(M53'12) The Autograph Man, Zadie Smith
ConversazioniWorld Reading Circle
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1mirrani
I got this book from the library because I simply can't keep getting books right now. There's nowhere to put them! So I went to my infinite room of holding (the library) and fetched this one. I picked /it/ over all the others I wanted because I needed an Orange Award book for July and I had already read one of her other books for January for the same reason, so I wanted to finish my Orange challenge for the year by coming full circle. I'd forgotten how hard it was to put down her books... :)
2mirrani
That's another reason they call it the good old days. Back then, people felt things in unison, like the sudden chorus that leaps from a country church when the choir starts to sing. p17
I didn't make as many notes for The Autograph Man as I did for White Teeth. I don't know if that's because I'm used to the author at this point or if it's because I know better than to try and record every line I love from her books. This was one of those, though.
Talking about the history of the Albert Hall, there is a section describing Queen Victoria's love for Albert and all of the things he hall was used for after its dedication. The final segment goes like this:
Li-Jin and his son don't know, as they walk under the arch of the entrance, jittery with anticipation, that they are about to take part in the latest episode of a very long wake. p19
I really liked that description, the concept that a building dedicated to someone's memory would be a part of the grieving process, that every event would be like a part of a long memorial.
There is a scene in the swimming pool where the main character is looking around at people in the pool. He notes all the germy things... people wiping noses and putting their hands back in the water, etc. At each note he thinks that there should be a law against such a thing in the pool. Finally we reach the climax:
After which Adam went alone to the diving tank, while Alex, treading water furiously, internally raged at a repulsive woman in fluorescent costume. Her head was hinged and awful on her fat neck. Her mouth was huge. She was laughing off her son's fecal mishap in the shallow end. There should be law upon law, with commentary. p46
Reaching the kitchen, he clicked his heels together and bowed to Grace, who was standing on the sideboard, actually standing, on two legs, either stretching or making some last-ditch attempt to evolve.p53
It should be noted that Grace is a cat.
Green frowned. The left side of his face hiked up as if some god, fishing for rabbis, had just hooked himself a juicy one. p64
"But all these women," he said, cutting Alex off, "they're all the same woman, really. Don't you see that? Kitty, Boot, Anita--they just overlap each other. Think of an art restorer peeling the paint off a portrait to find other portraits underneath. You ruin a perfectly good painting out of some misplaced curiosity--the possibility of other portraits. It's a kind of endless substitution--and all because you don't know how to deal with things as they are." p148-149
I loved the imagery in this. Not that I disliked it anywhere else, you understand... But it was a great visual and comparison.
Alex is getting on a plane, going to New York. He opens up the bag that's in his seat on the plane and looks through what is inside.
-Our Youth is but a brief night: fill it with rapture!-
So it is written in a peculiar font on the plastic bag. Alex feels no rapture when he opens this bag; he feels nothing, nothing, not even recognition. Who is this bag for? Who is this youth? What does he want with individually wrapped facial cleansing wipes? Why does he like all fonts to be bold, and all colors in flat, uncompromising blocks? What does he do with such a miniature writing pad--what notes is he making? p183
Loved it. Just loved it. Mostly because I often think the same things.
You need a specific address for the suburbs. Only in the city can you be dropped off in front of statues and behind opera houses. The suburbs are by invitation only. p191
More great thoughts and visual ideas.
He was expecting a neighboring irate Christian (sex was on the television at high volume), but through the spyhole saw a convex Honey, all forehead and eyeballs, looming out from the hall on a pair of tiny feet. p211
They reached floor 25. From this point onwards, thought Alex, a fall would be one hundred percent unsurvivable. Just a splat, while a ring or a necklace kept its noble metal shape, because we are not as strong as thins. Things win. p248
On pages 271 and 272 there's a great bit on noticing the differences in business class and coach. I really enjoyed it.
"And I'll have a bucked of champagne, big man," said Lovelear, appearing to the left. He had rented a smile off somebody and it was the wrong size. p300
Alex, like everybody, held hospitals in the highest, purest dread and loathing. To come with a bump and leave with the baby--this is the only grace available in a hospital. Other than that, there is only pain. The concentration of pain. Hospitals are unique in this concentration. There are no areas in the world dedicated to the concentration of pleasure (theme parks and their like are a concentration of the symbols of pleasure, not pleasure itself), there are no buildings dedicated to laughter, friendship or love. They'd probably be pretty gruesome if they existed, but would they smell of decay's argument with disinfectant? Would people walk through the hallways weeping? Would the shops sell only flowers and slippers and mints? Would the beds (so ominous, this!) have wheels? p303
That's it for The Autograph man. It was an enjoyable read... Sometimes a little close to home, but at the same time that made it just right.
