Molloy

Samuel Beckett was my favorite author in high school (shortly before Nabokov became my favorite author in college).  With his spare voice and his infectious literary constructs, Beckett dared to raise the edge of the heavy stone called 'world war'.  Staring straight into the underbelly of the rock -- the alienation, the worms, the pain and uncertainty -- Beckett exposed glimpses of redeeming light.

Winner of the Nobel Prize for Literature in 1969, Samuel Beckett was best known for his plays:  Waiting for Godot, Krapp's Last Tape, Endgame, and others.  Beckett's novels, however, figured prominently in his route to the Nobel, including the strange tale of Molloy.  A crippled man who makes his way around an unnamed countryside on a dilapidated bicycle, Molloy natters and rambles without making a great deal of sense.  Molloy's primary concerns are his mother -- the destination of all his wanderings -- and his determination to connect with his reader through his "pages" (presumably, the novel we are reading).

Midway through the novel, the befuddled Molloy disappears, and we are introduced to a detective, Malone, whose mission is to capture Molloy and somehow bring Molloy to justice.  As he searches for Molloy, Malone begins to acquire some of Molloy's traits:  lameness, a failed sense of purpose, a broken bicycle...

Molloy is oddly funny, other-worldly, fatalistic, ironic, and, above all, eloquent.

Pale Fire

A murder mystery, a rampaging satire of campus life in America, a topsy-turvy commentary by a deranged  literary critic, a geopolitical puzzle, a clever & poignant poem: Vladimir Nabokov’s Pale Fire is a masterpiece of post-modernism:  a virtuoso performance in elegant prose, verse, and ideas.  This is easily one of the finest novels of the 20^th century – see anyone’s “Best of” list.  Why?  In a nutshell, it's emotionally ingenious and artistically exuberant.  If you’ve begun to visit college campuses -- or certainly, once you get there to stay -- you might easily begin to imagine Nabokov’s madcap adventures in academia.

Home

In a pleasing return to the succinct statements of her early books such as Sula and The Bluest Eye, Toni Morrison's latest novel conjoins three literary traditions -- melodrama, Bildungsroman, and the Picaresque.

A rescue mission fuels the melodrama.  In his quest to save his sister, penniless Korean War veteran Frank Money contends with mainstream American racism and his private demons -- haunting memories of war-time violence -- as he travels from Washington state to Georgia to deliver sister Cee from the hands of a menacing villain.

The coming of age story (Bildungsroman) unfolds as Frank struggles to find himself, freeing his conscience from the torments of war.  To clear his mind for a rescue back in Georgia, Frank must conduct a hasty, self-styled recovery from PTSD, a mission at which he gradually succeeds thanks to the magnanimous spirits and deeds of African American allies he meets along the way.

The Picaresque aspects of Frank's coast-to-coast odyssey -- he is broke most of the time, beholden to the kindness of strangers -- are cross-stitched against Cee's unwitting descent into an unlikely chamber of hell.  The counterpoint between Frank's travels and Cee's domestic agony lends old-fashioned suspense and pleasure -- Will Frank make it home in time??

Home is an enjoyable, unpredictable, yet conventional adventure novel -- all the more surprising given Toni Morrison's international reputation as a literary maverick.  Home offers memorable lessons about war, race in America, heroism and its opposites:  cruelty and cowardice.  Ms. Morrison fleshes out the action in her ever-sturdy, ominous and prophetic voice.  The novel goes down quickly and promises additional pleasure in rereading.