Quick Review:
Oryx and Crake by Margaret Atwood
Published 2003
Genre: Science Fiction\Post Apocalyptic Fiction
Bob's Thoughts: A unique and off beat tale of the last human left on earth, and how he got there.
Available at Your Local Booksellers
Bob's Grade: A-
Full Review:
Sometimes a books surprises you.
I don’t mean this in a twist, surprise ending Roger Ackroydian way or even in a judgemental, be it positive or negative, sort of way. Sometimes you just come to expect certain things from a book, or books in general, and every once and a while you are thrown for a loop. Sometimes genres are bended, and characters act or just are not what you expect or even imagine. Sometimes, a book is just different and smacks your preconceived notions in the face.
Oryx and Crake is one of these books. First off, when picked up this book, I really didn’t expect to like it, for a lot of reasons. The reason I bough it is that it was on a Post Apocalyptic book list I have been working my way through, slowly but surely, with plenty breaks in between. Yet, I was trepidations. I have read her book, A Handmaid’s Tale, and didn’t really enjoy it. She is a very literary writer, which often means witty, verbose, well written and boring. I am not scared to admit that I tend to avoid that which is labeled literature, unless coerced, instead finding myself immersed in the pulp and popular fiction of the day. I also, with a few exceptions, tend to avoid books by women authors. When I read a women’s name on the title, I expect a book oriented towards women. Yes, this is probably not something I should admit, but even within the genre’s I enjoy, women authors tend to lose my interest.
Now, admitting I am a misogynistic literary snob, let’s move on to the book. Oryx and Crake is a tale of the last man on earth, Snowman. Snowman hasn’t always been called Snowman, before he was Jimmy, but in a new world, I guess people need a new name. Snowman basically sits around in his tree all day, drinking his last drops of pilfered liquor, attempting to keep the sheet he wears as his only clothes clean, and watching over a group of genetically altered childlike survivors, who are more or perhaps less than human, depending on you perspective. While in his tree, and later on his trip to an old compound for supplies, Snowman relives and reminisces on his life when he was Jimmy.
The world of his youth was a glimpse on the possible road we may be heading down. Raised in a protected community among scientists, like his father, Jimmy’s world is full of genetically engineered animals recombinants , like Pigoons and Wolvogs, animals combined to add to the betterment of human existence. Jimmy is immune to the real world, refered to as pleeblands. In that world, society has broken down and poverty and dystopia reigns. We follow Jimmy’s life, as he grows older, and becomes friends with the man that is to become known as Crake, a genius who may or may not be mad.
There are so many reasons Oryx and Crake just shouldn’t work. The story seems almost uneven, jumping around through the time line of events, almost willy nilly. Beyond the character of Jimmy/Snowman, the other players are underdeveloped and underused, and often quite unbelievable. The story at points goes off on seemingly unnecessary paths, that slow the story down and the ending is, at best, ambiguous. Yet, all these issues some together in just the right way to make the story work. At times, the story becomes confusing, and you’re not quite sure why the author is giving you a glimpse of this or that, but by the end, the come together like a impressionist painting, and you wouldn’t want to lose a single bit.
As a post apocalyptic tale, this book fits neatly into the genre more so along the lines of classic tales like A Brave New World and 1984, yet other sections recalls parts of Earth Abides, and Vonnegut’s, Galapagos. A time it is an absurdist comedy, at other times, a dark harbinger of science and it’s ultimate potential if it loses control, and a reminder that it most probably will. Atwood handles the issues well, yet with enough intriguing diversions, and cartoonish handlings to not leave you overly paranoid of using the latest wonder drug.
3 comments:
I read Alias Grace by Atwood and it was mesmerizing! Really sad though. I kind of shy away from the really sad ones and this one sounds pretty sad too.
