Audrey SchulmanRezensionen
Autor von Theory of Bastards
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Theory of Bastards von Audrey Schulman
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Alright that's it. I started skimming at 26% which means I'm gonna let it go.
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I have no idea how to summarize why I quit....
We have a couple different timelines. The MC growing up in a family that didn't share anything emotionally while she was suffering chronic pain from endometriosis, so we are learning about what made her who she is. And the current timeline which has some weak SF elements of eye lenses that probably replace our cell phones. At least the parts we use to read information. And her doing her research, observing the monkeys.
There were no quotes used around dialogue which is whatever but definitely not normal and took some getting used to.
At a quarter way through the book I have more of an idea who the MC is, the supporting character is and what is up with the monkeys but I don't want to spend anymore time with them. I started skimming when she started analyzing the TV commentators. It's like a lesson about stuff I'm not interested in. Reading through reviews, I'm fine with letting it go.
Cora quits her waitressing job in Florida and moves to St. Thomas with no goals in mind. Her hearing impairment has given her a special talent for communication. Recognizing this, Blum, a Harvard professor studying dolphins, hires her to oversee their welfare. However, he seems more interested in obtaining funding for his ill-conceived research and experimenting with psychedelic experiences than conducting real science. Blum’s male collaborators have similar shortcomings characterized by excessive alcohol consumption and casual sexism. They see Cora as unqualified because of her lack of formal training in research and, especially her failure to quantify her observations.
The plot involves Cora’s growing appreciation of dolphin behavior. She slowly begins bonding with four captive dolphins. Clearly, this becomes joyous for both Cora and the dolphins. After observing brutal surgeries with little obvious rationale or concern for the dolphins, Cora agrees to a compromise. The scientists will cease the surgeries if she assumes a mothering role for Junior, an adolescent male dolphin. The goal is to teach him to mimic human language. Obviously, Blum sees this plan as his ticket to fame and fortune. Cora and Junior are thus isolated together in a makeshift structure referred to as a “homearium.”
Schulman’s rambling narrative details the playful and mutual relationship that Cora develops with the dolphins, especially with Junior. Along the way, Schulman imparts some fascinating information about dolphin behaviors, like mating, sleeping, communicating, and even breathing. However, the most touching scenes come from the dolphins’ more human-like behaviors. The alpha male dies from something like “suicide” by deciding to just stop breathing. Junior has the need to suck on Cora’s toe before he can fall asleep. After Cora convinces Blum to free two females, their joy is wonderful. And especially Junior manipulates Cora into messaging his gums by assuring her that he will not bite by holding his mouth open using a ball. Notwithstanding its many strengths, this story suffers from its unfair characterization of the scientists and their families. They come across as self-involved, inhumane and lacking in the curiosity that is so evident in successful scientists.
I really liked the first part of this book describing Frankie's efforts to gain the bonobos' trust, as well as her observations of their behaviors. In fact, there is a lot of information about factual scientific research regarding bonobos which is very interesting. But then, about half-way through the book, it morphs into a climate change apocalyptic novel. A huge dust storm comes up which destroys all technology. The institute is cut off from the rest of the world (whatever remains of it) and Frankie and her research partner must figure out how to feed the bonobos, and how to survive in a catastrophically changed world. I wasn't expecting this, although perhaps I should have been since the novel won a couple of science fiction literary awards.
3 stars
1 
Alhickey1 | 1 weitere Rezension | Feb 11, 2020 |
Alhickey1 | 1 weitere Rezension | Feb 11, 2020 | This 397-page slightly futuristic novel, followed by a five page research appendix, begins as interesting and gradually become dangerous in that the reader becomes very emotionally invested in its characters and their fates: Dr. Francine (Frankie) Burk recovering from surgery to correct a life-long illness; David Stotts , the caretaker at an animal research facility not far from Kansas City; and 14 bonobo apes.
We get to know all of them quite well. The detailed mating habits of the bonobos initially may be TMI for some readers, but necessary to understanding them. Schulman is quite good (this is her 5th novel) at ratcheting up tension and what little violence does occur is all the more intense due to her skilled manipulation of us readers into investing our humanity into all of the characters.
Whether you are a science nerd, a lover of a well-told story, or a reader who likes to be grabbed by the wet-wear between your ears, this novel is for you.
May Audrey Schulman continue writing books that remind us of our humanity, tug at our heartstrings, illuminate the creatures we cohabitate with on this lone planet, and emphatically state the wonders and appreciation that science can bring into our lives.
