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How To Be Alone, by Jonathan
Franzen I haven't read The Corrections, from which Franzen derives most of his fame (well, that, and the controvery surrounding his dis-invitation from the Oprah show), but I'm now strongly inclined to do so. This collection of miscellaneous essays showcases a number of promising traits in a writer, most importantly an ability to portray (with insight and a certain love) subtlety and contradiction in life's details. He also has a seasoned-but-reasoned old crank's tendency to deconstruct controversies and trends and insist staunchly on his own position, while at the same time still acknowledging his own silliness. He cuts right to the heart, for example, of all the recent public worrying over "loss of privacy," by observing that, one, Americans in general have far more privacy than at any other point in history; and two, we should be far more worried about the lost of public-ness, in a time when the few existing public forums are being undermined by the intrusion of matters which should stay private. His discussion of antismoking campaigns also offers "I never thought about it that way before!" pleasures, as he observes, fairly, that if cigarette manufacturers are going to be held liable as "murderers" for marketing cigarettes, then so will every convenience store that's sold a cigarette since it became public knowledge that the things are bad for you - Franzen cheerfully reminds us that for all the talk of suppressed tobacco industry reports, it hasn't exactly been a giant secret that cigarettes will kill you - the general public has been reminded of that with increasing frequency since the mid-60s. The writer has no love for the tobacco industry, but is sharp enough to observe that the anti-smoking campaign arguably shields the manufacturers - the more the public knows about tobacco, the less the industry can be blamed for foisting a mysterious and unknown toxin on buyers. Maybe all these observations don't necessarily lead to anything clear, but they all feel like they go together: reading Franzen's essays is sort of like entering a brief meditation on a subject, entertaining various points of view and experiencing a few brand-new thoughts along the way. Franzen's at his best when he connects these observations to his own life. His complex mix of self-doubt and certainty allows him to powerfully connect his individual experiences (especially those related to the loss of his parents and his struggle with the meaning of being a novelist in the TV age) to more general themes and witty observations without ever coming across as schmaltzy or cynical. He's at his worst when put on the case as a journalist to cover seemingly random topics such as the prison system and the post office; these essays are certainly filled with well-shaped personalities, and they maintain interest as they go on, but their steady forward course means less of the observational tangents that make the other essays work. But since none of them take longer than a sitting to knock out, that's forgiveable. Strongly recommended. This commentary is part of The Stories Addison Reads. If you came to this page from an outside link and can't see the complete book listing, click here to refresh the frame. |