Wednesday, April 29, 2020

The Luminaries by Eleanor Catton

The Luminaries by Eleanor Catton was our March and April book club pick. We met in early March (face to face!) to do some postcard writing for Wisconsin's disastrous April election (our candidate did win, so it wasn't as disastrous as it could have been, but because the novel is 848 pages long, we decided that perhaps we'd give ourselves more than a month to read it.  We did our book club via Zoom, which was not the same as meeting in person, but was the highlight of my week, so that is how book club goes in the time of coronavirus. The book was awarded the 2013 Mann Booker prize and is highly regarded by many critics.

This novel.  What can I say about this novel? It wasn't the book for me, I'll say that much. To simplify this book is to say it's about a series of inexplicable events that take place in a New Zealand gold mining town in the 1860s.  You start out with dozens of threads that eventually kind of, sort of, tie together at the end.  To simplify it even further, it's a bunch of dudes sitting around talking to other dudes and the only appearances of women are in the form of a whore; a timid, downtrodden wife; and the cunning, devious widow.  The first one hundred pages are twelve men sitting in a hotel bar uncovering the story of what had taken place in the previous six months and those first one hundred pages took me approximately six weeks to read because I kept falling asleep.  Boring dudes talking about boring things just doesn't work for me.

I am going to say, not in a self-deprecating way, that maybe this book was too smart for me. I was reading it carefully, taking notes, and I still don't fully understand the convoluted plot.  The book's framing device was set around the zodiac. There are twelve main dude characters that we follow around and each represents a zodiac sign. At the beginning of each part, there's a star chart. I'm pretty sure that's supposed to tell me something, but it doesn't.  The other framing device the author uses is that each part is half as long as the preceding part, so the first interminable section of the book is half the book, the next section is a quarter of the book, the next and eighth, and so on. It makes it seem like the novel is picking up speed as it nears the end, but it just ends up making it feel like the ending is rushed, which is INSANE in a book with as many pages as this one had.

My book club peeps liked this book for the most part. They found the setting immersive and liked being put in a different world than the one where we currently live. They didn't mind the terrible stereotypes of women (NGS, there wouldn't BE women there - get over it!). They didn't mind the strange detours into astrological predictions. They didn't even notice the strange mathematical structure of the book (why would you even bother if only one person in every ten who reads the book gets it?).   So I'm definitely in the minority.  

Here are some of my notes.

Notable lines:
1) Drake was a greasy, nasal fellow of limited intelligence; hearing his name, one was put in mind not of the naval hero but of the common duck, a species he closely resembled. (page 88)

2) A phrase of his father’s returned to him: you give a dog a bad name, and that dog is bad for life. (page 165)

All the things I had to look up:
1) Frock coat, tailcoat, Norfolk jacket (page 1): There were a bunch of dudes in a room and the description was to make sure you knew that they were dressed in a variety of different types of formality and to also indicate that there were class differences.  

2) Baise (page 1): A coarse, typically green woolen material resembling felt, used for covering billiard and card tables. My husband was appalled that I didn't know this word, but not everyone grew up with a pool table in the basement.

3) Spume (page 2): Froth or foam, especially that found on waves.

4) VanDyck's Charles (page 2): Reference to an oil-on-canvas portrait of Charles I of England by Anthony van Dyck c. 1635, now in the Louvre Museum, Paris. It depicts Charles in civilian clothing and standing next to a horse as if resting on a hunt, in a manner described by the Louvre as a "subtle compromise between gentlemanly nonchalance and regal assurance.”
5) Passing his lucifers (page 11): This phrase was used half a dozen times in the book.  It basically means passing a match, like to light a cigar or cigarette.

6) Sal volatile (page 19): A scented solution of ammonium carbonate in alcohol, used as smelling salts.

7) Acccoucheuse (page 22): French for a woman who is an obstetrician (a physician skilled in the art and science of managing pregnancy, labor and the time after delivery) or a midwife (today a non-physician trained to assist a woman during childbirth).

8)  Kowhai flower (page 45): Widely regarded as New Zealand's national flower, although an official designation doesn't exist.
9) Doss-house (page 94): This is a synonym for flophouse, a derogatory term for a place that offers low cost lodging, providing a place to sleep and minimal amenities.

10) Pounamu (page 99): "Greenstone" in New Zealand English - several types of hard and durable stone found in southern New Zealand; highly valued by the Maori.

11) I looked up lots of birds. 
A) Kereu (page 102) - the only pigeon endemic to the New Zealand mainland
B) Petrel (page 628) - any of numerous seabirds; one of the smaller long-winged birds that fly far from land
C) Gannet (page 628) - a large seabird with mainly white plumage, known for catching fish by plunge-driving
D) Albatross (page 628) - I knew what an albatross was, but wanted to see a photo of it to compare it the other birds being described. A very large oceanic bird with long narrow wings.
E) Tui (page 815) - Endemic passerine bird of New Zealand. It's gorgeous and has a great song and a pom pom on its chest.
Tui.


12) Bills of lading (page 118): A detailed list of a shipment of good in form of a receipt given by the carrier to the person consigning the goods. Oddly enough, this also came up in another book I was reading.

13) Seven virtues/cardinal four (page 135): I'm too much of a heathen to know this reference. Traditionally, the seven Christian virtues or heavenly virtues combine the four classical cardinal virtues of prudencejusticetemperance, and courage (or fortitude) with the three theological virtues of faithhope, and charity.

14) They're as chalk and cheese (page 197): An idiom referencing that two people or things are completely different from one another. 

15) Kahikatea (page 207): A coniferous tree endemic to New Zealand. The tree grows to a height of 180 feet with a trunk exceeding 3 feet in diameter.  

16) Flotsam v. jetsam (page 389): I've looked this up so many times in my life.  Flotsam refers to a sunken vessel whose goods float to the surface of the sea, or any floating cargo that is cast overboard.  Jetsam designates any cargo that is intentionally discarded from a ship or wreckage (jettisoning something).

17) Fossick (page 390): Rummage or search; search for gold in abandoned workings.

18) Abstemious (page 425): Not self-indulgent, especially when eating and drinking.

19) Euchred (page 585): Towards the end of the novel, this was used so much.  It means to deceive, outwit, or cheat.

20) Fel de se (page 653): Suicide.

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