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Mudwoman
A riveting novel that explores the high price of success in the life of one woman—the first female president of a lauded ivy league institution—and her hold upon her self-identity in the face of personal and professional demons, from Joyce Carol Oates, author of the New York Times bestseller A Widow’s Story
Mudgirl is a child abandoned by her mother in the silty flats of the Black Snake River. Cast aside, Mudgirl survives by an accident of fate—or destiny. After her rescue, the well-meaning couple who adopt Mudgirl quarantine her poisonous history behind the barrier of their middle-class values, seemingly sealing it off forever. But the bulwark of the present proves surprisingly vulnerable to the agents of the past.
Meredith “M.R.” Neukirchen is the first woman president of an Ivy League university. Her commitment to her career and moral fervor for her role are all-consuming. Involved with a secret lover whose feelings for her are teasingly undefined, and concerned with the intensifying crisis of the American political climate as the United States edges toward war with Iraq, M.R. is confronted with challenges to her leadership that test her in ways she could not have anticipated. The fierce idealism and intelligence that delivered her from a more conventional life in her upstate New York hometown now threaten to undo her.
A reckless trip upstate thrusts M.R. Neukirchen into an unexpected psychic collision with Mudgirl and the life M.R. believes she has left behind. A powerful exploration of the enduring claims of the past, Mudwoman is at once a psychic ghost story and an intimate portrait of a woman cracking the glass ceiling at enormous personal cost, which explores the tension between childhood and adulthood, the real and the imagined, and the “public” and “private” in the life of a highly complex contemporary woman.
Mudgirl is a child abandoned by her mother in the silty flats of the Black Snake River. Cast aside, Mudgirl survives by an accident of fate—or destiny. After her rescue, the well-meaning couple who adopt Mudgirl quarantine her poisonous history behind the barrier of their middle-class values, seemingly sealing it off forever. But the bulwark of the present proves surprisingly vulnerable to the agents of the past.
Meredith “M.R.” Neukirchen is the first woman president of an Ivy League university. Her commitment to her career and moral fervor for her role are all-consuming. Involved with a secret lover whose feelings for her are teasingly undefined, and concerned with the intensifying crisis of the American political climate as the United States edges toward war with Iraq, M.R. is confronted with challenges to her leadership that test her in ways she could not have anticipated. The fierce idealism and intelligence that delivered her from a more conventional life in her upstate New York hometown now threaten to undo her.
A reckless trip upstate thrusts M.R. Neukirchen into an unexpected psychic collision with Mudgirl and the life M.R. believes she has left behind. A powerful exploration of the enduring claims of the past, Mudwoman is at once a psychic ghost story and an intimate portrait of a woman cracking the glass ceiling at enormous personal cost, which explores the tension between childhood and adulthood, the real and the imagined, and the “public” and “private” in the life of a highly complex contemporary woman.
428 pages, Hardcover
First published January 1, 2012
342 people are currently reading
3413 people want to read
About the author
Joyce Carol Oates
854 books9,624 followersJoyce Carol Oates is an American writer. Oates published her first book in 1963, and has since published 58 novels, a number of plays and novellas, and many volumes of short stories, poetry, and nonfiction. Her novels Black Water (1992), What I Lived For (1994), and Blonde (2000), and her short story collections The Wheel of Love (1970) and Lovely, Dark, Deep: Stories (2014) were each finalists for the Pulitzer Prize. She has won many awards for her writing, including the National Book Award, for her novel Them (1969), two O. Henry Awards, the National Humanities Medal, and the Jerusalem Prize (2019).
Oates taught at Princeton University from 1978 to 2014, and is the Roger S. Berlind '52 Professor Emerita in the Humanities with the Program in Creative Writing. From 2016 to 2020, she was a visiting professor at the University of California, Berkeley, where she taught short fiction in the spring semesters. She now teaches at Rutgers University, New Brunswick.
Oates was elected to the American Philosophical Society in 2016.
Pseudonyms: Rosamond Smith and Lauren Kelly.
Oates taught at Princeton University from 1978 to 2014, and is the Roger S. Berlind '52 Professor Emerita in the Humanities with the Program in Creative Writing. From 2016 to 2020, she was a visiting professor at the University of California, Berkeley, where she taught short fiction in the spring semesters. She now teaches at Rutgers University, New Brunswick.
Oates was elected to the American Philosophical Society in 2016.
Pseudonyms: Rosamond Smith and Lauren Kelly.
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 612 reviews
May 12, 2012
I felt like I'd been reading this book for hours when I first wanted to give up on it. I told myself to give it fifty pages and got past seventy, but it was hard going. Every. Single. Sentence. is overwritten. I felt like the author wanted to say after each paragraph, "Did you see how poetic my prose was? Huh? Huh? Did ya? Did you see how chock full of meaning it all is? Huh? Which is a pity, because I felt that the story itself was going somewhere. But the writing stopped me caring about where that was.
March 18, 2022
Una de sus novelas más perturbadoras e inquietantes, quizás incluso más que otras suyas. El personaje de M.R/Meredith (otro personaje dual, con dos caras) tiene unos traumas que afloran de vez en cuando y realmente no sabes, qué es real o imaginación dentro de su cabeza. Y también está la
condescendencia masculina que tan bien sabe describir JCO, y más teniendo en cuenta en el mundo universitario hipermasculino en el que se desenvuelve Meredith: una condescendencia con la que tiene enfrentarse "diplomáticamente" y a diario la protagonista. Una de mis novelas favoritas suyas.
condescendencia masculina que tan bien sabe describir JCO, y más teniendo en cuenta en el mundo universitario hipermasculino en el que se desenvuelve Meredith: una condescendencia con la que tiene enfrentarse "diplomáticamente" y a diario la protagonista. Una de mis novelas favoritas suyas.
April 5, 2012
This is an engrossing but unsettling psychological tale about an accomplished academic who begins to unravel after long-repressed memories from early childhood engulf her. Oates blends gothic horror with behind the scenes politics in the rarified world of an ivy league university. That she can so effectively convey this world, and a depiction of life in a sleepy city in upstate NY, is not surprising given her storytelling gifts. What makes this so compelling is that you aren't sure if what you are reading is actually happening in the story or is a product of the protagonist's increasingly deranged imagination. This gives Oates ample opportunity to terrorize in the manner of Edgar Allen Poe as she gruesomely concocts her character's increasingly bizarre dreams and hallucinations. It is a harrowing tale of a brilliant woman's collapse and the possibility for redemption after she embraces the many forces which have shaped her. By confronting both the horrifying as well as the edifying aspects of her childhood, she is finally able to envision a more balanced and satisfying life for herself. In another nod to Poe, the ending is ambiguous.
