Richard Powers (2009) Generosity: An Enhancement
I always wonder when I find myself enjoying a bookdevouring it with gusto, putting tasks on hold in favor of reading what happens nextwhether my enjoyment is idiosyncratic or universal; whether if I recommend the book to friends they will experience the same pleasure or wonder what ever was it that made me think the thing was worth spending time on.I wonder this particularly when I recognize particular narrative devices or subjects that I know I am a pushover for.
So it is with Generosity.Ever since the protagonist of Miguel de Unamunos (1914) book Niebla went to visit the author himself and complain about the way his life was being written, I have been a sucker for narratives in which the author brings himself into the story itself, which creates at the same time a sense of intimacy (You are right here while I write, I want to share the experience with you) and distance (These arent real people, Im just making them up as I go along, you know) while actually moving the story along.
Although Generosity has long sections of familiar omniscient third-person narration, the author at times takes us behind the writing and shares some of his compositional musings. Here are the first three paragraphs of the book (somewhat compressed) to give the flavor:
A man rides backward in a packed subway car….I picture him … tunneling beneath … the worlds twenty-fifth largest city….
Hes just thirty-two….I cant see him well,… but thats my fault, not his.
Look again: … The blank page is patient, and meaning can wait.I watch until he solidifies.
Several reviewers have complained that such interventions by the author character are distracting and/or Just Too Cute. I find it fun.Bottom line: this is not a book for those who like to suspend their disbelief at page one and leave it suspended all the way to the end.
I also like stories that tackle big life issues.What is happiness?How does one obtain it? These questions are at the center of Generosity.The author shows (through the characters and their situations) and tells (through the characters internal and external musings).There are as many points of view as there are major characters, plus a few more brought in by minor characters.Sometimes, the treatment totters on heavy-handed, but for the most part manages to avoid unintentional parody.Intentional parody there is (notably, a thinly-veiled simulacrum of the Oprah Winfrey TV show), and reasonably deftly handled with a light seasoning of satire, but I did not feel it got out of hand.The author has a good ear.
The key character in the book is a young, Berber woman named Thassadit Amzwar (Thassa) born and raised during the Algerian civil war, the Time of Horrors, who would seem to be the perfect candidate for post-traumatic stress syndrome, serious depression and unhappiness, but who is invariably up-beat and enthusiastic.She takeseverything life has thrown at her in stride and brings a wry, but genuine, happiness to everyone she touches.One would think this is a tough character to make believable, but by golly Powers succeeds.Yes, a willing suspension of disbelief is needed, but that only to accept that the impact of her charm on the other characters is as thoroughgoing as the author tells us it is.She is rather delightful.
The book is about Thassa, although you wouldnt call her the protagonist.Shes actually a sort of fifth business, the catalyst that makes everything else of importance happen around her.Thassa is discovered to be genetically hyperthymic, a term that etymologically at least, means something like too happy, and as used here preternaturally happy or unnaturally happy.Note the ambiguity.If her happiness is real, maybe its genetic.That would be a Major Scientific Discovery and then maybe (big leap) people could be bred or genetically modified to be happy.Another possibilitythat she has discovered the bluebird of happiness, or somehow discovered its philosophical equivalentis not seriously explored.This is a novel of biological determinism as far as happiness is concerned.Thassa becomes an overnight sensation.If her happiness is not real and shes just neurotically well-defended against negative feelings, then she is in for some totally misguided attention from people who (desperately want to) believe it is real.
Two other major characters show up: Tonia Schiff, a television personality who has made a name for herself doing popularized science documentaries, and Thomas Kurton, a high-profile, gung-ho, genetic biologist who believes (and wants YOU to believe) the destiny of the human race is to create itself in the future through designer genetic manipulations.After all, who would choose not to have smarter, better-looking, happier offspring?Who, indeed?
What is happiness?The author, to his credit, leaves the issue unresolved.In the end, happiness (unless you believe the Thomas Kurton scientist character that its all in the genes) remains comfortingly elusive.The book offers a thought-provoking exploration, but as with pornography, one cant define happiness, but one can reliably recognize it.Ultimately, as human potential guru Stewart Emory is fond of saying, Its all in how you hold it.You, and not your genes, are determinative.
Some complaints about the characters, though.Russell Stone, the protagonist (most of the time, anyway) is a rather depressing figure.He spends most of the book in a marginally sub-clinical depression and is single-mindedly negative about himself in a way that puts Woody Allens stock depressives to shame.I understand that this is a book about happiness or the absence thereof, but Russell seems to be a bit of overkill.The bizarre back-story the author invents to account for Russells state of mindRussell wrote some semi-documentary pieces about some down-and-out people he met and he was subsequently hounded and even threatened by friends and relatives of his subjects who objected to his violation of the subjects privacy and his distortions of some of the attendant factsis arguably plausible, but seems strained.Whatever.The author has Russell sworn off fact-based reportage and even sworn off putting any of himself in anything he writes.He now edits other peoples submissions to a new-age self-help publication.As the novel opens, Russell has taken a job as the last-minute replacement teacher for a minor colleges Creative Nonfiction documentary writing course.This is a tad ironic given Russells life decision to refrain from such writing.