As always, a review will come soon.
I didn't make as many notes for The Autograph Man as I did for White Teeth. I don't know if that's because I'm used to the author at this point or if it's because I know better than to try and record every line I love from her books. This was one of those, though.
Talking about the history of the Albert Hall, there is a section describing Queen Victoria's love for Albert and all of the things he hall was used for after its dedication. The final segment goes like this:
Li-Jin and his son don't know, as they walk under the arch of the entrance, jittery with anticipation, that they are about to take part in the latest episode of a very long wake. p19
I really liked that description, the concept that a building dedicated to someone's memory would be a part of the grieving process, that every event would be like a part of a long memorial.
There is a scene in the swimming pool where the main character is looking around at people in the pool. He notes all the germy things... people wiping noses and putting their hands back in the water, etc. At each note he thinks that there should be a law against such a thing in the pool. Finally we reach the climax:
After which Adam went alone to the diving tank, while Alex, treading water furiously, internally raged at a repulsive woman in fluorescent costume. Her head was hinged and awful on her fat neck. Her mouth was huge. She was laughing off her son's fecal mishap in the shallow end. There should be law upon law, with commentary. p46
Reaching the kitchen, he clicked his heels together and bowed to Grace, who was standing on the sideboard, actually standing, on two legs, either stretching or making some last-ditch attempt to evolve.p53
It should be noted that Grace is a cat.
Green frowned. The left side of his face hiked up as if some god, fishing for rabbis, had just hooked himself a juicy one. p64
"But all these women," he said, cutting Alex off, "they're all the same woman, really. Don't you see that? Kitty, Boot, Anita--they just overlap each other. Think of an art restorer peeling the paint off a portrait to find other portraits underneath. You ruin a perfectly good painting out of some misplaced curiosity--the possibility of other portraits. It's a kind of endless substitution--and all because you don't know how to deal with things as they are." p148-149
I loved the imagery in this. Not that I disliked it anywhere else, you understand... But it was a great visual and comparison.
Alex is getting on a plane, going to New York. He opens up the bag that's in his seat on the plane and looks through what is inside.
-Our Youth is but a brief night: fill it with rapture!-
So it is written in a peculiar font on the plastic bag. Alex feels no rapture when he opens this bag; he feels nothing, nothing, not even recognition. Who is this bag for? Who is this youth? What does he want with individually wrapped facial cleansing wipes? Why does he like all fonts to be bold, and all colors in flat, uncompromising blocks? What does he do with such a miniature writing pad--what notes is he making? p183
Loved it. Just loved it. Mostly because I often think the same things.
You need a specific address for the suburbs. Only in the city can you be dropped off in front of statues and behind opera houses. The suburbs are by invitation only. p191
More great thoughts and visual ideas.
He was expecting a neighboring irate Christian (sex was on the television at high volume), but through the spyhole saw a convex Honey, all forehead and eyeballs, looming out from the hall on a pair of tiny feet. p211
They reached floor 25. From this point onwards, thought Alex, a fall would be one hundred percent unsurvivable. Just a splat, while a ring or a necklace kept its noble metal shape, because we are not as strong as thins. Things win. p248
On pages 271 and 272 there's a great bit on noticing the differences in business class and coach. I really enjoyed it.
"And I'll have a bucked of champagne, big man," said Lovelear, appearing to the left. He had rented a smile off somebody and it was the wrong size. p300
Alex, like everybody, held hospitals in the highest, purest dread and loathing. To come with a bump and leave with the baby--this is the only grace available in a hospital. Other than that, there is only pain. The concentration of pain. Hospitals are unique in this concentration. There are no areas in the world dedicated to the concentration of pleasure (theme parks and their like are a concentration of the symbols of pleasure, not pleasure itself), there are no buildings dedicated to laughter, friendship or love. They'd probably be pretty gruesome if they existed, but would they smell of decay's argument with disinfectant? Would people walk through the hallways weeping? Would the shops sell only flowers and slippers and mints? Would the beds (so ominous, this!) have wheels? p303
That's it for The Autograph man. It was an enjoyable read... Sometimes a little close to home, but at the same time that made it just right.
As always, a review will come soon.
4cedargrove
As you told me at the time, I must get around to reading some of her stuff. The bits of this I was lucky enough to share with you, I enjoyed greatly. :)
