This is the sixth edition of the Baltimore Online Book Club. Every month or so, I post a review of the latest novel we read in our book club. This edition consists of a review of Francine Prose's Blue Angel. We generally select novels by well-established contemporary authors. We will be putting a new reading list together soon and welcome suggestions from the online community.
Blue Angel
by Francine Prose
HarperCollinsPublishers
New York, NY 2000
314 pages
According to the novel's dust jacket, "Blue Angel does for creative writing programs what Upton Sinclair's The Jungle did for the meat-packing industry." True, but it offers much more than a message; it is a well-written tale of a man's fall and possible redemption. The novel is indeed a carefully constructed page turner which exposes the narrow-minded, even hysterical, culture wars being waged on campuses today.
In poetry and music, it is important to surprise, at least not bore, the reader or listener. In music, you must not play a repeat phrase exactly the same way; only bad poetry is predictable. Prose is different--it's the meaning that is important. An author needs to write well, of course, but if the emphasis is on innovative language, the meaning tends to get lost. (James Joyce and some others are exceptions; they are closer to poetry and to music than to prose.) In contrast to music and poetry, an author of a novel must surprise or at least strive to assure that the reader doesn't get bored, by constructing a plot that takes interesting detours from the predictable.
Francine Prose has done just that. Stereotypes are turned on their heads. This is a story of a vulnerable middle-aged white male professor who is seduced by a sadistic student. She knows what she wants and will do anything to get it. He doesn't know what he wants and "gets it" in the sense that she ruins his life.
His student, Angela Argo, is an ambitious writer and is much more talented than any of Svenson's student's. (For some reason, he is only one of two characters that are referred to by his last name, a symbol, perhaps, of his depersonalization.)
Svenson is hardly innocent, of course. He could have stopped himself at an earlier stage of his obsession. Instead, he continued to give Angela private consultations. He drove her miles to buy a computer. Finally, he went to her dorm room, where his passion took over. This is indeed egregious behavior.
Prose's--and the reader's--sympathy must remain with Svenson, however, since the premise of the book, in addition to telling a good story, is to give a striking example of how incorrect political correctness can be. She does this by carefully, and at considerable length, depicting Svenson's vulnerability.
He was once a very promising novelist. His first book, Phoenix Time, got excellent reviews. He has received an advance to write a second, but for years he has been suffering from a severe case of writer's block. He teaches creative writing at a small liberal arts college in New England. The students' short stories are terrible. They are completely untalented, yet Svenson is very wary of criticizing them, since he's afraid the students would complain and get him into trouble. He only dares to agree with a student who says blandly what he would like to say forcefully about another student's work. .
He is in love with Sherrie, his wife, but routine has blanched and etiolated the ruddy complexion of their former love. The school is run by philistines. He has no friends among the staff with the exception of Meg, who teaches poetry. He avoids her because he is attracted to her. They came close to letting passion take its course. Svenson flees, since he does indeed love his wife and does not wish to do anything to hurt her or put their relationship at risk. This is a brilliant touch by Prose. She thus shows us that Svenson remained in control throughout his marriage until he lost control, like a teenager, after being seduced by a woman in her twenties who had the seductive skills of Mata Hari.
This is a very subtle retelling of the early German film classic, The Blue Angel. The well known plot relates Lola Lola's seduction of a respected, much older teacher. He is obsessed; she isn't. She humiliates him; the sexy sadist ruins his life.
Svenson discovers that Angela--her name, of course, recalls the title of the movie--has rented The Blue Angel from a video store in town--ancient history! They no longer exist; the novel was written in the year 2000.) He rents it and watches it again.
Angela seduces him in order to get her novel published. Svenson leaves his family on Thanksgiving weekend to take a trip to New York to show his publisher her manuscript. The publisher refuses even to read it. The obsessed Svenson has lost control of himself; a crash is inevitable.
Furious, Angela surreptitiously records their conversation which gives the impression that Svenson promised to get her novel published if she agrees to have sex. For the first time she is honest about their relationship: "The only reason I let you fuck me was so you could help me get this novel to someone who could do something--"
She turns him in. Everyone at the hearing is convinced of his guilt. Svenson paradoxically is relieved. At last he will be able to leave the microcosm of back-biting banality which had been ruining his mind, a miserable nest in the middle of nowhere from which he lacked the courage to leave.