November 5, 2024
2,5*
Lutei com este livro até ao final. Custa-me dar-lhe uma má classificação, mas não foi, de facto, uma leitura satisfatória. Não consegui sentir algo pela personagem principal (nem empatia, nem raiva, coisa nenhuma). Os episódios de alucinações ou sonhos são demasiado confusos, não existindo uma fronteira que nos permita distingui-los da realidade. Encontrei demasiadas lacunas. O conflito não tem solução, o final é forçado.
Desculpem-me os que gostaram, mas não fez sentido para mim.
Lutei com este livro até ao final. Custa-me dar-lhe uma má classificação, mas não foi, de facto, uma leitura satisfatória. Não consegui sentir algo pela personagem principal (nem empatia, nem raiva, coisa nenhuma). Os episódios de alucinações ou sonhos são demasiado confusos, não existindo uma fronteira que nos permita distingui-los da realidade. Encontrei demasiadas lacunas. O conflito não tem solução, o final é forçado.
Desculpem-me os que gostaram, mas não fez sentido para mim.
September 11, 2021
“Credevi di poter scappare in eterno?
Credevi di poter fuggire da tutto questo per sempre?”
Meredith Ruth Neukirchen, detta M.R., è una filosofa molto apprezzata nell'ambiente accademico. Può vantarsi, inoltre, di essere anche la prima donna rettore di un’università della Ivy League.
Una vita costruita attorno ad una carriera:
ambizioni soddisfatte e ben retribuite.
Un giorno, tuttavia, qualcosa inizia a scricchiolare.
All'inizio non sono visibili ma cominciano a formarsi piccole crepe, destinate ad allargarsi, si fanno spazio nella sua esistenza.
E' la bambina di fango che vuole riemergere ed inizia così un'estenuante battaglia per M.R.: la donna di fango
Oates anche qui prende spunto dalla vasta cronaca nera nordamericana per costruire un thriller psicologico che gioca con delle metafore e spazia tra un erudito ambiente accademico e un segreto cassetto della mente dove si ripongono i ricordi più dolorosi.
Credevi di poter fuggire da tutto questo per sempre?”
Meredith Ruth Neukirchen, detta M.R., è una filosofa molto apprezzata nell'ambiente accademico. Può vantarsi, inoltre, di essere anche la prima donna rettore di un’università della Ivy League.
Una vita costruita attorno ad una carriera:
ambizioni soddisfatte e ben retribuite.
Un giorno, tuttavia, qualcosa inizia a scricchiolare.
All'inizio non sono visibili ma cominciano a formarsi piccole crepe, destinate ad allargarsi, si fanno spazio nella sua esistenza.
E' la bambina di fango che vuole riemergere ed inizia così un'estenuante battaglia per M.R.: la donna di fango
Oates anche qui prende spunto dalla vasta cronaca nera nordamericana per costruire un thriller psicologico che gioca con delle metafore e spazia tra un erudito ambiente accademico e un segreto cassetto della mente dove si ripongono i ricordi più dolorosi.
April 2, 2012
I got a hold of a rare edition advanced release read. So time to dig in.
***finished***
This novel is darkly disturbing and I love it. As with many Oates novels, it begins slowly and creeps along until you feel as if you are experiencing M.R.'s life. I am in awe of the writer that can make me feel what the character is feeling. After I finished Mudwoman, I felt anxious and just thought 'whoa'. I know other people have said that it 'goes nowhere'. I suppose if one's goal in reading literature is to have clean endings and feel they've learned some moral lessons then I can certainly say this isn't your novel. For the reader's that embrace the chaos at the heart of most people, I believe this novel will make sense to them.
Admittedly it was hard to stomach the 'mudgirl's' beginnings. Oates described every moment in such detail that I could taste the foul mud. There is no doubt that Oates is a gifted writer, always has been. Reading about M.R.'s climb to success and the descent into the madness when the past and present collide is a scary ride but one well worth taking.
More than anything, I always enjoy her poetry of writing. Not your silly sweet rhyming poetry, but the sentences that stick like glue to your brain, the sentences that haunt you long after the novel is finished and on the bookcase. I would not recommend this to light readers, because it's heavy and dark. I will recommend it to the reader that wants to consume their literature.
***finished***
This novel is darkly disturbing and I love it. As with many Oates novels, it begins slowly and creeps along until you feel as if you are experiencing M.R.'s life. I am in awe of the writer that can make me feel what the character is feeling. After I finished Mudwoman, I felt anxious and just thought 'whoa'. I know other people have said that it 'goes nowhere'. I suppose if one's goal in reading literature is to have clean endings and feel they've learned some moral lessons then I can certainly say this isn't your novel. For the reader's that embrace the chaos at the heart of most people, I believe this novel will make sense to them.
Admittedly it was hard to stomach the 'mudgirl's' beginnings. Oates described every moment in such detail that I could taste the foul mud. There is no doubt that Oates is a gifted writer, always has been. Reading about M.R.'s climb to success and the descent into the madness when the past and present collide is a scary ride but one well worth taking.
More than anything, I always enjoy her poetry of writing. Not your silly sweet rhyming poetry, but the sentences that stick like glue to your brain, the sentences that haunt you long after the novel is finished and on the bookcase. I would not recommend this to light readers, because it's heavy and dark. I will recommend it to the reader that wants to consume their literature.
August 19, 2019
Had been curious about this author for quite a long time.
Now, after finally having read one of her books, can finally understand what has drawn countless people to her writings for so long. Amazing.
She has an incredible flow to her writing.
It is such a smooth journey that you feel like you’re there.
This story had me thinking it was going one direction and then it abruptly would go another one, several times over.
Fantastic story, memorable characters that come alive from the moment you open the book.
Another incredible author I can say I highly recommend.
Now, after finally having read one of her books, can finally understand what has drawn countless people to her writings for so long. Amazing.
She has an incredible flow to her writing.
It is such a smooth journey that you feel like you’re there.
This story had me thinking it was going one direction and then it abruptly would go another one, several times over.
Fantastic story, memorable characters that come alive from the moment you open the book.
Another incredible author I can say I highly recommend.
