MY BOOK WORLD
I’ve so enjoyed Christopher Brown’s monthly newsletter in which he examines the environment in which he lives—in and around Austin, Texas. It is thoughtful, well-researched, and often he includes strong photographs demonstrating either positive or negative aspects of the local ecology.
It is probably the mark of an excellent writer that (in this case) he can switch from one genre of writing to another. At the same time, I find this novel wanting. Much of this stance may be my fault. I don’t usually read futuristic fiction. I don’t care for fiction where there are too many characters to keep track of (oh, my aging brain). I find myself not caring much about any of them. However, the two main characters—a young man and his half-sister—attempt to make contact with one another after being separated.
This dystopian (I think) novel takes place when a vast region in the middle of the country is dubbed the Tropic of Kansas. This facile allusion to Henry Miller’s novel also sets up the extended metaphor of wasteland. (And since I grew up in Kansas, the metaphor is not lost on me—although I could be a bit insulted.) Tania has worked for the government but now is a lone wolf. Her brother, on his own since a child, is a wunderkind of chase and escape. The entire novel is plot driven, alternating Tania’s chapters with those of her brother, Sig. I tend to enjoy novels that are more character driven. Action, action, action—it gets a bit tiring without some reflection on the part of the characters. After all, the United States of America has more or less imploded. A bunch of ragtags are trying to put it back together, and yet no one seems to give much thought to what they are doing.
I may be missing the point of Tropic of Kansas, and my apologies to the author if I am. As I once said to my parents when being introduced to a new food, “I’m trying to like it.”
Coming Next:
TUES: A Writer's Wit | Maureen F. McHugh
WEDS: A Writer's Wit | Frederick Douglass
THURS: A Writer's Wit | Susan Brownmiller
FRI: My Book World | Ian McEwan, Saturday