Back at long last. I’m sure you missed me, and you can rest assured I wasn’t loafing — I was reading kind of a long book. Middlesex, by Jeffrey Eugenides, bestselling author of The Virgin Suicides, won the Pulitzer Prize.
That much you can learn from the bookcover. You can also learn that the book tells the breathtaking story of Calliope Stephanides, and three generations of the Greek-American Stephanides family, who travel from a tiny village overloo . . . oh, enough with cribbing off the cover; I’ll call it like I see it.
Being the naive young reader that I am, I had never heard of this book before picking it up at the bookstore. This was another one of those “I need a new book, ooh — this one has a cool cover” kind of moments. Of course, after I picked it up, I learned that everyone else in the eighth-grade-and-up educated world had not only heard of it, but had read it. And probably posted on it. Mr. DJ — feel free to link to any previous posts here (I haven’t read any of them, if they exist).
The book is told by Cal(liope) Stephanides, a young Greek-American whose grandparents came to America from Smyrna when the turmoil between the Greeks and the Turks hit their home turf in the 1920’s. While I will confess some confusion on the part of the author (of this post) early on in the book, as far as chronology and the relationships of the characters, this passed quickly. And it didn’t take long to realize what an amazing writer this guy (Eugenides) is. The story begins with the grandparents in Smyrna, when they were young and were victimized not only by the invaders, but also by their own culture. Without revealing too much (although the key points are revealed early in the book), Cal(liope) suffers from a gender/genetic disorder that stems all the way back to the grandparents.
The book is very well-written, and the first two-and-one-half “Books” (of four) are pretty much just a period piece that spans the middle decades of the twentieth century, told from the perspective of Greek immigrants who wind up in Detroit. And I learned a lot about the Detroit race riots and the Greek-American culture. After that, we shift more to Cal(liope)’s true “coming of age”, and how it ties in to Cal(liope)’s family and history. I’m still digesting the last part of the book, but I think I’m pretty satisfied with where things went. I personally felt sort of a sea change in the book about halfway through the third of the four “Books”, and I had to adjust to the shift. It was no longer just a story about a Greek-American family, but was more about Cal(liope)’s self-perception and relationship to those that Cal(liope) was around.
As you can see (and those of you who’ve read the book are probably annoyed at this point), I’ve tried not to give away too much of the plot. And I guess I wouldn’t do that if I didn’t want people to read the book. I haven’t read too many Pulitzer Prize winners, and often when I do, I’m left puzzled as to what the criteria must be for the award. Here, I think it’s pretty clear that the criteria must be (i) an incredible gift for prose (although in this case, unlike in Michael Chabon’s case, the prose is comprehensible), (ii) an interesting story, (iii) uniqueness, and (iv) the ability to deeply move the reader (and I promise you, anyone who can read pages 58-59 without shedding a tear is masquerading as a human).
October 4th, 2005 at 9:20 am
Great post, Shaft. For the record, you are the first to post on this book. I know that at least four of us have read this book already - but it was pre-BGB.
What a great book. I think that you went the correct route by not giving away too much of the plot. This is one of those books that the less you know about it going in, the better off that you are. I actively avoided this book for a year because all the reviews that I read talked about Cal’s issue. So I thought that I knew what the book would be about and what kind of book it would be. It wasn’t until Mrs. Cayenne read it and raved that I gave it a chance. I would have been far better off if the NYT’s review would have consisted of the following: “This book is great. You should read it. Trust us.” I would have read it in an instant.
Anyway. Along those lines, I feel like you and Mr. Chabon have gotten off on the wrong foot with “The Final Solution”. For Chabon in full effect you need to read “Kavalier and Clay”. It is a Great Book. You should read it. Trust me.
October 4th, 2005 at 3:29 pm
I actually read “Kavalier & Klay” (hence my reference to Pulitzer winners who are too wordy). Great story, great characters, and a deserving book, but Chabon was too damn caught up in metaphors and fancy-pants writing for me. You know me — I have to be spoon fed. If I have to think too hard to understand what a writer is saying, I lose interest. “Mysteries of Pittsburgh” still stands as Chabon’s greatest achievement, in my opinion, because it was written by somebody with a great idea for a story who wasn’t trying to show off with his writing style yet.
October 4th, 2005 at 4:08 pm
Huh. Well I’m stumped. You are, of course, entitled to your opinion on Chabon - but man.
June 5th, 2007 at 4:30 pm
[...] Oprah had the book world a twitter all day long with two scoops of booky goodness. Cormac MCCarthy was on her show (his first television appearance - ever) this afternoon talking about his book, The Road (reviewed by BGB here). It awaits on my TiVo. More on that later… Meanhwile, word has been leaking out all day long that the next Oprah-sanctioned book will be the Pulitzer-winning Middlesex by Jeffrey Eugenides (reviewed by BGB here). Fantastic book. First The Road, then Middlesex - is Oprah trying to blow the collective minds of the US populace single handedly? Hats off. [...]