but Caro, Harris's music protégée, who is described as twenty-seven years old (and who the narrator definitely feels sexually threatened by). And I don't think it's irrelevant or classist to point out that the protagonist's lover comes from a different sphere. This is part of what makes their connection surprising — the narrator herself dwells repeatedly on how he works at Hertz, how unusual it is for her to have a fling with a car rental guy. And she definitely feels proud of being able to use her financial advantage to help him out. Updike and July certainly have different politics, especially gender politics, but that doesn't mean their novels have nothing in common thematically, as I illustrate in the piece. FWIW I don't find anything particularly radical about the politics in this novel.
Your review has me thinking about something I see as a "deja vu effect" in today's culture (apologies for missing diacritics). I don't know how to make this observation not sound grumpy (so, I guess, I will also add an apology for that) but I think you are on to something when you point out that while Updike is now deeply uncool (has a male protagonist behaving badly in a marriage and thinking ill of women), July could be said to explore similar territory in her novel but with a protagonist more acceptable to contemporary audiences. I find it difficult not to think that "bad behavior" has been culturally cordoned off as a topic to be explored by some demographics and not others. I don't think it gets us to a particularly creative place, and in fact I think that it makes the whole concept of fiction less legible, uncomfortably tethered to artists' lives and things we can look up about them.
Yeah, I do think there are a lot of unspoken rules around who is allowed to behave badly in fiction and still be considered a sympathetic character, but I also think we have a reduced tolerance for asshole protagonists in general (especially men but women too). Sometimes it's bracing to go back and look at the texts of the sexual revolution and see what those protagonists got away with. I remember watching the movie "Alfie," thinking it was going to be about a charming cad, and actually being shocked by how cruel and callous he is to his girlfriend. Now the landscape has changed — I see people on twitter/wherever making fun of novels about male professors having affairs with their students, but I don't think anyone is really publishing those anymore. And All Fours is so careful to keep its protagonist from doing anything truly bad.
The other big inconsistency I thought was the best friendship - it seemed totally one-sided. I was waiting for a reckoning that never came.
Thanks for giving the context. I haven’t read Run Rabbit, but the lineage you outline makes a lot of sense.
I like your pairing with Updike. He has been on my mind for a while. I wondered if his writing "mattered" or whether it was just privilege. (By the way...love his short stories.). When I read All Fours, I enjoyed the narrator's voice. But I wonder of Rabbit, Run could get published now. I wonder if the pain that Harry causes (throughout his entire life and death) are too scarring for the modern publisher. Or, is it that we won' let women write novels where they hurt someone and aren't sorry to do it. Do we only publish Morality Plays now? (Taffy, I am looking at you. You too Sally).
My experience with reading Rabbit, Run was to be bowled over by the writing but also thinking at regular intervals: Christ, what an asshole. I don't think it or a similar novel by a man would get published now. Some of the short stories are indeed wonderful! As for morality plays, I really don't like when a novel seems to be delivering Lessons for the reader (in AF I felt this the most in the menopause sections).
Yes. I expected her to shout “Tawanda!!”
Interesting. It's almost refreshing to read an actual book critique. Bravo.
I was disappointed in her last movie, but as a visual artist myself I understand that they can't all be "winners." I still think she's an important artist, (I remember when she was doing zines!) but frankly the premise doesn't do much for me. I think I'll pass on this one...even though I'm intrigued by work that is so polarizing. What a conundrum.
She does have a wry and funny narrative voice that I enjoyed, and some of the sex scenes are fun.
I too read things I don't end up liking. I appreciate you sharing the courage of your convictions. I agree, if you can sum up the book so easily in a short essay because there is no complicated messiness making the characters and the story interesting, that's all we need to read! Not that I could do as well as even the worst novelist!
It's generated so much Discourse that probably a lot of people can feel like they've read it without having to actually acquire a copy! And here I am, contributing to this.
This reminds me of how conflicted I am.
A long time ago, I read a Mailer novel. I've forgotten which one. It was full of sex and transgression. I was his target audience, and I loved it. Really, the book was terrible. There is no doubt that it doesn't hold up. It's sort of an embarrassment both to me now and to the author then, how capturing a moment or a type of character may not lead to a lasting work.
If I read All Fours, I'd probably like it too. That doesn't mean I'd think it was good either. Which begs: good in what way? I mean good in the sense of pointing out the foibles of ourselves and the lasting conundrum of the human condition and doing it well.
The fact that I can, and in general we can read something, enjoy it, and simultaneously recognize it as only good for that, is very much part of what makes something good, even when it's bad!
Then again, Updike and Mailer did have a sort of rivalry going if I recall correctly, and just because - I'm not going to search to see if I made that up!
What’s with the classism ? The narrators young paramour is a struggling dancer who goes on to achieve success in the arts . There is no young pop princess , the singer in the story is close to the narrators age and is also a mother . Updike is a truly entitled pig who used to hassle the waitresses at the restaurant I worked at post college . I had to throw him out once when he took it upon himself to open up a closed section , so he wouldn’t have to wait for a table . Comparing a misogynist who practiced the concepts that he preached in his work to a radical feminist is a stretch . This is a book about peri menopause
The pop princess I was referring to is not the megastar Arkanda but Caro, Harris's music protégée, who is described as twenty-seven years old (and who the narrator definitely feels sexually threatened by). And I don't think it's irrelevant or classist to point out that the protagonist's lover comes from a different sphere. This is part of what makes their connection surprising — the narrator herself dwells repeatedly on how he works at Hertz, how unusual it is for her to have a fling with a car rental guy. And she definitely feels proud of being able to use her financial advantage to help him out. Updike and July certainly have different politics, especially gender politics, but that doesn't mean their novels have nothing in common thematically, as I illustrate in the piece. FWIW I don't find anything particularly radical about the politics in this novel.