Air

Having read Run, I'm really not sure why it was recommended to me. It's not a bad novel, but neither did it impress me much. As I may have mentioned, Patchett's capable of writing some very emotionally affecting passages but only so long as her characters don't speak. Whenever there's dialogue, I get fatally distracted by how unconvincing it is--particularly if an adolescent is speaking. I found myself wondering, for instance, if she'd ever listened to how college-age males actually talk to each other.

Compounding the problem, the novel supposedly addresses issues of privilege and race. I also mentioned that I was sceptical how well a well-off White woman from Nashville could write urban Black characters. With good reason, as it turns out. Everyone speaks standard English all the time, from taxi drivers to the young girl who we're supposed to believe grew up in the projects. If I told you who the characters were and then read you lines at random, I suspect you'd have difficulty matching them up. You certainly wouldn't be able to tell me they were all from Boston, that's for sure.

But what I really can't forgive is the Mighty Whitey storyline which requires bumping off the one character who stands in the way of having the poor (but preternaturally gifted, mature, and well-mannered) kids delivered into a rich White family who can guarantee them a life full of wins. In the back-of-the-book interview there's some guff about how it's a book about about community and responsibility and giving back. (She actually calls it "a novel about politics".) But to me it was all about flattering us White liberals for our token acts of charity. No wonder the NYT loved it.

I'm not sure what it will take to wash out the memory of it. As I was writing some more background for my RPG character I realised that, without intending to, I seem to have made her very similar to the (human) protagonist of nihilistic_kid's Sensation. Which, naturally, reminded me of my intention to read the novel. But even if Amazon has buried the Hachette, I'm still not fond of relying on it more than I need to. So I ordered it directly from the publisher and god only knows when it will arrive.

In the meantime I guess I still have my short stories. Patchett's artificial Negroes made me long for a taste of the real thing, so I'm thinking of picking up Edward P. Jones once again. On the strength of Lost in the city I grabbed All Aunt Hagar's children but I still haven't gotten around to cracking the cover. That's an easily-remedied oversight.