June 2, 2021
“The challenge is to resist circumstances. Any idiot can be happy in a happy place, but moral courage is required to be happy in a hellhole.”
July 18, 2012
I intentionally waited several weeks to attempt to review JCO's Mudwoman: it left me with a really empty feeling inside, realizing that one of my favorite brood-meisters has quite possibly reached the end of her career, and I so hoped I could show it some Goodreads love and let it percolate its way into a 5-star rating. Um...nope...the 3.11 cume (so far) doesn't lie: it's a creaky mess. And all the more saddening if you realize it was written after her husband of 45+ years passed away, and seems to be her most (if not autobiographical) personal novel to date.
She relates a bizarre, at times far-fetched tale of M.R. Neukirchen, a 40s-ish president of an unnamed Ivy League school (very thinly disgused as Princeton University, where Ms. Oates has resided for decades) who we learn in dream-like flashbacks that her birthmother abandoned her and her baby sister in the mucky bulrushes somewhere in rural upstate New York. The narrative reverts back and forth from her traumatic early years to present day, where we learn, in her duties in leading a university Ms. Neukirchen was horribly traumatized by her upbringing, but strives valiently not to let her gristly past belie her professional facade of pefect decorum and grace under pressure.
It's tough to buy the premise, but if you can look past the implausibilities (and I did), Ms. Oates presents a very engrossing portrait of a woman simultaneously at the top of her game, and at the precipice of meltdown. Where Ms. Oates goes horribly astray (and in the process, practically killing the narrative flow) is when she intersperses poorly-segued dream sequences throughout the novel. It's difficult to fully understand (even with an alternate font) when it's dreamtime craziness, or wakeful insanity Ms. Oates is trying to convey. (Two of the dream sequences in particular, and you'll recognize them immediately when you get to them, are so incredibly bizarre and non-sequitur that i began to question JCO's sanity...they're that strange...EVEN with a career that boasts, among other sordidness, a first person Jeffrey Dahmer-like diary, these dream sequences just, to me, indicate there's a screw loose upstairs, that maybe it's time for her to put away the pen. But I hope I'm wrong.)
November 17, 2012
I really want to write a good review of this book. I really do. But, I just can't. This was my first Joyce Carol Oates attempt and I was initially enthralled with the book's premise: the story of a now successful woman who, as a child, was left for dead in a mud flat by her insane mother.
The story of her fight for survival(and eventual success) could have been a heart wrenching and compelling one. Instead, it was confusing and lacked the emotional dynamism I would expect from such a story.
Having not read anything else by Oates, I don't know if this is typical of her style, but I do know I probably won't be picking up anything else of hers.
The story of her fight for survival(and eventual success) could have been a heart wrenching and compelling one. Instead, it was confusing and lacked the emotional dynamism I would expect from such a story.
Having not read anything else by Oates, I don't know if this is typical of her style, but I do know I probably won't be picking up anything else of hers.
May 19, 2012
As an academic and a (former) administrator, there was much that I truly loved about this book. Oates perfectly captures the interior life and exterior "performance" of academic administration; I saw in Meredith many recognizable qualities, and occasionally, I saw myself. The first third of the book is lovely as we come to know Meredith and her childhood counterpart, Merry. There were times I thought, this could be Marya all grown up (referencing an earlier Oates book that defined my college years).
But the second half to final third of the book is exasperating. While I wanted to enjoy the gothic elements and the intrigue and the fugue passages, mostly they annoyed me. I wanted more out of Meredith. Sure, she is a survivor, but she's also hollow; her survival comes from some instinctual place, rather than a carefully thought-out and enacted feminist rationality. I wanted her to have more agency, be less passive or victim to her devastating circumstances. I wanted some sort of emotional resolution--which of course says far more about me as a reader than about Oates as a writer.
But Oates' writing, as usual, is both florid and gorgeous, abundant and sentimental; I found myself nodding, chuckling, grimacing throughout the book. She is indeed a "masterful" (mistressful?) creator and has fine-tuned her craft, and she remains edgy and experimental. I continue to find it tragic that she hasn't won a Pulitzer or been nominated for a bigger prize (e.g., Nobel). Is there anyone more prolific, more attuned to the operations of gender and class and psychological discomfort (if not outright horror) over the last half century?
But the second half to final third of the book is exasperating. While I wanted to enjoy the gothic elements and the intrigue and the fugue passages, mostly they annoyed me. I wanted more out of Meredith. Sure, she is a survivor, but she's also hollow; her survival comes from some instinctual place, rather than a carefully thought-out and enacted feminist rationality. I wanted her to have more agency, be less passive or victim to her devastating circumstances. I wanted some sort of emotional resolution--which of course says far more about me as a reader than about Oates as a writer.
But Oates' writing, as usual, is both florid and gorgeous, abundant and sentimental; I found myself nodding, chuckling, grimacing throughout the book. She is indeed a "masterful" (mistressful?) creator and has fine-tuned her craft, and she remains edgy and experimental. I continue to find it tragic that she hasn't won a Pulitzer or been nominated for a bigger prize (e.g., Nobel). Is there anyone more prolific, more attuned to the operations of gender and class and psychological discomfort (if not outright horror) over the last half century?
October 3, 2012
There is almost nothing more exciting than finding a new Joyce Carol Oates book on the library shelves. Her newest, Mudwoman, shines with her usual brilliance on every page, captures a kind of personal and social essence that is rarely achieved in literature. I know the word ‘visceral’ is so overused but the actual sensation of reading this book can be described no other way. Mudgirl, Mudwoman, M.R. – an abandoned child, an adopted teenager, president of an elite university. Within her, we see the history of a woman, certainly, but we also see the history of women, the experience of being a woman so vividly on the page that, even if we are a woman, we feel as though we haven’t quite captured our own essence until Oates reveals it for us. Other reviewers have referred to this novel as a ‘ghost story.’ I find that almost insulting and certainly far from the point. Or, on second thought, such misunderstanding makes Oates’ point exactly. Who of us – women – are not ghosts of ourselves, our dreams and behaviors and experiences shadows of who others want and expect us to be? I may say this once or twice a year: this book is a masterpiece.
