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October 08, 2021

George Ernsberger
Posted 10/8/21

Crossroads by Jonathan Franzen (Farrar, Straus and Giroux).

For all his (only occasional) crabbiness, and his apparent sense of himself as A Great Writer, there’s just no arguing with the …

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October 08, 2021

Posted

Crossroads by Jonathan Franzen (Farrar, Straus and Giroux).

For all his (only occasional) crabbiness, and his apparent sense of himself as A Great Writer, there’s just no arguing with the guy when you’re in the middle of one of his usually big novels (this one’s just over 500 pages). He simply is exactly that: a great story-maker and character-maker, and a sharply discerning observer, unforgiving but also un-condemning. There is an unmistakable sense of… well, something like fairness—you’re listening to a story by a person who simply wouldn’t permit himself to be careless with the people that he has invented. This novel, typically of this author’s books, is very American, set in a small town in the middle west, presumably much like the one Franzen grew up in. The book will, of course, be a big bestseller, and will win some of next year’s awards.

Fight Night by Miriam Toews (Bloomsbury).

But wait! We have, this week, another novel by a strong writer who’s also readable and likable in full measure, and not a bit more sentimental, or less moving. Toews (say “taves,” we’re told by early reviewers) is Canadian, which is a somewhat different kind of American, about as different from the readers of this paper as, maybe say, Californians. But they’re not “types,” anyway, but specific people that one’s glad to get to know. The book’s chief narrator, an 11-year-old, is as distinctive and real as even Franzen’s characters, smart and witty, but as a real 11-year-old might be (not adorable) if I remember right. She’ll own your heart, soon enough—well, jointly with the other narrator, her grandma, who’s probably where the 11-year-old got her wit, though their styles are distinctive; we always know who’s talking to us. And this novel’s only half the length of Franzen’s, so consider this more an imperative than a recommendation—no excuses, and anyway, you’ll be glad I insisted.

Three Sisters by Heather Morris (St. Martin’s).

Completing this trilogy of historical novels based on real lives (the column reviewed The Tattooist of Auschwitz three years ago). The sisters are Slovakian Jews who survived a stay in that death camp (saved by the surrender of Germany) and much later in their lives came to the attention of, and met, this strong novelist. So the story, the “material” of this series, is inspiring enough, but Morris is a novelist of real skill and deep feelings; these are real novels, full of life. They’ve been bestsellers, and this one can be expected to do that, too.

The Jealousy Man and Other Stories by Jo Nesbø (Knopf).

A full dozen stories, but also a dozen full stories—full of Nesbø’s dark wit and complex characters, as we’d expect. I’m tempted to say something like, it’s like getting a dozen novels! But that wouldn’t be true. Nesbø really is a master, and he knows how to write at this length, too, and it’s not by cramming.

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