Russell is, in short, unhappy, and rather determinedly so.It takes him a long time to find the love of a good woman and work his way out of the depressing hole he seems to be hell bent on staying in.
The good woman I just alluded to is Candace Weld, who is a psychotherapist in the colleges student counseling center.(I seem to be reading a lot of books with psychotherapists as characters.I just finished Irvin Yaloms The Schopenhauer Cure and Jonathan Troppers This Is Where I Leave You.Must be some sort of Zeitgeist.)Candace finds herself with problems centering on the rules and regulations governing the behavior of college psychotherapists.Powers conjures up a milieu in which a combination of fear of lawsuits and knee-jerk ethical constraints conspire to make it impossible for a therapist to have friends.Its a problem.What is or should be the role of psychotherapy?How does onehow can onedraw the line between a therapeutic relation and friendship? For a long time psychotherapists got away with a lot of inappropriate behavior towards their clients, justifying it as part of the therapeutic process.Now the pendulum seems to have swung to the opposite extreme: just about nothing is appropriate, regardless of the human issues involved.When Candace tries to do what seems to be the right thing with respect to Thassa and with respect to Russell, no good deed goes unpunished.Go figure.
There are some characters that it takes the author a long time to see into.I know thats perhaps an odd way to put it, but Tonia Shiff, the self-impressed television documentary journalist, and Thomas Kurton, the scientist consumed by dreams of making permanent upgrades to human nature, seem at first to have been picked from the Stock Characters bin and do nothing but Stock Character Things for three quarters or more of the novel.Eventually, however, the author after long acquaintance seems to find some real characters to put behind their stock roles and they become more fully elaborated and at least comprehensible, if still not sympathetic.By that time, I didnt really care.
I enjoyed the good parts of the book so muchthe Russell-Thassa-Candace partsthat it is only now, two weeks after finishing reading, that I realize that there is a lot of it that I read as fast as I could in order to get past it and back to the good stuff.It does feel odd to be recommending a book much of which I found myself fast forwarding through.On reconsideration, then, Generosity is a good book, but not a great book.
This entry was posted on Monday, February 1st, 2010 at 14:45 and is filed under Satire, Social Commentary. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed.
You can skip to the end and leave a response. Pinging is currently not allowed.
Richard Powers (2009) Generosity: An Enhancement
I always wonder when I find myself enjoying a bookdevouring it with gusto, putting tasks on hold in favor of reading what happens nextwhether my enjoyment is idiosyncratic or universal; whether if I recommend the book to friends they will experience the same pleasure or wonder what ever was it that made me think the thing was worth spending time on. I wonder this particularly when I recognize particular narrative devices or subjects that I know I am a pushover for.
So it is with Generosity. Ever since the protagonist of Miguel de Unamunos (1914) book Niebla went to visit the author himself and complain about the way his life was being written, I have been a sucker for narratives in which the author brings himself into the story itself, which creates at the same time a sense of intimacy (You are right here while I write, I want to share the experience with you) and distance (These arent real people, Im just making them up as I go along, you know) while actually moving the story along.
Although Generosity has long sections of familiar omniscient third-person narration, the author at times takes us behind the writing and shares some of his compositional musings. Here are the first three paragraphs of the book (somewhat compressed) to give the flavor:
A man rides backward in a packed subway car…. I picture him … tunneling beneath … the worlds twenty-fifth largest city….
Hes just thirty-two…. I cant see him well, … but thats my fault, not his.
Look again: … The blank page is patient, and meaning can wait. I watch until he solidifies.
Several reviewers have complained that such interventions by the author character are distracting and/or Just Too Cute. I find it fun. Bottom line: this is not a book for those who like to suspend their disbelief at page one and leave it suspended all the way to the end.
I also like stories that tackle big life issues. What is happiness? How does one obtain it? These questions are at the center of Generosity. The author shows (through the characters and their situations) and tells (through the characters internal and external musings). There are as many points of view as there are major characters, plus a few more brought in by minor characters. Sometimes, the treatment totters on heavy-handed, but for the most part manages to avoid unintentional parody. Intentional parody there is (notably, a thinly-veiled simulacrum of the Oprah Winfrey TV show), and reasonably deftly handled with a light seasoning of satire, but I did not feel it got out of hand. The author has a good ear.
The key character in the book is a young, Berber woman named Thassadit Amzwar (Thassa) born and raised during the Algerian civil war, the Time of Horrors, who would seem to be the perfect candidate for post-traumatic stress syndrome, serious depression and unhappiness, but who is invariably up-beat and enthusiastic. She takes everything life has thrown at her in stride and brings a wry, but genuine, happiness to everyone she touches. One would think this is a tough character to make believable, but by golly Powers succeeds. Yes, a willing suspension of disbelief is needed, but that only to accept that the impact of her charm on the other characters is as thoroughgoing as the author tells us it is. She is rather delightful.