He might be relieved, but he's still a masochist. He says nothing in his own defense. Amazed at Angela's lies and sadism, he asks her at the end of the hearing, "What the fuck were you trying to do?" He's glad to leave but how will a de facto nolo contendere plea influence future potential employers? Why didn't he hire a lawyer?
Angela's use of vulgar language and Svenson's are contrasted brilliantly. Svenson, who tends to say what he thinks, recklessly uses a vulgarism. (A comic scene at the beginning also serves to reveal that the dean hates such language.) Angela has removed her studs and boots and is all shirley-templed up for the hearing She behaves, well, like an angel. She is a master manipulator; Svenson who uses the vulgarism in front of the dean--and thereby removes any sympathy the stuffy dean might have had--is too good, too naive, too innocent to a fault to behave like Angela.
If we had learned what Svenson did before reading the novel, our sympathies would lie with Angela. Prose brilliantly upends our expectations in her convincing portrait of a good man with a tragic flaw.
Blue Angel is a brilliant novel. The plot, however, is perhaps constructed a bit too carefully. Almost nothing in the novel is extraneous to its subject; the demise of guilty as innocent professor. An example: early in the novel, Svenson has a broken tooth which he habitually and nervously works over with his tongue. Even that had significance: it becomes a symbol of his age. The tooth cracks while he is making love to Angela, preventing consummation. No satisfaction for poor Svenson in mind nor in body!
Prose convinces us that left-wing loonies who are in control of many American campuses these days are just as whacky and as dangerous as the right-wing loonies of American politics. Much racism and sexism remains on and off campus; this is undeniable. We wouldn't have culture wars if those who had power had behaved justly; they obviously didn't. Sometimes, however, political correctness protects the guilty. Has it gone too far? Whatever your conclusion, if you enjoy well written novels, this one is for you. It is a gem.
*
Previous reviews from the Baltimore Online Book Club, all available online. Simply google the title and my name, Thomas Dorsett
1. The New Life by Orhan Pamuk
2. Anna Karenina by Leo Tolstoy
3. Exit Ghost by Philip Roth
4. Disgrace by J.M. Coetzee
5. A Sport and a Pastime by James Salters
Blue Angel
by Francine Prose
HarperCollinsPublishers
New York, NY 2000
314 pages
According to the novel's dust jacket, "Blue Angel does for creative writing programs what Upton Sinclair's The Jungle did for the meat-packing industry." True, but it offers much more than a message; it is a well-written tale of a man's fall and possible redemption. The novel is indeed a carefully constructed page turner which exposes the narrow-minded, even hysterical, culture wars being waged on campuses today.
In poetry and music, it is important to surprise, at least not bore, the reader or listener. In music, you must not play a repeat phrase exactly the same way; only bad poetry is predictable. Prose is different--it's the meaning that is important. An author needs to write well, of course, but if the emphasis is on innovative language, the meaning tends to get lost. (James Joyce and some others are exceptions; they are closer to poetry and to music than to prose.) In contrast to music and poetry, an author of a novel must surprise or at least strive to assure that the reader doesn't get bored, by constructing a plot that takes interesting detours from the predictable.
Francine Prose has done just that. Stereotypes are turned on their heads. This is a story of a vulnerable middle-aged white male professor who is seduced by a sadistic student. She knows what she wants and will do anything to get it. He doesn't know what he wants and "gets it" in the sense that she ruins his life.
His student, Angela Argo, is an ambitious writer and is much more talented than any of Svenson's student's. (For some reason, he is only one of two characters that are referred to by his last name, a symbol, perhaps, of his depersonalization.)
Svenson is hardly innocent, of course. He could have stopped himself at an earlier stage of his obsession. Instead, he continued to give Angela private consultations. He drove her miles to buy a computer. Finally, he went to her dorm room, where his passion took over. This is indeed egregious behavior.
Prose's--and the reader's--sympathy must remain with Svenson, however, since the premise of the book, in addition to telling a good story, is to give a striking example of how incorrect political correctness can be. She does this by carefully, and at considerable length, depicting Svenson's vulnerability.
