I can't believe it has been almost a month since I've posted a new review. I've been putting off this one for a couple of weeks for a few reasons. The first of which is that I have been crazy busy with house stuff. Amazingly enough, renovating a 125 year old house isn't conducive to reading, let alone writing my reaction to what I have read. Who would have guessed?
The other is that I just didn't want to write anything about this novel. I didn't enjoy reading it and I didn't expect to get much fun out of writing about it. I'll go ahead and finally do it, but you can't make me like it!
Falconer is a faux-intellectual piece of work about a strung out drug addict named Farragut who is in jail for the murder of a certain someone (wouldn't want to ruin it for those of you who still want to read it after this review). Farragut also happens to be a middle class intellectual, unfortunately for us reading about him. Not a whole lot happens in this book; much is in the way of flashbacks that reference his wife and the tumultuous relationship it seems they had before he was incarcerated. There is a lot of music by Farragut about this an that as well.
Pretty much nothing of importance happens in this book. Sure, things happen, but very few of them are particularly exciting, engaging, or thought-provoking. The characters are formulaic, unrealistic and none act in a manner which I expect anyone would ever act in prison. None of them, and particularly not Farragut, are likable whatsoever. Some of them are pitiful, but none with redeeming qualities.
There is really no plot to analyze, only the daily life of a prisoner and the earlier mentioned flashbacks. Outside of a couple interesting moments, such as a prison riot (which amounted to nothing), this is a tremendously boring book. It took me quite a long time tp read, all outside factors held constant, despite barely being over 200 pages. Even the writing itself is quite annoying. The dialogue is completely absurd at points and high culture references are made frequently for absolutely no reason. This is 1970's suburban edginess at its stupid, cringingly vacuous worst.
It should be noted that there is a good deal of content in this novel that could be considered obscene by some. If you are the type who burns books or tries to get them banned from libraries, this one probably isn't for you. There is a pretty good amount of vulgar language and explicit sexual content. Strangely enough, this didn't bother me as much as the writing and the rest of the book itself. Frankly, I was offended by how crappy the book was as a whole, completely outside of any potentially offensive material.
With all of this terrible-ness in mind, I give Falconer by John Cheever three stars out of ten. There is virtually no reason to pick up this book unless you're a huge John Cheever fan (do those exist?) and this is the last book of his you haven't read yet. Otherwise, don't waste your time.
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I promise it won't be another month before I get another review up. I actually just finished Sister Carrie (#33 on Modern Library top 100) by Theodore Drieser, which is what prompted me to get my butt in gear so I didn't have to stack up reviews. Next up after that will be Plainsong by Kent Haruf. See you soon!
This is a beautiful book. No, it is not plot driven, but haunting insights into the intensity of regular lives pervade the writing. The action in this book is quiet and mostly takes place by proxy. A thick, sweet inertia envelopes the readers and challenges them to feel it in their breath when the book is over. Some of the passages are unforgettable -- Cheever is at his best when he describes the character of Farragut's heroin addiction. This review writer has a clear opinion, but I hope that any casual Googlers who come this way will choose to read this book for its succulent, everyday melancholy.
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