This is a literary book, and Irving doesn’t let you forget it. As if the foreshadowing and the motifs were not enough, the main character studies Harvey and becomes an English teacher, giving plenty of opportunity to give small lectures on other literary devices. It is also a book about writing; what its role can be, what authors should consider and how difficult it can be. Faith is another topic, as various characters wrestle with, or a defined by, their faith: faith in God and faith in others. And it’s a book about the past, and how it shapes the present.
The story, when you look back on it, is simple enough. Two boys grow up together in a small New England town, and become men at the time of the Vietnam war. Although the story is told twenty years after the last events, to the narrator nothing much ever happened after then. The way the story is told, you can almost believe him. The two boys, their families and the neighbours all have the vivid, slightly unreal characteristics of childhood memories, and Irving makes every day occurrences have the same weight as childood puts on them. Or perhaps, as the narrator believes, perhaps this truly is an extraordinary childhood, spent with an extraordinary friend.
Throughout the book, especially as the children grow, are comments on America – its role, its characteristics, what it should and could be. I especially liked the comparison to Marilyn Munroe: “SHE WAS JUST LIKE OUR WHOLE COUNTRY — NOT QUITE YOUNG ANYMORE, BUT NOT OLD EITHER; A LITTLE BREATHLESS, VERY BEAUTIFUL, MAYBE A LITTLE STUPID, LOOKING FOR SOMETHING — I THINK SHE WANTED TO BE GOOD.” The all caps are because Owen, the narrator’s best friend, has an unusual voice, shown in the book through the unusual type.
After the events in the novel, the narrator moves to Canada, where he cannot stop thinking about America – especially American politics – and never really fits in in his new country. It’s an interesting twist, but I’m not really sure why this was done. I suppose it strikes me because I am moving to a new country and I could see how you could end up always looking back, seeing the past as more real than the present in a country that isn’t your own – even though the narrator takes out citizenship. Sometimes things that aren’t in your home country don’t really count – to make that step, to believe that your new world is as vital as your old one – is tantamount to saying that you’ll probably never go back. I suppose its the difference between seeing your new community as permanent, people with whom you want to build a long term trust, or temporary if even after years you don’t care deep down what others think.
Some interesting literary criticism on the Messiah motif can be found here.