May 25, 2013
Oh how I hate to say I did not like this. I struggled from the first page to the last, often skimming to get through. I so wanted to like it as Oates is such a recommended author. This was my first novel of hers and while I was prepared for something "different", I was not ready to find this a book that I wanted to put away, and yet I kept on. While the writing at times was beautifully descriptive, I found so much repetative narration that did nothing for me. I felt I was being led to something startling, eye opening, profound....but I never got there. I felt the story of M.R. was rather pointless, with no resolution for me. It very well could be me, it could be that this was not a wise choice for my introduction to Oates. I however will find it hard to try her again.
July 23, 2020
I wonder why everyone who commented on this page appears to be female. Don't men read JCO too (they should)
May 7, 2012
Slow ... I don't care about the protagonist "Mudwoman," president of ivy league college, her tortured past. I was tortured getting to page 100.
I've loved other books by Oates ... The Falls for example ... not this one.
I've loved other books by Oates ... The Falls for example ... not this one.
March 25, 2013
Every time I read a Jonathan Franzen novel I get pissed off on behalf of Anne Tyler. She covers many of the same themes that Franzen seems obsessed with. And while she is highly praised, she pales next to the rock star Franzen has become (this inequity is encapsulated by trade terms: Tyler's fiction is "domestic" while Franzen's is "literary.")
Along those lines, I am now going to cry for Oates every time Jeffery Eugenides' name is mentioned. Both authors share a faux-jaded worldview and seem to enjoy deep dives into the minds of super neurotic people. But he got a Pulitzer and she didn't? Come on.
Mudwoman is 100 times better than the (awful) Marriage Plot, Virgin Suicides or even the more compelling Middlesex. (By the way, I know my argument is based on a straw man that I have created, but...whatever.)
Plot: M.R. is the first ever female president of Princeton. Her job is to raise money from rich alum. Work is life and as it becomes more demanding, she buckles under pressure. M.R.'s thoughts frequently turn to her origin as a child abandoned by a mentally ill mother and her subsequent foster and adoptive families.
Oates constructs beautiful sentences in which it's fun to get lost. There is also a lot of well-done magical realism. At a thematic level, Oates has a lot of smart stuff to say, especially about women and power. And the actual structure of her writing is cleverly used to reinforce her points.
That said, Oates seems reluctant to pass any judgement on M.R., and by the end Oates' silence on the essential nature of her character leaves you wondering what, if anything, has changed in M.R.'s life. Similarly, it's a little hard to figure out how M.R. ended up on the path she is on in the first place.
Along those lines, I am now going to cry for Oates every time Jeffery Eugenides' name is mentioned. Both authors share a faux-jaded worldview and seem to enjoy deep dives into the minds of super neurotic people. But he got a Pulitzer and she didn't? Come on.
Mudwoman is 100 times better than the (awful) Marriage Plot, Virgin Suicides or even the more compelling Middlesex. (By the way, I know my argument is based on a straw man that I have created, but...whatever.)
Plot: M.R. is the first ever female president of Princeton. Her job is to raise money from rich alum. Work is life and as it becomes more demanding, she buckles under pressure. M.R.'s thoughts frequently turn to her origin as a child abandoned by a mentally ill mother and her subsequent foster and adoptive families.
Oates constructs beautiful sentences in which it's fun to get lost. There is also a lot of well-done magical realism. At a thematic level, Oates has a lot of smart stuff to say, especially about women and power. And the actual structure of her writing is cleverly used to reinforce her points.
That said, Oates seems reluctant to pass any judgement on M.R., and by the end Oates' silence on the essential nature of her character leaves you wondering what, if anything, has changed in M.R.'s life. Similarly, it's a little hard to figure out how M.R. ended up on the path she is on in the first place.
May 11, 2012
What a bizarre tale Ms. Oates has spun. I believe JCO is a very gifted writer, however, this story was a little to weird for me.
The Protagonist is a highly intelligent woman who became the first female Presidnet of an ivy league University.
She may be an intellect, but she is also a social misfit and seems to be very awkward & uncomfortable around pepole. Her life begins to unravel as she remembers and focuses on her tramatic childhood in which her mother tossed her out "in the mud" to die. She was found, nursed back to physical health and adopted by a couple who had lost their little girl recently, naming Meredith the same name as their deceased daughter. That alone was very strange.
So many times the line between reality and fantasy was so blurred, I didn't know what was going on. It kind of annoyed me, because it felt too disjointed.
So, she didn't really kill a colleague of hers, right? and dismember his body and dispose of it in pieces in the garbage? He was terribly rude to her and I thought he was getting what he was headed for. But, I think that didn't really happen.
The ending of the book was rather unsatisfying. Nothing was resolved: did she go back to her position at the University, did she really have a lover who wanted to be with her? hmmmmm
The Protagonist is a highly intelligent woman who became the first female Presidnet of an ivy league University.
She may be an intellect, but she is also a social misfit and seems to be very awkward & uncomfortable around pepole. Her life begins to unravel as she remembers and focuses on her tramatic childhood in which her mother tossed her out "in the mud" to die. She was found, nursed back to physical health and adopted by a couple who had lost their little girl recently, naming Meredith the same name as their deceased daughter. That alone was very strange.
So many times the line between reality and fantasy was so blurred, I didn't know what was going on. It kind of annoyed me, because it felt too disjointed.
So, she didn't really kill a colleague of hers, right? and dismember his body and dispose of it in pieces in the garbage? He was terribly rude to her and I thought he was getting what he was headed for. But, I think that didn't really happen.
The ending of the book was rather unsatisfying. Nothing was resolved: did she go back to her position at the University, did she really have a lover who wanted to be with her? hmmmmm
October 18, 2012
I didn't really like this book and was surprised given how much I usually enjoy this authors work. I found the book confusing, unclear and depressing. I am still not sure which of the musings are real and which are the alter persona Mud Woman's delusions and confusion. Apart from the late connection with her father the main character seems to have no personal ties to anyone and seems to connect on more than a superficial level to no one. I wish that the moral decision regarding accepting or declining endowment money had been expanded upon, it would have perhaps provided some needed focus to this book. I advise to read other of this authors books, this one wasn't worth the time I spent reading it.
January 12, 2016
Sometimes with JCO you can get in over your head. I experience this book as an audible performance and it was excellent. It begins as a story of mud girl and then about mud woman. As a switch back-and-forth it took me a while to realize that this was the same person. Eventually we have the story of a woman from the age of about five until about 45. There is serious intensity and insanity. There is much description of events and thoughts.
June 23, 2012
It's a terrible book. The plot is an unredeeming effort. It is all madness and the antiheroine right to the end. Feels like a bad dream wherein you are trying to flee but can only move in slow motion. I do not recommend this. Why did Oates write this? What is she trying to say? Getting old must really be depressing her.