He was once a very promising novelist. His first book, Phoenix Time, got excellent reviews. He has received an advance to write a second, but for years he has been suffering from a severe case of writer's block. He teaches creative writing at a small liberal arts college in New England. The students' short stories are terrible. They are completely untalented, yet Svenson is very wary of criticizing them, since he's afraid the students would complain and get him into trouble. He only dares to agree with a student who says blandly what he would like to say forcefully about another student's work. .
He is in love with Sherrie, his wife, but routine has blanched and etiolated the ruddy complexion of their former love. The school is run by philistines. He has no friends among the staff with the exception of Meg, who teaches poetry. He avoids her because he is attracted to her. They came close to letting passion take its course. Svenson flees, since he does indeed love his wife and does not wish to do anything to hurt her or put their relationship at risk. This is a brilliant touch by Prose. She thus shows us that Svenson remained in control throughout his marriage until he lost control, like a teenager, after being seduced by a woman in her twenties who had the seductive skills of Mata Hari.
This is a very subtle retelling of the early German film classic, The Blue Angel. The well known plot relates Lola Lola's seduction of a respected, much older teacher. He is obsessed; she isn't. She humiliates him; the sexy sadist ruins his life.
Svenson discovers that Angela--her name, of course, recalls the title of the movie--has rented The Blue Angel from a video store in town--ancient history! They no longer exist; the novel was written in the year 2000.) He rents it and watches it again.
Angela seduces him in order to get her novel published. Svenson leaves his family on Thanksgiving weekend to take a trip to New York to show his publisher her manuscript. The publisher refuses even to read it. The obsessed Svenson has lost control of himself; a crash is inevitable.
Furious, Angela surreptitiously records their conversation which gives the impression that Svenson promised to get her novel published if she agrees to have sex. For the first time she is honest about their relationship: "The only reason I let you fuck me was so you could help me get this novel to someone who could do something--"
She turns him in. Everyone at the hearing is convinced of his guilt. Svenson paradoxically is relieved. At last he will be able to leave the microcosm of back-biting banality which had been ruining his mind, a miserable nest in the middle of nowhere from which he lacked the courage to leave.
He might be relieved, but he's still a masochist. He says nothing in his own defense. Amazed at Angela's lies and sadism, he asks her at the end of the hearing, "What the fuck were you trying to do?" He's glad to leave but how will a de facto nolo contendere plea influence future potential employers? Why didn't he hire a lawyer?
Angela's use of vulgar language and Svenson's are contrasted brilliantly. Svenson, who tends to say what he thinks, recklessly uses a vulgarism. (A comic scene at the beginning also serves to reveal that the dean hates such language.) Angela has removed her studs and boots and is all shirley-templed up for the hearing She behaves, well, like an angel. She is a master manipulator; Svenson who uses the vulgarism in front of the dean--and thereby removes any sympathy the stuffy dean might have had--is too good, too naive, too innocent to a fault to behave like Angela.
If we had learned what Svenson did before reading the novel, our sympathies would lie with Angela. Prose brilliantly upends our expectations in her convincing portrait of a good man with a tragic flaw.
Blue Angel is a brilliant novel. The plot, however, is perhaps constructed a bit too carefully. Almost nothing in the novel is extraneous to its subject; the demise of guilty as innocent professor. An example: early in the novel, Svenson has a broken tooth which he habitually and nervously works over with his tongue. Even that had significance: it becomes a symbol of his age. The tooth cracks while he is making love to Angela, preventing consummation. No satisfaction for poor Svenson in mind nor in body!
Prose convinces us that left-wing loonies who are in control of many American campuses these days are just as whacky and as dangerous as the right-wing loonies of American politics. Much racism and sexism remains on and off campus; this is undeniable. We wouldn't have culture wars if those who had power had behaved justly; they obviously didn't. Sometimes, however, political correctness protects the guilty. Has it gone too far? Whatever your conclusion, if you enjoy well written novels, this one is for you. It is a gem.
*
Previous reviews from the Baltimore Online Book Club, all available online. Simply google the title and my name, Thomas Dorsett
1. The New Life by Orhan Pamuk
2. Anna Karenina by Leo Tolstoy
3. Exit Ghost by Philip Roth
4. Disgrace by J.M. Coetzee
5. A Sport and a Pastime by James Salters
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