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For me, the dangerous time is always
Sep. 21st, 2006 04:51 pmI finished Julian Barnes's Talking It Over yesterday. The book is told from the perspectives of three first-person narrators: Stuart, who is pedantic and slightly nerdy; the reserved, conflicted, and lovely Gillian; and Oliver, a flamboyant show-off in love with his own cleverness. Stuart marries Gillian, Oliver is their best friend who tags along with them all the time, and I'll let you guess what happens next.
The plot is conventional, the characters never quite escape their stereotypical roles, yet somehow the book succeeds. Don't get me wrong; it's not a masterpiece or Great Literature, but it's an engaging read nonetheless. Barnes does a good job of playing his three narrators against each other, and despite the fact that they never quite rise above their types, he eventually manages to show us the humanity that lies beneath the type. There are some nice lines and a few very well-written scenes. I like the way Barnes captures the feeling that exists between Gillian and Oliver as they sit in her attic studio day after day, and I love the moment when Gillian sees the secret flower petal on the shelf and swallows it--such a wonderful way of letting us know that she's crossed a line within herself, before she even knows it.
I liked the middle of the book better than the ending--I guess I prefer the tension to what happens after the tension is resolved. Plus, I had fun arguing with myself over which of the characters I identified with most, and by the end their story had gone off in its own direction and I didn't identify much with any of them. The ending is a bit of a cliffhanger, and I've just learned that there's a sequel to it called Love, Etc. that picks up ten years after Talking It Over leaves off. That may be worth reading one of these days.
And now I'm at a bit of a loose end as to what to read next. My book club's next selection is The World According to Garp, so I suppose I could try that next, but the next meeting's not till mid-October so there's no rush. I've got a few interesting things lying around at home, such as The Remains of the Day, and a book of Annie Proulx short stories, and Angle of Repose, and some other stuff that I can't think of right now. Or else I could do some of the secrets-n-repression reading that's supposed to help me with my book. That might be a good idea, since it is time for me to start thinking about the old book again...
The plot is conventional, the characters never quite escape their stereotypical roles, yet somehow the book succeeds. Don't get me wrong; it's not a masterpiece or Great Literature, but it's an engaging read nonetheless. Barnes does a good job of playing his three narrators against each other, and despite the fact that they never quite rise above their types, he eventually manages to show us the humanity that lies beneath the type. There are some nice lines and a few very well-written scenes. I like the way Barnes captures the feeling that exists between Gillian and Oliver as they sit in her attic studio day after day, and I love the moment when Gillian sees the secret flower petal on the shelf and swallows it--such a wonderful way of letting us know that she's crossed a line within herself, before she even knows it.
I liked the middle of the book better than the ending--I guess I prefer the tension to what happens after the tension is resolved. Plus, I had fun arguing with myself over which of the characters I identified with most, and by the end their story had gone off in its own direction and I didn't identify much with any of them. The ending is a bit of a cliffhanger, and I've just learned that there's a sequel to it called Love, Etc. that picks up ten years after Talking It Over leaves off. That may be worth reading one of these days.
And now I'm at a bit of a loose end as to what to read next. My book club's next selection is The World According to Garp, so I suppose I could try that next, but the next meeting's not till mid-October so there's no rush. I've got a few interesting things lying around at home, such as The Remains of the Day, and a book of Annie Proulx short stories, and Angle of Repose, and some other stuff that I can't think of right now. Or else I could do some of the secrets-n-repression reading that's supposed to help me with my book. That might be a good idea, since it is time for me to start thinking about the old book again...