May 29, 2012
This was not the kind of book I read for entertainment. Very poderous and slow to develop. I am surprised that so many people found it engrossing. I was not prepared to finish the book
February 19, 2020
Hovering between 3.5-4. This had me engrossed for the most part, but there are some unnecessary dream sections, and the ending is strange and abrupt.
August 26, 2015
publicado en http://lecturaylocura.com/mujer-de-ba...
Los que seguimos la cuenta de Twitter de Joyce Carol Oates somos muy conscientes no solo de lo activa que es, sino de sus denuncias sociales que revelan sus ganas de ser comprometida con la sociedad que le rodea.
De ahí que en “Mujer de barro”, la última novela suya publicada en España, veamos de una manera explícita su crítica ante unos hechos que han causado vergüenza a nivel mundial.
En este libro se presentan dos narraciones paralelas de la protagonista principal, Meredith Ruth Neukirchen (M.R en adelante y en el libro): en una de ellas (Niña de barro) asistimos a la evolución desde su niñez:
“Y qué belleza en esos lugares olvidados. Niña de Barro se acordaría toda su vida. Porque los sitios a los que más afecto guardamos son aquellos a los que nos han llevado a morir pero en los que no hemos muerto. Ningún olor es más acre que el agudo olor a estiércol de las marismas en los puntos donde rezuma el agua salobre el río y queda atrapada y estancada, con algas de un verde brillante como el de un lápiz de colorear. Vastas hectáreas insondables entre hierbas de enea y estramonio y restos dispersos de viejos neumáticos, botas, trozos de ropa, neveras con las puertas abiertas de par en par como brazos vacíos.”
Se trata, por tanto, de un relato de formación hasta convertirse en la Mujer de Barro. Pero muy al contrario de lo que puede parecer aprovecha la circunstancia para que todo se vuelva muy introspectivo, primitivo, crudo, muy visceral; a medio camino de lo onírico mezclado con la realidad. Consigue quizá los momentos más líricamente bellos del libro.
Por otro lado, tenemos la narración de la mujer adulta (mujer de barro) donde se desvelan las críticas de las que hablaba anteriormente; la intención de poner de manifiesto el error que supuso la guerra de Irak como consecuencia de la indefensión como nación ante el 11-S y por extensión, “la amenaza terrorista”:
“En el asiento trasero de la limusina, M.R. escuchó. Qué crédulos se habían vuelto los medios de comunicación desde los atentados terroristas del 11-S, qué poco crítica se había vuelto la información; le daba náuseas, le daba ganas de llorar de frustración y rabia, la voz inexperta del secretario de defensa de Estados Unidos que advertía sobre las armas de destrucción masiva que se cree que el dictador iraquí Sadam Hussein tiene almacenadas y dispuestas para utilizarlas en un ataque… Guerra biológica, guerra nuclear, amenaza contra la democracia estadounidense, catástrofe mundial.”
Vuelve luego a uno de sus temas habituales, el papel de la mujer en la sociedad, sus necesidades y la lucha contra una sociedad dominada por hombres:
“En cualquier caso había aceptado la oferta del Consejo de Administración de la universidad. Leonard Lockhardt había redactado su contrato. El claustro de la universidad había aprobado por una mayoría abrumadora designar a Neukirchen para el rectorado; eso había sido crucial para que M.R. Aceptase. Nunca se había sentido tan reinvidicada.
Casi se podría decir, querida.
Porque esa era la culminación de la vida de Mujer de Barro: ser admirada, querida.”
O precisamente la influencia de dicha sociedad en nuestro juicio, que elimina toda posibilidad de desarrollo individual si quieres mantener el status que has ganado en ella:
“Hablar a las claras, con franqueza –hablar con sinceridad- sólo es posible cuando se es un particular, no el representante de una institución. De modo que su indignación, su alarma, su desesperación ante la idiotez belicosa del Gobierno ardían bajo sus palabras en público, animadas y optimistas. Y su furia por la cínica explotación que hacía el Gobierno de Bush del miedo a los “atentados terroristas” después del 11-S, todo lo que sus padres cuáqueros le habían enseñado a aborrecer y rechazar.”
La soledad de la protagonista, quizá la extensión de la propia soledad que siente la escritora en su vida (no olvidemos que es viuda desde hace poco tiempo), le sirve para esconderse, para no demostrar lo que se está sufriendo:
“Señalaría una ventaja de vivir solos: nadie sabe lo débiles y ridículos que somos, cuando estamos solos.
Nadie conoce nuestra desesperación. Cuando estamos solos.
De lejos, todos parecemos serenos. Nuestra apariencia interviene para tapar nuestro ser.”
En estas condiciones el único consuelo que le queda es el disfrute de la lectura: alienación y puerta hacia otras vivencias.
“Lo que le parecía más fascinante a Meredith eran los libros: las páginas impresas, las palabras. No eran meros libros de texto ni pasatiempos, sino que podrían haber sido puertas hacia regiones desconocidas.”
En estas condiciones, no resulta incomprensible que la protagonista, impotente ante la figura de su compañero que manipula, le hace la vida imposible e intenta desacreditarla como rectora, como figura de autoridad; decida en un momento en su subconsciente que es Dexter y que esa sería la única manera de solucionarlo:
“Se puso los guantes de látex que ya estaban manchados. Como una cirujana –mejor dicho, como una patóloga-, agarró el serrucho, al principio con un temblor, pero poco a poco con más fuerza, y cortó las gruesas muñecas del hombre, los tobillos. ¡Qué sorprendente era tocar hueso! Tenía que abrirse camino por huesos y articulaciones. Ese era el secreto de la desarticulación.”
Sí, hacerle trocitos.
En momentos como estos te das cuenta de lo que nuestra Joyce Carol Oates quiere hacer, buscar nuevos medios de expresión, salirse del guión establecido; al fin y al cabo, hacer literatura. Libro difícil para iniciarse con ella, pero una buena lectura al fin y al cabo.
Los textos provienen de la traducción del inglés de María Luisa Rodríguez Tapia de esta edición de “Mujer de Barro” de Joyce Carol Oates en Alfaguara.
Los que seguimos la cuenta de Twitter de Joyce Carol Oates somos muy conscientes no solo de lo activa que es, sino de sus denuncias sociales que revelan sus ganas de ser comprometida con la sociedad que le rodea.
