Une adolescente retrace le cauchemar de sa vie. Depuis son enfance, hantée par la figure d'un père toujours absent, qui était aviateur au Vietnam et que l'on devine bientôt trafiquant et assassin, jusqu'à sa rencontre avec un gourou satanique qui fait d'elle son esclave consentante et avilie... Mais, dans un sursaut de volonté, à deux doigts de la mort, elle va tenter de retrouver la force d'"exister " et d'espérer. Elle a tout juste 21 ans. Pour une fois chez Joyce Carol Oates, percevrait-on comme l'espoir d'une lumière au fond de la nuit ? Cette nuit, bien sûr, nous renvoie à sa vision de l'Amérique. Mais aussi à ses peurs et à ses angoisses qu'elle n'a cessé d'explorer dans son œuvre, une trentaine de romans et presque autant de recueils de nouvelles, de poésies, de pièces de théâtre et même de romans policiers sous le pseudonyme de Rosamond Smith. Joyce Carol Oates, née en 1938, est sans aucun doute l'un des plus grands écrivains américains contemporains. Et, en toute justice, l'un des plus célèbres
Joyce 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.
Ingrid Boone is the child of a handsome man and a beautiful woman, whose obsession with one another is like a powerful force. But her love for each of them, especially the innocence and blind trust she places in her father sets her up for the hunger that will follow her forever after; in the wake of a violent crime, her father abandons her and her mother.
Desperate to recapture his lost love, hungry for any kind of mercy at a man's hand, Ingrid allows boys and men to abuse her, searching for affection in the alcohol, drugs, and sex they offer. Then, finally, she gives herself over to the charismatic leader of an outlaw cult, Satan's Children, and she descends into the blackest of despairs.
There's a point in the story, narrated by Ingrid, where she simply states: "It's the men who treat you like s...t you're crazy for. For only they can tell you your punishment is just."
Witnessing a violent human sacrifice, and then left to starve in a dank dungeon, Ingrid's eventual escape brings about her redemption.
There was something so lyrical about this descent into darkness, for always at the forefront is the possibility that, no matter what this girl was subjected to, she had a strong enough spirit to come through it. Maybe having had the love of her father at one point, she could believe in some small part of herself that she was worth loving...even though her behavior throughout her teens and early twenties suggested otherwise. Seeking that love ultimately would lead to her devastation, but then again, would propel her forward toward salvation.
"Man Crazy: A Novel" is an exploration of our eternal craving for love and the devastating effect of its loss.
Very dark, but it left me feeling very good, warm and delighted. Why? Why, when I dreamed about it, did the nightmare visions taste like ice cream? Why do the memories of it feel like a picnic in the woods? Any other author would turn this story into the worst sort of pulp fiction. But in Oates' hands this is like walking through the National Portrait Gallery.
Normally, I admire Joyce Carol Oates and her willingness to tackle the darker sides of the human experience. Over the course of her novels (I think I've read about half), she has looked through the lens of past and present, working class and elite, boringly normal and crazy, playing with different genres and styles. I think she is one of the best fiction writers we have today. However, as much as I don't like to say it, I hated this book. It was too violent, too unpleasant, about extremely unlikable people. I got to the end of it and wanted to scrub out my brain.
Η Joyce Carol Oates είναι αδιαμφισβήτητά μία από τις πιο ενδιαφέρουσες, σύγχρονες φωνές της αμερικανικής λογοτεχνίας. Δημοσίευσε το πρώτο της βιβλίο το 1963. Δεν το κρύβω πως είναι μία από τις αγαπημένες μου συγγραφείς. Τα βιβλία της κατέχουν ιδιαίτερη θέση στην προσωπική μου βιβλιοθήκη. Σε μία προσπάθεια να συλλέξω όλους τους τίτλους των βιβλίων της, που έχουν μεταφραστεί στα ελληνικά, έπεσα πάνω στο «Τρελή για άντρες» σε μετάφραση της κυρίας Κατερίνας Σχινά, που κυκλοφόρησε από τις εκδόσεις SCRIPTA το 1999.