Except for the sexism, your on-it's-head literary elitism is kind of cool. I took a lot of lit classes in school and the first day of class the profs liked to have us fill out a little questionaire about our favorite books. Lit professors are notorious snobs, so it would have been smart to write down something I read in school, but I always put The Mirror of Her Dreams by Donaldson. It was embarrasing because the title makes it sound like a romance novel, but I couldn't very well lie about it.
But that brings me to the sexism thing...if I can love a book in which the leading female is chauvenist's fantasy girl (and don't get me started on Morn!) then you can stomach a little female perspective, right?
Time Traveler's Wife by Audrey Niffenger is another one of these sci-fi/fantasy novels marketed as "Literature." (I blame Oprah for all this, by the way. Why can't a great book just be a great book? Why does it have to have an oversized jacket, ambiguous cover and book club seal?) I can't imagine anyone not loving this book, male or female.
In your defense, there just aren't a lot of great women sci-fi writers. And the ones that are good tend to be so aware of their minority status that their books become feminist manifestos (Tepper.) Can't blame anyone for avoiding that! But the mystery genre has some awesome women writers. Dorothy Sayers is a lot of fun.
I should probably get back to work...about Oryx and Crake - is it ruin-your-week sad, or just "sigh" sad?
You know, I am uncomfortable with the label sexism, because it is often misapplied, but this time I will accept it. I don’t believe it’s sexist to not enjoy books by female authors per se, but having the knee jerk reaction that I often have probably is equivalent to literary sexism.
I don’t mind the female perspective. I do read books by female authors, many of them with the a female as the lead perspective character. One of my favorite all-time books is A Gift Upon the Shore by M. K. Wren. I also regularly read books by Susan Sloan and Rebecca Forster. A good book transcends it’s author, on that I will agree. Yet, much of the more popular books written by female authors cater to a female audience. I have tried to read books by Janet Evanovich and Lisa Scottoline, and I found myself not enjoying or bonding the characters. For me, at least, reading a book is an intimate experience, and if I find myself around characters I just can’t understand, I don’t want to share that experience.
I often rationalize my bias the same why I excuse my tentative nature in dealing with hard science fiction and fantasy. I don’t typically enjoy far future or alien only science fiction, nor do I like fantasy that has no links to our reality. I need characters I can understand their background and thinking on some level. Take a earth/human character, and place them in a fantasic setting, that I can deal with, but The Land without Covenant, I would avoid. With some female writers, I find characters acting in a way I just can’t understand, or just isn’t explained. This happens with male writers too, but maybe since there are so many more male writers than female I can avoid it more easily.
I don’t have to like a character to understand them, either. Both Covenant and Terisa were both unlikable characters, and in a way they were mirror images of each other. Covenant thought he was the only real thing in a world of his imagination, Terisa believed she wasn’t real, but a product of the land she now lives in. Yet, both of them used these beliefs to excuse their actions. This I can understand, whether male or female. These are characters I can understand, whether I like them or not.
To say I absolutely avoid female authors is untrue and I probably phrased that wrong in my review, although I do take a more tentative approach to them, based on my experience. I am always looking for good books, no matter what the sex of the author is.
With your question on Oryx and Crake, I’m not sure if sad would be the correct term. Sad, in the idea that I expected more from characters that I enjoyed. Even when you know that their actions are going to be destructive, you still cheer for their potential of constructive action. It is sad, in a disappointing sort of way.
eh, don't take me too seriously. It's art, afterall, there's no equal oppurutunity quota.
Loved the comparison between Terisa and Covenant, never thought about that before.
For me, at least, reading a book is an intimate experience, and if I find myself around characters I just can’t understand, I don’t want to share that experience.
Amen! Thoreau said something about how even the most astounding phenomenon in nature was only interesting to him inasmuch as it related to human experience. I'm sure I'm mangling the quote, but I love the sentiment. I think relevance should be a high priority of any artist.
My question about Oryx and Crake was vague. I guess different things make different people sad. I don't mind when bad things happen to people in books. That's life. What depresses me is when human efforts are portrayed as futile, or human characters as impotent.
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