De ahí que en “Mujer de barro”, la última novela suya publicada en España, veamos de una manera explícita su crítica ante unos hechos que han causado vergüenza a nivel mundial.
En este libro se presentan dos narraciones paralelas de la protagonista principal, Meredith Ruth Neukirchen (M.R en adelante y en el libro): en una de ellas (Niña de barro) asistimos a la evolución desde su niñez:
“Y qué belleza en esos lugares olvidados. Niña de Barro se acordaría toda su vida. Porque los sitios a los que más afecto guardamos son aquellos a los que nos han llevado a morir pero en los que no hemos muerto. Ningún olor es más acre que el agudo olor a estiércol de las marismas en los puntos donde rezuma el agua salobre el río y queda atrapada y estancada, con algas de un verde brillante como el de un lápiz de colorear. Vastas hectáreas insondables entre hierbas de enea y estramonio y restos dispersos de viejos neumáticos, botas, trozos de ropa, neveras con las puertas abiertas de par en par como brazos vacíos.”
Se trata, por tanto, de un relato de formación hasta convertirse en la Mujer de Barro. Pero muy al contrario de lo que puede parecer aprovecha la circunstancia para que todo se vuelva muy introspectivo, primitivo, crudo, muy visceral; a medio camino de lo onírico mezclado con la realidad. Consigue quizá los momentos más líricamente bellos del libro.
Por otro lado, tenemos la narración de la mujer adulta (mujer de barro) donde se desvelan las críticas de las que hablaba anteriormente; la intención de poner de manifiesto el error que supuso la guerra de Irak como consecuencia de la indefensión como nación ante el 11-S y por extensión, “la amenaza terrorista”:
“En el asiento trasero de la limusina, M.R. escuchó. Qué crédulos se habían vuelto los medios de comunicación desde los atentados terroristas del 11-S, qué poco crítica se había vuelto la información; le daba náuseas, le daba ganas de llorar de frustración y rabia, la voz inexperta del secretario de defensa de Estados Unidos que advertía sobre las armas de destrucción masiva que se cree que el dictador iraquí Sadam Hussein tiene almacenadas y dispuestas para utilizarlas en un ataque… Guerra biológica, guerra nuclear, amenaza contra la democracia estadounidense, catástrofe mundial.”
Vuelve luego a uno de sus temas habituales, el papel de la mujer en la sociedad, sus necesidades y la lucha contra una sociedad dominada por hombres:
“En cualquier caso había aceptado la oferta del Consejo de Administración de la universidad. Leonard Lockhardt había redactado su contrato. El claustro de la universidad había aprobado por una mayoría abrumadora designar a Neukirchen para el rectorado; eso había sido crucial para que M.R. Aceptase. Nunca se había sentido tan reinvidicada.
Casi se podría decir, querida.
Porque esa era la culminación de la vida de Mujer de Barro: ser admirada, querida.”
O precisamente la influencia de dicha sociedad en nuestro juicio, que elimina toda posibilidad de desarrollo individual si quieres mantener el status que has ganado en ella:
“Hablar a las claras, con franqueza –hablar con sinceridad- sólo es posible cuando se es un particular, no el representante de una institución. De modo que su indignación, su alarma, su desesperación ante la idiotez belicosa del Gobierno ardían bajo sus palabras en público, animadas y optimistas. Y su furia por la cínica explotación que hacía el Gobierno de Bush del miedo a los “atentados terroristas” después del 11-S, todo lo que sus padres cuáqueros le habían enseñado a aborrecer y rechazar.”
La soledad de la protagonista, quizá la extensión de la propia soledad que siente la escritora en su vida (no olvidemos que es viuda desde hace poco tiempo), le sirve para esconderse, para no demostrar lo que se está sufriendo:
“Señalaría una ventaja de vivir solos: nadie sabe lo débiles y ridículos que somos, cuando estamos solos.
Nadie conoce nuestra desesperación. Cuando estamos solos.
De lejos, todos parecemos serenos. Nuestra apariencia interviene para tapar nuestro ser.”
En estas condiciones el único consuelo que le queda es el disfrute de la lectura: alienación y puerta hacia otras vivencias.
“Lo que le parecía más fascinante a Meredith eran los libros: las páginas impresas, las palabras. No eran meros libros de texto ni pasatiempos, sino que podrían haber sido puertas hacia regiones desconocidas.”
En estas condiciones, no resulta incomprensible que la protagonista, impotente ante la figura de su compañero que manipula, le hace la vida imposible e intenta desacreditarla como rectora, como figura de autoridad; decida en un momento en su subconsciente que es Dexter y que esa sería la única manera de solucionarlo:
“Se puso los guantes de látex que ya estaban manchados. Como una cirujana –mejor dicho, como una patóloga-, agarró el serrucho, al principio con un temblor, pero poco a poco con más fuerza, y cortó las gruesas muñecas del hombre, los tobillos. ¡Qué sorprendente era tocar hueso! Tenía que abrirse camino por huesos y articulaciones. Ese era el secreto de la desarticulación.”
Sí, hacerle trocitos.
En momentos como estos te das cuenta de lo que nuestra Joyce Carol Oates quiere hacer, buscar nuevos medios de expresión, salirse del guión establecido; al fin y al cabo, hacer literatura. Libro difícil para iniciarse con ella, pero una buena lectura al fin y al cabo.
Los textos provienen de la traducción del inglés de María Luisa Rodríguez Tapia de esta edición de “Mujer de Barro” de Joyce Carol Oates en Alfaguara.
April 8, 2012
I usually love (or at least like a lot) Joyce Carol Oates's work. This one, however, was too ambiguous for me. Her prose is very poetic, and I admire her fluid style, as if words just pour out of her. But this tale of the disintegration of "M.R. Neukirchen", the president of a Princeton-like university, was too fraught with horrific dreams and seemingly fugue-like states to fully engage me. The question of whether something was really happening to M.R., or was she just dreaming or having psychotic breakdowns, was happening too often to fully draw me into the story. The rise of this highly accomplished woman, from such a horrendous beginning, was an interesting concept. And Oates certainly knows the world of academia. But this one was not for me.
November 13, 2012
"You don't have to understand why anything that has happened to you has happened nor do you even have to understand what it is that has happened. You have only to live with the remains."
