‘Real’ books have gruesome scenes of food poisoning
Kat Lerue - March 12th, 2008Fact: Canadians are awesome. Over the years, our generous brethren of the North have let us in on some extremely talented artists.
Before Canadians endowed us with the Arcade Fire, but around the time they blessed us with Leonard Cohen, they allowed us the privilege of the indelible Margaret Atwood. Atwood is one of modern literature’s most respected authors, and probably my favorite writer of, oh, all time. One of her most recent additions to her extensive body of work is The Tent, a delectable collage of lyricism and satire.
The material that makes up The Tent — flash fiction and a few poems — possesses the backwards emotions of fairytales. Chicken Little gets bumped off by the Mob; humans are hunted and eaten in “Our Cat Enters Heaven”; a log, once king of his swamp, is exiled.
Atwood strips down mankind, its history, its politics, its romances and its violence, and readers are left with a series of witty fables.
Peppered throughout the book, in simple black and white, looking a bit like Egyptian hieroglyphics, are Atwood’s own illustrations. They, like the writing in The Tent, are both innocent and sinister. Atwood is, as always, a master of taut social commentary. Her clever critiques are tart, tender and well-crafted.
The language in The Tent is both visceral and mythic. Atwood has created a world of metaphor that will either stab you in the gut or kiss you on the cheek. Most of these stories felt like indulgent warnings from a wise and hopeful cynic.
You’ll love this book if you like sounding cranky and smart, or if you grew up reading. If you’re familiar with Margaret Atwood’s other work, especially her esoteric poetry, you’ll adore this book. This book is also a lot a blast if you’re world-weary, or a fan of reinterpreted fairy tales. It’s a quick, addictive read. I almost want to move to Canada just be closer to one of literature’s modern masters.
Margaret Atwood is well-known for her own feminist reputation. With that in mind, might I suggest a few more books by woman authors:
Matteo Musumeci, a freshman modern language and education major, recommends The Song of the Lark by Willa Cather, which was first published in 1915. The novel follows a young woman pursuing her dream of becoming an opera star. Musumeci told me it was a novel about American female identity and an individual’s potential.
Jill Langen, a junior majoring in both English and French, just finished The Bell Jar, by Sylvia Plath. The Bell Jar, published more than 40 years ago, is a semi-autobiographical novel chronicling a female college student’s trials with mental illness. Langen told me that part of what makes the book so compelling was Plath’s protagonist, who contradicts the idea of a vapid housewives in 1950’s America. Also notable about The Bell Jar is a particularly gruesome scene of food poisoning.
Quite literally on the non-fiction “front,” Aaron Dunn, a junior history major, recommends On Killing: The Psychological Cost of Learning to Kill in War and Society by Lt. Col. Dave Grossman. On Killing explores what it is like for a solider learning to kill in combat. Dunn told me it was an easy read he would recommend to anyone.
Sylvia Plath and war got you down?
Elyse Davidson, a junior psychology major, wants you to laugh. She just read Me Talk Pretty One Day by David Sedaris. Me Talk Pretty One Day is one of Sedaris’ many collections of humorous essays. Davidson told me Sedaris, whose work often chronicles his eccentric and hilarious family, makes his own singular experiences uproarious and relatable.
Canadians, moody poets, soldiers and hilarity.
Hopefully I’ve convinced you to close your textbooks and read a real book.