Balls and Walnuts
more than you ever wanted to know
Author in need of a bitch-slap
No, not me, at least I’m not in any more need of a bitch-slapping than usual. Uh-uh. This guy, and for this book:
Grrr.
And he’s such a talented author, too. As with The Book Thief, Zusak had me caring deeply for his characters: his protagonist, a slacker taxi driver named Ed Kennedy, Ed’s smelly dog the Doorman, and his friends — Ritchie, Marv, and Audrey, with whom Ed is deeply and hopelessly in love. Ed’s life is over at 19. He wants nothing more out of life than what he has and he doesn’t have much.
The novel opens with a bank robbery which Ed (“For some reason I’ll never understand”) foils. He’s a hero now, but this is no tale of a life transformed by the media spotlight. Ed begins receiving playing cards, aces with mysterious messages that pull him out of his life and transform him into someone new, someone better.
There’s poignancy to burn in these individual stories, and while some verge on silliness, all have merit. Nor does Zusak go for any cheap shot techniques for tugging the heart-strings. The old folks in this novel don’t die, nor does Ed’s senior citizen dog, the Doorman. The emotions Zusak draws from the reader are genuine.
You can even forgive him.
Certain.
Annoying.
Stylistic tics.
Like breaking sentences into fragments and spraying them across the page. Zusak is that good — his literary tics seem more charming than annoying. But that ending. I can’t get past the ending.
I looked around on the ‘net and found mostly glowing reviews for I am the Messenger. At least one reviewer felt the same way as I did, Matt Berman at Common Sense Media:
Aside from some rather ridiculous fixes to some of the problems Ed encounters (he unites two fighting brothers by letting them beat him up together), the biggest problem here is the disappointing, out-of-left-field ending.
Instead of being clever and literary and philosophical, as the author apparently thinks it is, it’s just lame. The resolution to the big mystery of who is sending the cards reads as if Zusak just couldn’t figure out how to get out of the hole he’d dug for himself, so he just slapped this on.
But if you can ignore the last 10 pages, this is a terrific, at times moving, and thought-provoking story that can lead readers to look at their own worlds in a slightly different way.
So there you have it. I ranted about the ending, and I let another guy do some ranting too, and neither one of us spoiled the ending.
The real pisser? Zusak’s message is a good one. We can make a difference in the lives of others, both strangers and loved ones. We can change our own lives. But then Zusak goes and undermines everything with an ending which seems to say, “Yes, you can do it — in fiction!”
Will I read any more from Zusak? I think so. If nothing else, I’m impressed with the seeming effortlessness with which he evokes emotion. That’s talent.
But I just don’t trust the guy anymore.
D.
Alas, I picked this up along with The Book Thief a few weeks ago, fully intending to read TBT because of a stellar review I read of it (also yours, naturally) and this one because, well, it was a fairly cheap paperback with a silver “award winning” sticker on it so I figured it must also be good. Maybe I’ll just skip it.
I’m sorry, but I promised Jesus that I would pimp this tough choice concerning the president of the United States. Your vote is needed.
Erin, you are siiiiiiick. I took the venereal disease, btw.
IL, consider yourself warned. I’m still p.o.’d over the ending (now about 7 hours since writing that review). With most metafiction, the author clues the reader in promptly “this is metafiction, watch out.” Not so this one. But maybe if you’re forewarned, it won’t be quite so nasty.
Do read TBT, though. I enjoyed that one quite a lot, and (as I think I mentioned in the review) I don’t like most WWII-related fiction.
Doug! Remember when you did that post about camel toe? I found you an excellent picture…All I can say is, it’s not her you should look at. Here’s the pic
Sorry to put it here, I wasn’t sure if you get notification of comments, and your e-mail doesn’t seem to like me. But too good to let pass.
Doesn’t leave much to the imagination, does it? He’s cut, I can tell that much!
Isn’t a book with a lame ending kind of like having sex for 3 hours with no orgasm?
Or maybe I really need to turn off the computer and get some sleep.
Yes, but sex for 3 hours with no orgasm is still vastly preferable to no sex at all.