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With the intelligence, subtlety and remarkable characterisation associated with Atwood's writing (from her first novel, The Edible Woman through to the best-selling Alias Grace), these two stories play with one another--sustaining an uncertainty about who has done what to whom and why to the very end of this compelling book. --Vicky Lebeau This review refers to the hardcover edition of this title. -- Dieser Text bezieht sich auf eine vergriffene oder nicht verfügbare Ausgabe dieses Titels.
What had she been thinking of as the car sailed off the bridge, then hung suspended in the afternoon sunlight, glinting like a dragonfly, for that one instant of held breath before the plummet? Of Alex, of Richard, of bad faith, of our father and his wreckage; of God, perhaps, and her fatal, triangular bargain.Meanwhile, Atwood immediately launches into an excerpt from Laura Chase's novel, The Blind Assassin, posthumously published in 1947. In this double-decker concoction, a wealthy woman dabbles in blue-collar passion, even as her lover regales her with a series of science-fictional parables. Complicated? You bet. But the author puts all this variegation to good use, taking expert measure of our capacity for self-delusion and complicity, not to mention desolation. Almost everybody in her sprawling narrative manages to--or prefers to--overlook what's in plain sight. And memory isn't much of a salve either, as Iris points out: "Nothing is more difficult than to understand the dead, I've found; but nothing is more dangerous than to ignore them." Yet Atwood never succumbs to postmodern cynicism, or modish contempt for her characters. On the contrary, she's capable of great tenderness, and as we immerse ourselves in Iris's spliced-in memoir, it's clear that this buttoned-up socialite has been anything but blind to the chaos surrounding her. --Darya Silver -- Dieser Text bezieht sich auf eine vergriffene oder nicht verfügbare Ausgabe dieses Titels.
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Margaret Atwood's Booker prize-winning novel is long and difficult to digest, a veritable seven-course meal. It's taken me a long time of reading and rereading to get my angle upon it. From the start, everything seems relatively straightforward. You know what happens to whom, and where and when they died. The rest of the novel explores have they got there. However, what's most interesting about this narrative is that it does stray from the path, and ventures into the Wild Woods. When Atwood won the Booker, she poignantly praised the work of Angela Carter, which resounds in a small paragraph in the novel: "All stories are about wolves". The Blind Assassin is very much a work of magic realism. You need to have some background reading, starting off with Dante's Inferno, especially Canto XIII. The Wood of the Suicides features the Harpies, and I believe these are symbolic of Laura's supposed 'hysteria'. Harpies are also known as 'The Robbers', and Laura is a notorious klepto. Iris (the name of our narrator) was also sister to the Harpies in myth. The two young heroes in the pulp novel have to enter a wood that supposedly has terrifying dead women in it. Laura is symbolised by the suicide of Dido from the Aeneid. There's also the glorious Book of Daniel, which recounts how Babylon fell overnight (which resounds in the pulp novel too, including the victorious Assyrians' Code of Hammurabi). Allied to this is the Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam, translated by Edward Fitzgerald: "The Moving Finger writes" quote is a direct link to the Book of Daniel and the Fall of Babylon. Add to these ingredients a generous helping of the Pre-Raphaelites and Alfred Lord Tennyson, and you've got the kind of novel that I love.
No doubt this will sound pretty daunting for your average reader (I've compiled a page concerning the context of this novel for interested readers). However, I think most people will be able to enjoy this novel without all these references. On the other hand, Margaret Atwood makes a big assumption that lots of people will know what the Depression was like in Canada. Unfortunately, Roosevelt and his New Deal are far more famous internationally than the ruthless 'Iron Heel' of Canadian Prime Minister Richard Bennett. Canada had a devastating Depression in the "Hungry Thirties", which was only fuelled by Bennett's policy of setting up forced work camps. This suffering made more people rally to the Communist Party of Canada under the leadership of Tim Buck, and led to organised protests, such as the Ottawa Trek. This was also the time of the 'Red Scare', the violent repression of 'pinkos' in North America. It's worthwhile looking up the trial of Sacco and Vanzetti, and the deportation of Emma Goldman in order to really appreciate Alex's flight. Alex symbolises the many Canadian Communists who fought in the Spanish Civil War. However, Iris and Laura are cocooned in Avilion, and you don't really get to see anyone starving in The Blind Assassin to get any sense of this context, so probably Alex's cause is lost on a lot of readers.
