litlover12 (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
litlover12) wrote2009-12-31 11:54 am
litlover12) wrote2009-12-31 11:54 am
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Dr. House, meet Mary Sue
Funny thing about Madeleine L'Engle. When she's good (the Time series, The Joys of Love, Two-Part Invention), she's very, VERY good. But when she's bad . . . well, you know.
Alas, I have to place A Severed Wasp in the latter category. This is largely the fault of its protagonist, Katherine Forrester Vigneras, quite possibly the most unappealing heroine L'Engle ever wrote. In her adolescence (in The Small Rain) she wasn't so bad, but in her old age she's prickly, self-absorbed, and insufferable. And as we find out through flashbacks, her morals leave quite a lot to be desired. I don't mean to be judgmental, but I can think of few people who wouldn't be shocked and offended by what she and her husband did in the past -- and even more shocked and offended by their reasons for doing it. They had both suffered greatly during World War II, especially him, but their response to their experiences is atrocious. And the fact that L'Engle lets their actions pass pretty much without comment makes me seriously question her judgment, which makes me sad, because there really are a lot of things that I like about her. (It's not the first L'Engle book to make me do so, though; I had much the same reaction to Camilla, although what happened there wasn't quite so icky.)
All this -- although the icky part is a secret from nearly all the other characters -- makes it all the weirder that everyone Katherine meets virtually worships her from the get-go. There's this sort of mass reaction of "Just sitting here with you for five minutes has completely changed my life for the better, and just hearing your voice on the phone takes away all my fear, and here, have some tea, and have some dinner, and let me rub your back, and please may I name my firstborn child after you?" Okay, she's an astonishingly brilliant pianist, but good grief. The woman comes across like the love child of Dr. House and Mary Sue.
Frankly, it's almost a relief when, late in the book, someone confesses to hating Katherine. So naturally, it turns out that that person is sick in the head.
I won't say there aren't wonderful glimmers of insight here about the arts, family life, faith, and life in general. But the book is mostly Katherine, and that makes it, in my estimation, not a very good book. Two stars out of five.
Now I'm reading A Preface to Paradise Lost by C. S. Lewis.
Alas, I have to place A Severed Wasp in the latter category. This is largely the fault of its protagonist, Katherine Forrester Vigneras, quite possibly the most unappealing heroine L'Engle ever wrote. In her adolescence (in The Small Rain) she wasn't so bad, but in her old age she's prickly, self-absorbed, and insufferable. And as we find out through flashbacks, her morals leave quite a lot to be desired. I don't mean to be judgmental, but I can think of few people who wouldn't be shocked and offended by what she and her husband did in the past -- and even more shocked and offended by their reasons for doing it. They had both suffered greatly during World War II, especially him, but their response to their experiences is atrocious. And the fact that L'Engle lets their actions pass pretty much without comment makes me seriously question her judgment, which makes me sad, because there really are a lot of things that I like about her. (It's not the first L'Engle book to make me do so, though; I had much the same reaction to Camilla, although what happened there wasn't quite so icky.)
All this -- although the icky part is a secret from nearly all the other characters -- makes it all the weirder that everyone Katherine meets virtually worships her from the get-go. There's this sort of mass reaction of "Just sitting here with you for five minutes has completely changed my life for the better, and just hearing your voice on the phone takes away all my fear, and here, have some tea, and have some dinner, and let me rub your back, and please may I name my firstborn child after you?" Okay, she's an astonishingly brilliant pianist, but good grief. The woman comes across like the love child of Dr. House and Mary Sue.
Frankly, it's almost a relief when, late in the book, someone confesses to hating Katherine. So naturally, it turns out that that person is sick in the head.
I won't say there aren't wonderful glimmers of insight here about the arts, family life, faith, and life in general. But the book is mostly Katherine, and that makes it, in my estimation, not a very good book. Two stars out of five.
Now I'm reading A Preface to Paradise Lost by C. S. Lewis.
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