First, this book is unique and hard to describe, but I loved every minute of it. Second, I am truly baffled by the cover which bears little relation to the story; book covers that do not properly depict what is inside the book are a huge pet peeve of mine. Theory of Bastards is set in the near future when resources are scarce and technology controls virtually everything. Schulman’s prose is crisp, compelling, and lyrical, and she crafts characters who are complex, thoughtful, and clever. Her depiction of the future is chilling and unforgiving. I do not want to spoil anything about the book by saying much about the plot, but I loved the book and finished it in less than two days. Highly recommended!
This was an unexpected joy of a book. It takes place in a futuristic world, full of human computer implants and driverless cars. The story jumps back and forth from Frankie’s life when she struggles with her pain and present day. I would have given it five stars except for the fact that there were parts of the book that I felt dragged a bit, especially when Frankie first comes to the Foundation to start work with the bonobos. The slow parts are not completely without merit, though, as they include real-life studies of the bonobos that I found to be quite interesting.
The story really picks up when the dust storm hits. I hadn’t realized up until that point how much I had grown to care about each of the bonobos and Frankie. The last quarter of the book was very suspenseful and I clung to every word. There’s quite a lesson on the dangers of a society so dependent on technology.
Ms. Schulman has given us a well-written book with true heart. It’s a very original look at humanity and mankind’s relationship to the animal world. Recommended.
This book was given to me by the publisher in return for an honest review.
I enjoyed both storylines and thought they were exciting and realistic. The author built the suspense to the point where I couldn‘t put the book down. The facts about both the lions and the gorillas was interesting and well researched. I also enjoyed reading of an adult with Aspergers as up to this point most of my reading on that subject has been about children with the syndrome. What kept this book from a solid 4.0 rating was the editing as several spelling and grammar mistakes were obvious. I hate it when errors like this can pull one right out of the story.
Three Weeks in December was a great escape read and I will certainly keep this author in mind when I need another good adventure read.
That was fun!
In the same paragraph is another fragment, this one less egregious because purposeful: "The person's nerves jangling with a morphine-induced intensity."
Mm, I want to like this, so I should step away until I'm in a more forgiving frame of mind: "The plane left tomorrow, the lab equipment was already packed" (39).
The next day: Incidences instead of incidents? Really? (42)
Eh, drat. I had a long rant about how the spelling errors, wrong punctuation, and bad grammar ruined the experience of what could have been a great novel, but through my own stupidity I lost it. So. Instead of recompiling all the page numbers, I'll spare you. Great characters and plots, interesting parallels between the two threads, but technical errors ripped me out of the story with almost physical pain.
I will look up the page of one great simile: "After a day in the jungle, Yoko's hair was standing straight up, a little like a cockatiel's feathers" (221). It is only the crest feathers on a cockatiel that can stand erect and the rest of its feathers have no more erectile power than those of any other bird, but the cockatiel is so neglected in literature that I'll allow the broader statement.
Another recommendation from LibraryThing. I had misgivings: I'm not typically a fan of novels set in Africa; I'm not typically a fan of gorillas. Three Weeks in December has changed all that! Narrated in two discrete stories over a century apart, this novel won me over with its two main characters: late 19th century Jeremy, an engineer hired to oversee the construction of a bridge and 21st century Max, a female ethnobotanist hired by a pharmaceutical company to source a potentially lifesaving drug from a vine growing in Rwanda. Jeremy and Max are--for different reasons--loners; they try to assimilate into their respective cultures, English and American, and are for the most part unsuccessful. These two characters hooked me; I had to know how they would adapt in Africa. Would they achieve their goals? Would they be happy? Schulman sheathes the plot with suspense--imagine sitting in a tree all night waiting for the human-eating lions to show up or having to flee a 400 pound silverback gorilla because you looked him in the eye--drawing on efficient yet evocative description. Like Jeremy and Max, the reader is a complete outsider forced to adapt to the land, people and animals.
8 out of 10 Highly recommended to all!
Told in parallel storylines both set in remote Africa, Three Weeks in December chronicles the stories of Jeremy, a young railway engineer sent to oversee the construction of an East African railroad, which has been plagued by malaria and lion attacks, and Max, an American ethnobotanist who is seeking the vine that could make a lifesaving pharmaceutical.
Max, the ethnobotanist with Asperger’s who treks across the world to find a life-saving drug, is by far the more interesting lead character; her literal understanding of the world, her fear of human contact, and her unexpected companionship with the gorillas is captivating and touching. Jeremy is too human – well-intentioned but weak, and plagued by a secret which is somewhat overblown. The key point is that he is powerless to defend his workers, and that his character deteriorates as he suffers the frustration of impotence.
