Monthly Archives: November 2021

Crossroads: Dear, God

You’re thinking, Erin, you haven’t read much in October. And you’re wrong! I read Empire of Pain at a neat 550 and then chased it with Jonathan Franzen’s newest, Crossroads, at 600, and so find myself owing the library A LOT in late fines because I – ridiculously, ambitiously, foolishly – persisted in keeping four other novels waiting on my nightstand that were CLEARLY NOT GOING TO BE READ in their two week loan window, but what, dear reader, do I have to offer the world if not my unrealistic and ill-founded font of never ending hope? (It’s true, I can also offer pie).

And was Franzen’s book ‘worth’ the investment of three weeks and $9.00 in late fines? I don’t know, maybe? Probably? I mean, if it was just straight up library free, then sure. But should you pay for it? Which isn’t that the same as saying should it exist at all because what are books if not to be marketed and BOY DO I DIGRESS tonight.

Right right. So it’s a big, fat American family novel in keeping with Freedom, Purity and The Corrections. This one follows each of the members of the Hildebrandt family (with the notable exception of the youngest, Judson, who is – I gather – too innocent/good/pure to warrant his own narrative voice yet) as they abandon/give up/stray from/wander/fall apart [pick your verb] the good/straight/normal/predictable [pick your adjective] path/journey/role/life [and noun] and instead demonstrate the thousands of ways everyone is failing to live up to any kind of normalized ideal and is instead holding it together on appearance and self proclamation.

The God part of the book was tricky for me as a reader. Dedicated atheist etc, I approach novels assuming the same and what Crossroads pitches isn’t that there is a God necessarily, or that God is the answer, but instead explores how religion functions for individuals and communities in America, and how belief – in this case in God – functions as some kind of anchor, even while the ‘institution’ surrounding that belief is corrupt and decaying.

Set in the 1970s the simplicity in plot where catastrophes can take place because cellphones don’t exist was also charming. And where the yearning for something steady or someone to whom an answer could be demanded is equally resonant.

So yeah. The writing has some really great moments, the characters (particularly Perry) are terrific, and on the whole it’s reasonably interesting. But no, I wouldn’t give up your holidays to read it. Instead, pick a bleak month like early November and have at it.

And sure, ask me why I keep reading Jonathan Franzen novels when every time I end up being like “shrug.” I DON’T KNOW. Dupe for the marketing? Probably. No straight answers tonight, folks.

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Filed under American literature, Fiction

Empire of Pain: It Won’t Feel Good (and not just because it is literally very heavy) But A Must Read

I did commit to reading more nonfiction this year, and so in the waning months of 2021 I thought, why not read something cheerful, like a 560 page deep dive into the Sackler family and their obscene greed that brought the world mass marketed pharmaceuticals and Oxycontin and the subsequent hundreds of thousands of overdose deaths?

I didn’t realize when ordering it from the library that it was from the same author, Patrick Radden Keefe, as my previous 2021 nonfiction win, Say Nothing. But happy discovery, as like Say Nothing the writing is ‘novelistic’ in that people (cough characters) are afforded full depth and complicated motivations and that there is a plot that one can latch onto. So no dry, dull non-fiction for this reader. (Sure, sure, I get it, 2021’s experiment has proven that non-fiction is… pretty great. Don’t rub it in, NHFH.)

What this one offers is on the surface a biography of the Sackler family, beginning with the three brothers that found Purdue pharmaceuticals, but chiefly Arthur, who is something of an impossible figure to believe in the range of interests, the maniacal pursuit of them and the ‘success’ he brought in merging the fields of advertising, medicine and drug development. We then follow the subsequent generations of Sacklers and their truly relentless and amoral pursuit of profit over the clear and consistent and unequivocal proof the dangers of their opioid products. The level of corruption within the government and government agencies, of doctors and pharmacies, the collusion and feigned ignorance, it’s all… a lot, and yet, somehow not at all surprising.

The book explores with some complexity the complicity of later generations and what level of involvement within the Sackler business should ‘taint’ a Sackler family member. Or whether benefiting – directly or indirectly – from Sackler profits besmirches the character or actions of an individual family member, some of whom (though not many) were tangential to the direct business dealings.

I especially appreciated the section detailing the work of activist artist, Nan Goldin, and the demonstration of the power of art to unsettle and unseat power. A meta commentary, I’m sure, on the potential of the book to provoke change, of books to make a difference.

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Filed under Bestseller, New York Times Notable, Non-fiction, Prize Winner