Revolutionary Road by Richard Yates
My rating: 4/5 cats
watching this movie last night made me want to reread the book immediately after. it’s not a terrible movie, it’s just a little… hammy, and the tone is uneven – whether these people are meant to be seen as victims of the stultifying, euthanizing effects of suburbia, or if they are at root unlikable people who deserve to be taken down a peg for their arrogance and their conviction that their involvement in this thing we call “suburbia” is just playacting, not to be taken seriously. the book doesn’t waver, not to me. i always read it as a story of awful people poisoning each other and blaming their wasted lives on each other instead of taking responsibility for their own shortcomings, which, being a generally unsympathetic person, i can applaud. and his writing – absolutely wonderful.
the real character in this novel of course, is suburbia. soul-sucking, dream-gutting suburbia that neutralizes all its inhabitants and blandifies the pointy, interesting bits. this isn’t the lynchian or music for torching view of the suburbs/small-town charm, where the beneficence of suburbia is compromised by its seedy undertones. suburbia, here, is the aggressor, slowly draining its characters of any charms and releasing them back into their after-dinner drinks and their morning commute to the office. and woe if you think you are somehow special or “above it all,” particularly if, like the wheelers, your aspirations outweigh your capabilities and your “specialness” is only ego. i grew up in a version of suburbia, and while it wasn’t in the same time period, and it wasn’t as bad as all this, the writing struck a chord in me and it’s good that i am away. suburbia is a bitch, but at least they’ll always have paris…
oh, wait.