The link between the stories is tenuous and irrelevant and revealed late in the piece, but that doesn’t really matter. Mirroring my reception of the characters, I found Jeremy’s storyline unsubtle, a bit dull and doomed to fail (although this is not intended to be entirely negative – a tragic plot is not invalid), while I wanted more and more of Max’s tale. The writing is deft and elegant without being elaborate; Schulman displays real skill in crafting Max so well.
Advocacy fiction can be a tricky business: it's easy for passion to slip into sermon or harangue, obscuring the identity of the work as a story. When that happens, I would argue that it might as well be an essay rather than fiction. Audrey Schulman's latest novel, Three Weeks in December, tackles the genre of advocacy fiction twice, alternating chapters of two stories on the theme of Euro-American involvement with Africa. Happily for the reader, she stays on the safe side of the line between fiction and essay.
In the first story, Schulman fictionalizes the actual events of the Tsavo Maneaters, a pair of lions who killed as many as 135 workers from the construction crews of a British railroad project on the Tsavo River in Kenya in 1898. Schulman substitutes her character, Jeremy Turnkey, in the place of the real John Patterson, the lead engineer of the effort and the man who eventually managed to shoot the two predators. At home in England, Jeremy was always vaguely uncomfortable, largely due to homosexual inclinations that he wouldn't fully admit even to himself and which made him an object of unease or amusement in nineteenth century society. On the Tsavo, where there is only one other Westerner amidst thousands of imported coolies and hundreds of natives, the pressures of society largely disappear, leaving Jeremy to confront his feelings.
Set 101 years later is the story of Max Tombay, an ethnobotanist who has Asperger's Syndrome. She inhabits a world where she is assaulted by physical stimuli, and to alleviate this she eats bland, colorless food to minimize taste; wears gray clothes to avoid color; and, most importantly, eschews physical contact whenever she can. It's also a world where social stimuli have no meaning: she memorizes muscle patterns to understand facial expressions and performs limited social niceties simply by rote. Max is commissioned by a pharmaceutical company to find the origin of a vine sample containing huge natural levels of beta blockers. All she knows is that it grows in the upper reaches of the Rwandan mountains, the home of the vanishing mountain gorilla.
The two stories tie together in the last pages of the book in a simple, but largely irrelevant, manner; their real purpose is to serve as mirrors for each other. The stories contrast in the effects upon the two protagonists of escaping from a society in which they did not fit. Max finds contentment among creatures who minimize touch, who don't look at each other's faces, and who spend long hours in quiet, concentrated activity. Jeremy, however, weakens: he begins to obsess about his appetites and finds that he is unable to be effective in an environment where the rules that guide decision-making are quite different. The novel is an interesting deliberation upon whether society helps us or hurts us.
It is the similarities between the stories' themes, however, that draw the most attention. Both protagonists come to understand the dual nature of civilization's presence. Jeremy recognizes that colonialism brings medicine and education, but also exploitation and destruction of native culture. Max knows that drugs created from the vine can save countless lives but that human encroachment into the mountains will destroy the gorilla's habitat and eventually cause their extinction. As we follow the journey of each from enthusiasm to reluctance, it becomes fairly apparent where Schulman's sympathies lie…at least to some degree.
She walks a fairly fine line in Jeremy's story. Despite the inherent excitement of the lions, I found his character and personal struggle not completely absorbing and, so, less able to balance Shulman's discourse on cultural imperialism. Fortunately, despite occupying half the pages, Jeremy was not half of the book for me. He was, largely, a foil for Max.
Because, make no mistake about it, this is Max's story. Instead of a character who, when we first meet her, might bode to be the less interesting, Schulman has given us someone richly rounded. Max reaches out of the pages and pulls the reader into her world and her thoughts, and we return to each of her chapters with excitement. As a result, the homilies Schulman wishes to deliver — though no less overt — balance and enrich a beautiful story.
The author managed to write two completely different tales and then connect them in subtle ways, over a brief period in December, in 1899, and in December of 2000. However, there were times when the story faltered, lacked believability. Could Max have accomplished all she did physically with a dislocated shoulder? Would Jeremy have really been able to hunt the lions when he was so sick with malaria? Would the pharmaceutical company have abandoned its researchers? Also, although the ending took me totally by surprise, I thought it was the least effective part of the book, and a bit of a disappointment. It required a total suspension of disbelief. Perhaps it was the only way the book could credibly end for the way the tale was told, but I had hoped for more. For the most part, though, the story was riveting.
The book introduced many controversial topics which the reader will have to explore and digest. The characters are wonderfully developed and real. You can envision them as flesh and blood as you read.