The only fault of the novel is openly acknowledged within Laura's narration: "I've failed to convey Richard, in any rounded sense. He remains a cardboard cutout." Due to the plot of the novel, Richard's most significant actions are always clandestine, off-camera. The only factual error I can find in the novel also revolves around him: "He was a frequent participant in the Pugwash conferences," we're told in his obituary at the beginning of the novel. Yet Richard died in 1947, and the Pugwash Conferences started in 1957 - the only way that Richard could have attended would have been as a manifestation of Banquo. Since the Pugwash Conferences were devised to bring around world peace, Richard (who's profited so much from his pugilistic attitude and the Second World War) seems a most unlikely candidate for membership. Margaret Atwood can't have too much of a liking for the legendary King Arthur on this evidence, but it's poetic justice that Richard's Excalibur is thrown away, never again to see the light of day.
All in all, this is a very enjoyable novel, and Atwood deserves the Booker prize (even if I think Matthew Kneale's English Passengers is slightly better). John Buchan, author of The Thirty-nine Steps, makes a cameo appearance towards the end in his more formal role as Lord Tweedsmuir, Governor General of Canada at the start of the fall of the British Empire. The narrative also concerns the Fall of the House of Chase. Norval Chase commits an unforgivable act of patriarchy when he sees the writing on the wall, and submits his daughter to the veil. Just like Belshazzar, he cannot avoid his fate, especially when faced with the mercurial Richard Griffen as adversary. Laura finally finds her voice after years of numbness, but at what price? The house of the Patriarch is falling (which is only just), but Margaret Atwood is courageous enough to question what has taken its place.
The Blind Assassin ist eine dunkle Familiengeschichte, die zwar in den ersten 100 Seiten zäh vorankommt, sich danach aber so facettenreich entfaltet, dass ich dieses Buch kaum mehr weglegen konnte.
Zuerst fiel mir die Verstrickung von beinahe 4!, zunächst unzusammenhängenden, parallelen Erzählsträngen schwer, doch nachdem ich erkannte, dass sie alle ineinander verwickelt sind und im Prinzip als Hintergrund die selbe Story (nämlich die Familientragödie der Haupterzählerin Iris) gemeinsam haben, war ich von dieser Erzähltechnik begeistert. Ausserdem steigern sich alle 4 Stränge parallel in der Spannung, was die Nächte länger werden liess :-).
Interessant fand ich auch die Zeitungsartikeln, die von Margaret Atwood elegant eingebracht werden. Sie verraten immer schon im voraus, was passiert. Nach und nach findet man dann heraus, warum es zu diesen Ereignissen gekommen ist.
Gefallen hat mir übrigens auch die kühle, pragmatische Erzählart von Iris, der Haupterzählerin, die sich im understatement übt, obwohl alles rund um sie zusammenbricht. Am Anfang traut man Iris deshalb auch nicht tiefergehende Gefühle zu, doch - Stille Wasser sind tief - sie ist von Schuldgefühlen geplagt und es steckt weit mehr hinter ihrem Charakter als man ursprünglich annehmen könnte. Trotz aller Tragik wird nie auf die Tränendrüse gedrückt, denn Iris behält ihren kühlen Erzählstil bis zum Schluss bei.
Margaret Atwood hat die Macht, wunderschöne Sätze zu konstruieren, die ich einfach aus Genuss nochmals gelesen habe. Abschliessend kann ich nur noch sagen, dass ich bereits "The Robber Bride", "A Handmaid's Tale" und "The Edible Woman" verschlungen habe, und dass jetzt "Alias Grace" dran ist. Ach ja, noch was: Margaret hat sich den Booker Prize wirklich verdient!
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