A God in Ruins by Kate Atkinson
My rating: 4/5 cats
man, this book. chills, i tell you, everywhere chills. this is a companion book to Life After Life, and technically, it is “teddy’s story.” teddy, you will recall from life, is ursula’s little brother. if you have not read Life After Life – what the crap is wrong with you?? go!! read!! meet us back here when you’re done!
i say “technically,” because although teddy is definitely the center of this book, we are still treated to the stories and perspectives of some of our other friends from life, as well as some new additions: sylvie, izzie, nancy, hugh, sunny, viola, bertie. and just a dash of ursula. who does not spend this book dying on every other page, lucky girl.
the two things about life that resonated with me long after i closed the book had nothing to do with its structural playfulness, which seems to be “the thing” about the book that most people wanna talk about. and it should be talked about because it was risky and well-handled. but for me, that was more or less cosmetic. the things that shattered me were her writing about war and her glorification of english stoicism. and while this book doesn’t have the same structure as life, it most definitely has these two focal points.
and they are just as good here as they were in life. i’m not big into wartime narratives, but atkinson has a gift. she takes the english experience during world war two and just dissects the crap out of it. whether it be in long chapters about teddy’s experiences as a fighter pilot (sometimes TOO long, which is my sole complaint about this book, but that complaint is tied to my own tastes which balked at the very detailed descriptions of planes which are no doubt fascinating to people with an interest in military history), or in smaller stories about the way the war changed people – their sexual permissiveness, social restructuring, and – my second ♥ – that stiff upper lip.
if you’re reading this review, you probably know me, and know my tastes. and a lot of what i enjoy, from steinbeck to hardy to grit lit are stories of endurance and adaptability in unforgiving circumstances. the triumph of the human spirit and man’s struggle against forces of nature and hardship &yadda. and this entire book is resting on the sturdy foundation of stoic forbearance. on doing what needs to be done. on making do and not making a fuss.
a perfect example of this:
It was when she had come down from the walls at Monkgate Bar and was waiting to cross the road at the traffic lights that a black curtain suddenly descended and covered her left eye…If she had gone completely blind she would have called for help, but the loss of only one eye didn’t seem cause enough to involve complete strangers.
i mean, COME ON! that is stellar.
and also:
… instead he had stayed and plodded on, because something told him that this was the life that had to be lived out…He preferred solitary pursuits, and being a member of a group seemed rather dutiful, but he could do dutiful and somebody had to or the world would fall apart.
and the book is just FILLED with that, same as in life. and it is also filled with stories, stories, stories, each one a soulhurting gem. three words: do.mi.nic.
i said that the book wasn’t as structurally playful as life, but it does do a couple of things. we bounce around back and forth in time and voice: prewar, wartime, postwar, post-post war, with an overarching omniscient narrator casually inserting facts and fates that will happen in the future, which may or may not be fleshed out in later chapters. details will occur, and then recur in a different context, with different import. we will revisit meaningful objects through the eyes of several characters, who may not know what they are looking at. oh, and there’s this one other thing. about which you will hear nothing from me. except that it’s more reader-jarring than anything that happens in life.
don’t read too many reviews of this book. i have been careful, but others may not be. go in cold and prepare to be blown away again by this woman’s phenomenal storytelling abilities and her ability to write characters for whom you will care very deeply. and fear for, because we are at war, and you can be killed while sunbathing on a roof.
please, more, ms. atkinson!! jimmy!! izzie! maurice!! anyone!
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this is only a four-star cat from me because it is not quite as good as Life After Life, which is like saying camembert is not quite as good as brie. it’s practically a meaningless distinction, as i would eat either of those anytime, anywhere. for all intents and purposes, this is a five-star cat book.