The first tale begins in December of 1899, and except for brief paragraphs relating to Jeremy’s past, growing up in Maine, it takes place largely, in the country now called Kenya, the place of birth of President Obama's family. It is interesting to learn about the life some of his ancestors may have led and the hardships they faced, so different from those in America.
Jeremy is an engineer, a man who builds functional, utilitarian bridges, but he is a man who does not fit in with his brethren. He is different and he is lonely. He needs a change, an opportunity. When offered, he takes a job in British East Africa to escape his past and to build a railroad. He hopes to be successful and then to purchase a plot of land and follow in the footsteps of his ‘grandpapi’, creating something from nothing, with hard work and dedication. He prides himself on his work ethic and his attention to detail and to the safety of the men who work for him.
The second tale begins in Maine, in 2000. Two pharmaceutical executives come to see Dr. Max Tombay, an ethnobotonist, to offer her a job in Africa, to try and find a plant that might have the power to cure heart disease; she happily accepts. Her future had been looming as one in which she would be researching fragrances, and that held no interest for her. She, too, needs a change, an opportunity. She is different and she is lonely. She does not fit in with her contemporaries. Plants are easier to interact with than people.
In some ways, the story of Max is more complete than the story of Jeremy, but in the end, it all blends and meshes seamlessly. Even though the chapters alternate with each story, they could each have stood alone. Putting them together allows the reader to compare and contrast the similarities and differences between the two individuals who are both in Africa for similar, yet widely diverse reasons. Both, however, wish to escape the pain of their personality and their past. Reading the chapters alternately, illustrates how their lives collide with each other, connect and intersect, although separated by 100 years. Both characters arrive in Africa totally unprepared for what awaits them, but both are eager to begin their work.
Both characters are resented by their fellow workers in Africa. He is resented by the tribes who do not want their way of life destroyed by the construction of the railroad; she is resented by the other researchers who do not want her interfering or threatening and disturbing the safety and way of life for the gorillas. Still, they are both more comfortable in Africa. Both characters are able to control their emotions and maintain their outlook through their thoughts and memories. Although Jeremy is the only white man, his difference in other ways goes unnoticed. Max is the only one with autism, but her difference enables her to do her research thoroughly. She earns the respect of the others. Jeremy feels safer in Africa with the natives because they don’t stare; Max feels safer with the gorillas because they exhibit signs of Aspergers and they don’t stare. Their unreal expectations for the real world they have entered and the results of their actions, are thoroughly examined by the author with clarity, and there is an ever present tension and excitement which keeps you turning pages.
When finished, you may ask yourself why either of them went to Africa, when it was dangerous, even in 2000? Max went because she wanted to do useful research, find a cure for heart disease, to earn respect and perhaps be accepted and embraced as respectable. Jeremy went to get away from the inevitability of staring eyes. Both were trying to escape their differences and both left without concern for their own safety, so desperate were they for change and a chance to start anew. Both main characters wanted to make the world a better place. He wanted to build a better bridge, in a safer way for the workers; she wanted to save lives and find a cure for heart disease. Both preferred solitude and pursued thorough investigation to accomplish their goals.
You may further ask yourself, has there been any real progress in Africa? Has the country been tamed, civilized? Has the effort of other countries injured or aided its development, its natives? Did the railroad help build Africa into a thriving nation? Have the natives stopped attacking each other, cannibalizing each other, selling each other? Can Africa ever be thoroughly explored?
Although the stories are separated by 100 years, they both have surprisingly similar concerns to face: natives, wild animals, survival. This is a great book for a book club discussion.
In 1899, Jeremy Turnkey travels to British East Africa as an engineer in charge of helping to build a railroad. He knows himself to be different in a time when being different is not accepted and is a partial outcast from his family and "polite" society. Faced with the dizzying task of overseeing Indian workers in a hostile African environment, he has enough on his plate already. When two lions begin killing the men in his camp and people in surrounding villages in the dead of night, he now has the unenviable task of trying to hunt and kill them in a malaria-induced haze. With the help of Otombe, an African raised by missionaries until he was six, when they had their own child and returned him to his village, Jeremy attempts to prove himself.
In 2006, Max Tombay, an ethnobotanist, travels to Rwanda in search of an unknown vine that contains five times the beta blockers of any other known plant. She joins a group of scientists and animal behaviorists in the mountains on her quest to find the vine, shadowing a group of gorillas in the hope that they will lead her to the plant. As she observes them, she notices similarities between her Asperger's Syndrome and their behavior, giving her a particular affinity and insight with the gorilla family. What her employers DIDN'T tell her is that there is a roaming band of thousands of Kutu (child soldiers) right over the border killing both natives and foreigners. As the group of scientists becomes increasingly isolated, conserving electricity and with their food stores diminishing significantly, Max faces her own moral dilemma.