The book is about Thassa, although you wouldnt call her the protagonist. Shes actually a sort of fifth business, the catalyst that makes everything else of importance happen around her. Thassa is discovered to be genetically hyperthymic, a term that etymologically at least, means something like too happy, and as used here preternaturally happy or unnaturally happy. Note the ambiguity. If her happiness is real, maybe its genetic. That would be a Major Scientific Discovery and then maybe (big leap) people could be bred or genetically modified to be happy. Another possibilitythat she has discovered the bluebird of happiness, or somehow discovered its philosophical equivalentis not seriously explored. This is a novel of biological determinism as far as happiness is concerned. Thassa becomes an overnight sensation. If her happiness is not real and shes just neurotically well-defended against negative feelings, then she is in for some totally misguided attention from people who (desperately want to) believe it is real.
Two other major characters show up: Tonia Schiff, a television personality who has made a name for herself doing popularized science documentaries, and Thomas Kurton, a high-profile, gung-ho, genetic biologist who believes (and wants YOU to believe) the destiny of the human race is to create itself in the future through designer genetic manipulations. After all, who would choose not to have smarter, better-looking, happier offspring? Who, indeed?
What is happiness? The author, to his credit, leaves the issue unresolved. In the end, happiness (unless you believe the Thomas Kurton scientist character that its all in the genes) remains comfortingly elusive. The book offers a thought-provoking exploration, but as with pornography, one cant define happiness, but one can reliably recognize it. Ultimately, as human potential guru Stewart Emory is fond of saying, Its all in how you hold it. You, and not your genes, are determinative.
Some complaints about the characters, though. Russell Stone, the protagonist (most of the time, anyway) is a rather depressing figure. He spends most of the book in a marginally sub-clinical depression and is single-mindedly negative about himself in a way that puts Woody Allens stock depressives to shame. I understand that this is a book about happiness or the absence thereof, but Russell seems to be a bit of overkill. The bizarre back-story the author invents to account for Russells state of mindRussell wrote some semi-documentary pieces about some down-and-out people he met and he was subsequently hounded and even threatened by friends and relatives of his subjects who objected to his violation of the subjects privacy and his distortions of some of the attendant factsis arguably plausible, but seems strained. Whatever. The author has Russell sworn off fact-based reportage and even sworn off putting any of himself in anything he writes. He now edits other peoples submissions to a new-age self-help publication. As the novel opens, Russell has taken a job as the last-minute replacement teacher for a minor colleges Creative Nonfiction documentary writing course. This is a tad ironic given Russells life decision to refrain from such writing.
Russell is, in short, unhappy, and rather determinedly so. It takes him a long time to find the love of a good woman and work his way out of the depressing hole he seems to be hell bent on staying in.
The good woman I just alluded to is Candace Weld, who is a psychotherapist in the colleges student counseling center. (I seem to be reading a lot of books with psychotherapists as characters. I just finished Irvin Yaloms The Schopenhauer Cure and Jonathan Troppers This Is Where I Leave You. Must be some sort of Zeitgeist.) Candace finds herself with problems centering on the rules and regulations governing the behavior of college psychotherapists. Powers conjures up a milieu in which a combination of fear of lawsuits and knee-jerk ethical constraints conspire to make it impossible for a therapist to have friends. Its a problem. What is or should be the role of psychotherapy? How does onehow can onedraw the line between a therapeutic relation and friendship? For a long time psychotherapists got away with a lot of inappropriate behavior towards their clients, justifying it as part of the therapeutic process. Now the pendulum seems to have swung to the opposite extreme: just about nothing is appropriate, regardless of the human issues involved. When Candace tries to do what seems to be the right thing with respect to Thassa and with respect to Russell, no good deed goes unpunished. Go figure.
There are some characters that it takes the author a long time to see into. I know thats perhaps an odd way to put it, but Tonia Shiff, the self-impressed television documentary journalist, and Thomas Kurton, the scientist consumed by dreams of making permanent upgrades to human nature, seem at first to have been picked from the Stock Characters bin and do nothing but Stock Character Things for three quarters or more of the novel. Eventually, however, the author after long acquaintance seems to find some real characters to put behind their stock roles and they become more fully elaborated and at least comprehensible, if still not sympathetic. By that time, I didnt really care.
I enjoyed the good parts of the book so muchthe Russell-Thassa-Candace partsthat it is only now, two weeks after finishing reading, that I realize that there is a lot of it that I read as fast as I could in order to get past it and back to the good stuff. It does feel odd to be recommending a book much of which I found myself fast forwarding through. On reconsideration, then, Generosity is a good book, but not a great book.
This entry was posted on Monday, February 1st, 2010 at 14:45 and is filed under Satire, Social Commentary. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can skip to the end and leave a response. Pinging is currently not allowed.