At the very end of this complex novel, M. R. makes this declaration to herself. I agree with the statement ("buck up and move on") and live by it myself in many ways, but it seemed like it would have been a better opener to this book. After Oates tells her story, M. R. is much less well adjusted than she was at the beginning before she took the walk by the river and Carlos (always some male figure to the rescue here) comes to her assistance.
The course of the novel follows the psychological unraveling of M. R. The cause of this unraveling is never made (to my mind) satisfactorily clear. In the beginning, she has moved on; she does know that she was mudgirl; she has kept her past to herself, but it is not a past that she has forgotten. She is very stressed and lonely and (as Hans Schneider first told her and she remembers at least 3 other times through the course of the book) being alone prevents one from ever turning off one's mind. And so, at the end of a very long first year as President of Princeton ("the University"), she has a mental and physical breakdown. This I buy, this I will grant Oates as believable.
HOWEVER, I do not get why she does not know to where she is driving in October when she bumbles off the road and hallucinates the Black River Cafe. I do not believe that she did not know where she was (near the site of mudgirl's rescue) or that she did not remember the pivotal event when she later recalls talking to her parents about it and reading about the Skedds' house fire.
I do not get why the events in modern time happen in the way that they happen in this novel. I find the whole psychology of it to be backwards. I think Oates explores some great themes (more below), but I think M. R. is portrayed as too naive in the beginning and too bedraggled in the end. There is simply no motivation for her unraveling.
That said, it was compelling and interesting and Oates tries (although maybe too hard at times) to describe the imbalance of power between men and women (even highly educated liberals): "It was like an aggressive male to not-see, or to ignore, discomfort in another." and "She felt her heart expand with an emotion she could not have named--not love, not sexual desire, but a wish to touch, and to protect; a wish to console. She thought there could be nothing more tender between a man and a woman, than this wish to console." and "Did you think you could escape forever? Did you think you could escape this--forever? It was meant: her femaleness. That she was a woman, in the body into which she'd been born. She had know this--had she? She had not known this, she had cast the knowledge from her, repelled, disbelieving. She had not loved any man, really--she had not had any child nor had she ever been impregnated, the thought had filled her with anxiety, disdain. For that was not her. That was not her wish." and "M.R. must always assure the listener that beneath the raw plea was spiritual well-being, good common sense. Not any sort of hysterical female." and "Always a relief when the astronomer-lover departed. For now the woman could be herself--whatever diminished self."
Oates also explores the imbalance of power between children and adults: "For what were the actions of adults except games, and variants of games. The child was given to know that a game would come to an end unlike other actions that were not-games and could not be ended but sprawled on and on like a highway or a railroad tract or the river". M. R., especially, was a child for whom childhood was dependent on unreliable adults (until she met the Neukirchens).
And of course, there are lots of little quips about class: "Even the word Please felt coercive to her. When you said Please to those who, like Carlos, had no option but to obey, what were you really saying?"
I also liked her reason for why speaking in front of a group is sometimes easier than speaking to individuals: "No speaker makes eye contact with his audience. The larger the audience, the easier. That is the secret."
Overall it was definitely worth reading and sparked some interesting thoughts; I felt that some of the time Oates was copping out (with the use of dream and amnesia not completely consistent throughout) and other times that she was too heavy handed (with some of her feminist comments, especially in M. R.'s dream of leaving the pool), otherwise it would have been a five star.
At the very end of this complex novel, M. R. makes this declaration to herself. I agree with the statement ("buck up and move on") and live by it myself in many ways, but it seemed like it would have been a better opener to this book. After Oates tells her story, M. R. is much less well adjusted than she was at the beginning before she took the walk by the river and Carlos (always some male figure to the rescue here) comes to her assistance.
The course of the novel follows the psychological unraveling of M. R. The cause of this unraveling is never made (to my mind) satisfactorily clear. In the beginning, she has moved on; she does know that she was mudgirl; she has kept her past to herself, but it is not a past that she has forgotten. She is very stressed and lonely and (as Hans Schneider first told her and she remembers at least 3 other times through the course of the book) being alone prevents one from ever turning off one's mind. And so, at the end of a very long first year as President of Princeton ("the University"), she has a mental and physical breakdown. This I buy, this I will grant Oates as believable.
HOWEVER, I do not get why she does not know to where she is driving in October when she bumbles off the road and hallucinates the Black River Cafe. I do not believe that she did not know where she was (near the site of mudgirl's rescue) or that she did not remember the pivotal event when she later recalls talking to her parents about it and reading about the Skedds' house fire.
I do not get why the events in modern time happen in the way that they happen in this novel. I find the whole psychology of it to be backwards. I think Oates explores some great themes (more below), but I think M. R. is portrayed as too naive in the beginning and too bedraggled in the end. There is simply no motivation for her unraveling.
That said, it was compelling and interesting and Oates tries (although maybe too hard at times) to describe the imbalance of power between men and women (even highly educated liberals): "It was like an aggressive male to not-see, or to ignore, discomfort in another." and "She felt her heart expand with an emotion she could not have named--not love, not sexual desire, but a wish to touch, and to protect; a wish to console. She thought there could be nothing more tender between a man and a woman, than this wish to console." and "Did you think you could escape forever? Did you think you could escape this--forever? It was meant: her femaleness. That she was a woman, in the body into which she'd been born. She had know this--had she? She had not known this, she had cast the knowledge from her, repelled, disbelieving. She had not loved any man, really--she had not had any child nor had she ever been impregnated, the thought had filled her with anxiety, disdain. For that was not her. That was not her wish." and "M.R. must always assure the listener that beneath the raw plea was spiritual well-being, good common sense. Not any sort of hysterical female." and "Always a relief when the astronomer-lover departed. For now the woman could be herself--whatever diminished self."
Oates also explores the imbalance of power between children and adults: "For what were the actions of adults except games, and variants of games. The child was given to know that a game would come to an end unlike other actions that were not-games and could not be ended but sprawled on and on like a highway or a railroad tract or the river". M. R., especially, was a child for whom childhood was dependent on unreliable adults (until she met the Neukirchens).
And of course, there are lots of little quips about class: "Even the word Please felt coercive to her. When you said Please to those who, like Carlos, had no option but to obey, what were you really saying?"
I also liked her reason for why speaking in front of a group is sometimes easier than speaking to individuals: "No speaker makes eye contact with his audience. The larger the audience, the easier. That is the secret."