On the surface, these two narratives have nothing in common except their locations in Africa, however, the deeper meaning of these stories has a lot to do with true coming of age and the deeper realization of inner strength that each of the main characters finds within. The thread of lurking danger that is woven into each narrative makes for a nail-biter, especially with Max's story.
Gorgeously written and evocative, Three Weeks in December is a feast for the senses. If you like literary adventure, this is definitely one for your shelves.
QUOTES (from an ARC; may be different in final copy):
When people met Max, she passed as normal, at least at first. More than passed. In Maine, she was exotic. Men's heads tended to track her on the street, until at times she worried she might be dressed or moving inappropriately. Even women refocused as she walked by, their bodies going still.
Of course once the men or women actualy interacted with her, talked with her, their reaction changed. The flatness of her voice, the way she didn't look at them. The subtle social signals she missed. After a while the men stopped leaning in as close, their voices got less warm and confiding. It gook differing amounts of time. depending on how much each had hoped. The women caught on more quickly. Their words would drag a bit as they puzzled it out. Then they'd spot the final clue. There'd be this pause. A silent adjustment.
The overriding thought was that this was his fault, each fever here, each missing limb, any deaths. He was the one responsible - as much as if he had injected each infection of malaria or started each cut - him and the British, this railroad.
"My tribe," Otombe said, "has a myth of a giant metal snake. Like the story of how the world started, it is one of common knowledge shared among the tribes. It is said, in a time of hunger, drought and disease, the metal snake will arrive. It will stretch itself across the land to strangle the life from our tribes."
Max imagined returning with the vine she searched for. It would be a blockbuster drug, saving the lives of thousands of people. The vine's discovery would allow her mom to talk to her sister in something other than that small voice.
It would help make up for how Max had sat rocking in a corner while her dad's brain - a major vein to it blocked off - suffocated and then died.
Writing: 5 out of 5 stars
Plot: 4.5 out of 5 stars
Characters: 4 out of 5 stars
Reading Immersion: 4.5 out 5 stars
BOOK RATING: 4.5 out of 5 stars
Jeremy is apparently the only American working for the British in the construction of a railroad and he knows little of the customs, languages or habits of the indigenous population or the hired workers. Jeremy was also considered an outsider in his family back in Maine because of his sexual orientation (to be a single, relatively healthy man with no apparent inclination toward women was highly suspect). As a result Jeremy felt it best to leave his family and home. He intends to become a white settler in British East African after he completes his engineering tasks. However, this task is imperiled by two rogue lions that have boldly attacked men in the work camp. As the boss in the camp, Jeremy must hunt these lions and protect his workers. Over the course of several weeks, Jeremy launches his nightly vigils in an effort to kill the lions. His only companion is his African guide, Otombe. As Jeremy and Otombe sit and await the lions, Jeremy finds himself drawn to Otombe, an attraction he knows he can never act upon.
Max Tombay is a postdoctoral ethnobotanist. She knows that jobs will be difficult to come by, especially with her Asperger's Syndrome. But a great opportunity is literally handed to her when she is asked by a pharmaceutical company to travel to Rwanda and locate a vine that could become a lifesaving drug. Max knows that her Asperger's and single-minded focus is as asset in this area so she accepts. Max's mother isn't very happy with her daughter traveling to a war-torn region, but she can't stop her. In short order Max travels to Rwanda with an ample supply of grey clothes, oatmeal and tofu. Just as Jeremy had difficulty assimilating to British East Africa, so does Max, but she is determined to make it work. She learns through trial and error and grudgingly gets along with the other researchers in the mountain-based research station. What Max finds amazing is that she gets along and understands the apes much better than she does her fellow researchers. Unfortunately all is not what it seems in Rwanda and Max and her fellow researchers must deal with the high possibility of an attack by rogue rebels.
All of the action presented in both Max and Jeremy's stories cover the same three weeks in December, albeit separated by 100 years. It isn't clear how their stories are linked until the very end. Ms. Schulman has provided two stories that could have stood alone but together seem to mirror one another in the difficulties both Max and Jeremy are facing. The historical information provided is quite detailed enough to provide a realistic starting point for both stories. The graphic details of the African landscape are such that it is almost possible to close your eyes and visualize the scene. The description of the apes is also quite realistic and they become additional characters in Max's story. I found myself rooting for Max and Jeremy, as well as the apes, in their struggles to survive. THREE WEEKS IN DECEMBER is an emotional read that provides for a little suspense and adventure. This is a beautifully written story that drew me in from the very beginning and held my attention to the very end.
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