Download PDF Broke Heart Blues: A Novel (Signed First Edition), by Joyce Carol Oates
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Broke Heart Blues: A Novel (Signed First Edition), by Joyce Carol Oates
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- Published on: 1999
- Binding: Hardcover
Most helpful customer reviews
2 of 2 people found the following review helpful.
A great writer with great technique wasted on this story
By A Customer
JCO is a phenomenal writer and I look forward to her books. I suppose that is why I was so disappointed in this book. I usually can not put her books down and yet I had to struggle to finish this without intermittent napping. The story line is cloying and not particularly believable. The writing style is great JCO stuff, but somehow it was not enough to make this stimulating. I see the larger themes she wants to touch upon, but boy is it a stretch here. Who are these characters and why do I fail to care? True enough many people are damaged by adolescent experiences (real and imagined) but this story just doesn't click. I found it repetitive and dull. Great effort, but also, for me, great disappointment. JCO writes so well that you just come to expect great things. I'll shelve this error and wait for another great success(like, We were the Mulvaney's)
1 of 1 people found the following review helpful.
A waste of time......
By A Customer
This book was a major disappointment. I could not wade through anymore of the tedious drivel after about 1/3 of the way into the book so I gave up. It could have been a great story if not for all the unnecessary and boring details about TOO MANY characters.
0 of 0 people found the following review helpful.
"...what was remembered as true."
By Cameron C. Stevens
"After thirty years, maybe it didn't matter what was true or not, only what was remembered as true."
As the book begins, we hear Willowsville students talking about John Reddy Heart, the mysterious young man who moves to their affluent town, and becomes famous when he is accused of the murder of his mother's lover. John Reddy is the prodigal son, John Reddy is the change from the norm, the abstraction of identity. For as the first part progresses, (for a little too long), we hear nothing from John Reddy, and the stories seems to surpass rumor, and are treated with the reverence of legend.
Joyce Carol Oates, with a tongue-in-cheek rendering similar to MIDDLE AGE, similar to many of her upper-class settings, skewers these privileged youth, and makes them emptier and emptier as everything goes along. John Reddy, in their collective mind, appears as a god, omnipresent, and serves the purpose of meaning and as a godly aspect of the glory of youth for everyone. I imagine the looks in their eyes as they talk about him (almost as if being interviewed for a documentary) the same as a fellow I used to work with, let's call him Trevor.
Trevor was a child of privilege, not the kind who is humble, and not the kind you could respect. He only worked part-time and was taking a couple of classes. A very light load of responsibility. Everything was paid for. He couldn't handle the pressure, quit work and school for two months, and was hired a life coach and personal daily yoga instructor by his father. When Trevor finally returned to work, he had also taken one of his biannual trips to New Orleans, or as he insisted it had to be called, "NAWlinz." The light in his eyes, and the joy he would feel when talking about "NAWlinz" was his best quality. . .until we found out, from a new hire who had lived there, that everything he said about it was over-exagerated, and could not have possibly transpired in the way he would describe it. Yet he believed it, truly, and loved that he could have an experience so far away from the ove-planned, sterile, and comfortable life he led in NYC.
The light in Trevor's eyes is the same as the privileged of Willowsville, and I resented them and was annoyed by how much they were unhappy with themselves, and by how much they romanticized this John Reddy who, as the first part concluded, it was revealed he had hardly interactions with any of them at all. They created him as much as they needed to to fill the emptiness of their vapid lives, and envied the casual and profound way he lived his life..
There was such a huge contrast from the first part to the second part, when John Reddy's true life is revealed, as exactly what we might have imagined, and so different than anything any of his classmates would have dreamed. We learn more of John Reddy, of his mother Dahlia. We get a chance to travel along with the logic of the characters, as different and still rational as only Joyce Carol Oates can make them. Profound and unusual. When Dahlia tells us that "none of us ask to be born, Johnny. It's smart-asses like you who rub it in," we start to feel the futility of a woman like Dahlia, always having to make herself up, always having to search and plan and use her wiles to get anything in life, the trap that some women fall into. She says, "If Americans don't think something is worth paying money for, they won't think it's worth a moment's glance. And maybe it isn't." You could apply that to her herself, for she needed to be a commodity, goods her whole life.
We learn more about his siblings, and his grandfather, a wanderer transformed from a bum in the eyes of Willowsville, to an enigmatic and visionary artist. In fact, in a statement by the caretaker of his grandfather's art, we learn a critical difference in perception, and realize even moreso, the critical fault of the Willowsville residents. "It's the idea of what it is, it IS. Not what it's made of." These ideas lead the characters to their many truths and deceptions about John Reddy and his family, and leave it to him to see a section his grandfather's art as, not an encircling set of wings, or a crown, but "a broken piece of ceramic." John Reddy is nothing like he is described, or perhaps so much more, for he simply IS.
The book concludes with the thirty-year reunion of John Reddy's classmates, once again waiting and hoping that John will arrive, make an appearance. "He can't just stay away forever, can he? Don't we mean anything to him at all?" These people, despite all outward appearances, the men slackened and jowled, the women operated upon and still beautiful, have not changed. They float from house to house, party to party, involved in a desperate recapturing of glories, orgies and feasts. A roast pig is devoured like a hive of ants, like John Reddy was devoured in their imaginations. We see those forever stuck in high school, those whose personalities and destinies peaked then, and how they will remain those people forever, incapable of wisdom or change
Listen toElise Petko, Trish Elders, Dwayne; listen to Petey who is described as present, absent, dead, alive, all simultaneously. "You're the only people on earth who know me as I am, not as I appear."
I was manipulated to hate these people, because I didn't like them in high school, and honestly, because, even if I wanted to attend a reunion, I was told I would be gay bashed if I did attend. And yet, somehow, when I remember the person I loved the most in high school, the person there was no hope to ever be with, the person who was mysterious, and did my best friend an amazing kindness, I suddenly felt for these Willowsville residents. For at the end, they end up in an idyllic state, paired up with the person of their dreams, their sweethearts imagined or otherwise, and fulfilling the destiny of who we thought we were and would always be. The person that we have always been and can never be otherwise. For "After high school in America, everything's posthumous."
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