Overall it was definitely worth reading and sparked some interesting thoughts; I felt that some of the time Oates was copping out (with the use of dream and amnesia not completely consistent throughout) and other times that she was too heavy handed (with some of her feminist comments, especially in M. R.'s dream of leaving the pool), otherwise it would have been a five star.
January 24, 2022
Ce livre m’habite encore en raison
- de l’écriture haletante de JCO, particulièrement brillante dans ce roman étonnant;
- du personnage du Roi des corbeaux (que je cherche encore à entrevoir dans ma réalité, lors de mes balades en nature);
- de cette femme, Mudwoman, présentée à toutes les phases de sa vie, fragilisée par son passé qui revient avec la force du refoulé et qui toujours semble l’enfoncer - on ne veut pas, car elle semble tellement avoir « réussi » dans cette Amérique maintenant plus polarisée que jamais;
- de son féminisme;
- des claques qu’elle donne à la droite (et à la gauche) américaine;
- de la tension magnifiquement présente dans ce livre et qui stimule sa lecture;
- de l’intelligence des propos et de l’ouverture des points de vue amenés;
- de la philosophie quaker qu’elle présente et met en valeur avec forces et faiblesses;
- des humains simples et imparfaits qu’elle met en scène, non sans réaliser au passage quelques fantasmes de vengeance sur la vie et ses injustices (déstabilisant et jouissif);
- des enfants qui y souffrent et des adultes qu’ils deviendront sous nos yeux (pas toujours glorieux...);
- des paysages sublimes et inquiétants que JCO propose dans cet état de New York voisin avec cette rivière lancinante et tordue qu’est la Black Snake;
- de la vie qui y foisonne; et j’en passe.
Et vous, quels sont vos livres préférés de JCO? Pourquoi?
- de l’écriture haletante de JCO, particulièrement brillante dans ce roman étonnant;
- du personnage du Roi des corbeaux (que je cherche encore à entrevoir dans ma réalité, lors de mes balades en nature);
- de cette femme, Mudwoman, présentée à toutes les phases de sa vie, fragilisée par son passé qui revient avec la force du refoulé et qui toujours semble l’enfoncer - on ne veut pas, car elle semble tellement avoir « réussi » dans cette Amérique maintenant plus polarisée que jamais;
- de son féminisme;
- des claques qu’elle donne à la droite (et à la gauche) américaine;
- de la tension magnifiquement présente dans ce livre et qui stimule sa lecture;
- de l’intelligence des propos et de l’ouverture des points de vue amenés;
- de la philosophie quaker qu’elle présente et met en valeur avec forces et faiblesses;
- des humains simples et imparfaits qu’elle met en scène, non sans réaliser au passage quelques fantasmes de vengeance sur la vie et ses injustices (déstabilisant et jouissif);
- des enfants qui y souffrent et des adultes qu’ils deviendront sous nos yeux (pas toujours glorieux...);
- des paysages sublimes et inquiétants que JCO propose dans cet état de New York voisin avec cette rivière lancinante et tordue qu’est la Black Snake;
- de la vie qui y foisonne; et j’en passe.
Et vous, quels sont vos livres préférés de JCO? Pourquoi?
April 19, 2012
This novel was just so-so. The peripheral characters were enjoyable, sometimes even remarkable (The foster family, the adoptive parents, and the high school math teacher were really well done.), but M.R. Neukirchen (aka Mudwoman) never quite seemed real to me. Obviously, she is deteriorating psychologically as she is placed under stress and starts to remember her supressed and tormented past, but Oates fails to distinguish reality from dream or psychotic episode, and leaves the reader as confused as the heroine herself. This sometimes seems to work in a story of psychological unraveling, helping the reader to empathize with a character wrestling with insanity, but NOT this time! The storyline was unnecessarily disjoint, and the ending was such a disappointment that it left me annoyed that I had spent the time to read the book. No hint of a resolution here.
Skip the audio book and go for the written text, if you feel compelled to give this a try. The narration was so painfully slow that I took advantage of my player's 2X setting to pep it up!
Skip the audio book and go for the written text, if you feel compelled to give this a try. The narration was so painfully slow that I took advantage of my player's 2X setting to pep it up!
April 13, 2012
I couldn't decide it it was a four or five star... but have gone for five.... maybe it's a 4.5er though.
I really love Joyce Carol Oates's books, she is a genius and writes incredibly diverse and believable characters. I really love her writing style as well (although I can see that it would not be to everyones taste)the way she uses italics and repetition - in Mudwoman the word 'brackish' comes up over and over again.
Mudwoman is about a woman who becomes president of a university and how her traumatic past begins to catch up with her. I found it really compelling, dark, anxiety inducing.... and then towards the end (without wanting to spoil it for anyone) I found it went a bit strange. There was a section that I found totally surprising (and a bit shocking) and the whole direction of the book seemed to change... it was kind of confusing and odd and i wasn't sure if it was meant to be real or not.... even so, this uncertainty added to the power of the book for me.
I really love Joyce Carol Oates's books, she is a genius and writes incredibly diverse and believable characters. I really love her writing style as well (although I can see that it would not be to everyones taste)the way she uses italics and repetition - in Mudwoman the word 'brackish' comes up over and over again.
Mudwoman is about a woman who becomes president of a university and how her traumatic past begins to catch up with her. I found it really compelling, dark, anxiety inducing.... and then towards the end (without wanting to spoil it for anyone) I found it went a bit strange. There was a section that I found totally surprising (and a bit shocking) and the whole direction of the book seemed to change... it was kind of confusing and odd and i wasn't sure if it was meant to be real or not.... even so, this uncertainty added to the power of the book for me.
May 22, 2012
I can still feel the emotional impact of reading this book in my chest. It has given me the experience I most like -- literary excitement. Oates knows how to give you deep emotional involvement, intellectual insight, beautiful, insightful literary pictures and intriguing turns of plot. The novel provides the feeling of hurtling toward an unknown in a runaway roller coaster car. I loved it! I have to go back to read some sections to be certain that I know how this "tour de force" was accomplished. Accomplished it is -- the work of a great "accomplisher."
June 22, 2012
A girl abandoned from her mother is rescued from the mud she is left to die in. She survives, goes to a foster home and then is adopted by the Neukirchen's - a couple looking to replace their child who has died. The even name the mudchild the same name as their deceased child, Meredith Ruth Neukirchen, MR for short. MR becomes in later life the president of an Ivy League college. Repetitive, confusing and a plot that goes between sanity and insanity left me wondering what I was reading.
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