Βρισκόμαστε στην Αμερική της δεκαετίας του 1970. Η πρωταγωνίστρια του βιβλίου, η νεαρή ενήλικας Ίνγκριντ Μπουν νοσηλεύεται σε μία ψυχιατρική κλινική, όπου καλείται να εξιστορήσει τα γεγονότα της σύντομης ζωής της στον γιατρό της. Έτσι λοιπόν, μεταφερόμαστε στο παρελθόν και συγκεκριμένα στην παιδική ηλικία της Ίνγκριντ Μπουν, η οποία είναι κόρη μίας πανέμορφης, «κοκέτας» μητέρας και ενός βετεράνου αεροπόρου πατέρα, που πολέμησε στο Βιετνάμ. Η μικρή Ίνγκριντ μεγαλώνει αποκλειστικά με τη μητέρα της, μιας κι ο πατέρας της βιώνει ένα μετατραυματικό στρες, που τον καθιστά ιδιαίτερα βίαιο και επιθετικό, γεγονός που θα διαδραματίσει καθοριστικό ρόλο στην καθημερινότητα του, αφού τα προβλήματα που θα προκύψουν με το νόμο και τις τοπικές αρχές, θα τον αναγκάσουν να εξαφανιστεί και να περάσει το υπόλοιπο της ζωής του κρυμμένος στο σκοτάδι.
Η Ίνγκριντ ανατρέφεται μέσα σε ένα περιβάλλον αδιαφορίας, από μία μητέρα δέσμια της εξωτερικής της εμφάνισης, η οποία συνάπτει συχνά ερωτικούς δεσμούς με άνδρες, με σκοπό να τους εκμεταλλευτεί οικονομικά. Ζουν σαν κυνηγημένες. Μεταφέρονται από μέρος σε μέρος, σε μία προσπάθεια να ξεφύγουν από τη βαριά σκιά του πατέρα, που τις καταδιώκει. Η Ίνγκριντ διατηρεί μία ρομαντικοποιημένη εικόνα του πατέρα της μέσα στο μυαλό της, εικόνα στην οποία προσκολλάται και τελικά παγιδεύεται μέσα σε αυτή.
Η μικρή Ίνγκριντ προσπαθεί να επιπλεύσει μέσα στον βούρκο παρακμής που μεγαλώνει. Σε έναν βούρκο σκοτεινό και αδηφάγο, όπου η φτώχια, το αλκοόλ, τα ναρκωτικά, η σωματική και σεξουαλική βία αποτελούν αναπόσπαστο κομμάτι της καθημερινότητας της. Μέσα σε όλο αυτό το σκοτάδι, η Ίνγκριντ προσπαθεί να ανακαλύψει τον εαυτό της. Προσπαθεί να βρει τα πατήματα της, αλλά και τον χώρο που της αναλογεί μέσα σε έναν κόσμο απάνθρωπα σκληρό. Η πορεία της ζωής της ωστόσο είναι ήδη προδιαγεγραμμένη…
Από πολύ νωρίς η Ίνγκριντ οδηγείται σε μία ασυδοσία πράξεων, που περιλαμβάνει κατάχρηση ναρκωτικών και αλκοόλ, καθώς και ασταμάτητο σεξ. Η Ίνγκριντ παγιδεύεται μέσα σε αυτή τη φαυλότητα. Χάνεται. Μέχρι που συναντά τον Ήνοκ Σκαγκς και έρχεται η ολοκληρωτική της συντριβή. Ο Ήνοκ που είναι επικεφαλής μίας σατανιστικής οργάνωσης, των Παιδιών του Σατανά, καταφέρνει να τυλίξει στα δίχτυα του τη νεαρή Ίνγκριντ, η οποία του παραδίδεται πλήρως. Μετατρέπεται σε ένα εντελώς παθητικό πλάσμα, στο «Σκυλί» των Παιδιών του Σατανά, και γίνεται μάρτυρας αποτρόπαιων σκηνών βίας και εγκλημάτων. Η Ίνγκριντ βιάζεται ομαδικά και συστηματικά. Ακρωτηριάζεται. Μένει μέρες ολόκληρες κλειδωμένη σε ένα κελάρι δίχως νερό και φαγητό. Γίνεται μάρτυρας ανθρώπινης θυσίας. Η Ίνγκριντ συνθλίβεται. Έρμαιο μίας αδικαιολόγητης φαινομενικά προσκόλλησης σε έναν διαβολικό και αδυσώπητο άνδρα, φλερτάρει διαρκώς με τον θάνατο. Παρόλα αυτά, επιβιώνει…
Η Αμερικανίδα συγγραφέας για άλλη μία φορά συνθέτει ένα αδυσώπητο μυθιστόρημα. Σκοτεινό, σοκαριστικό, απάνθρωπο σε σημεία! Δεν χαρίζεται στην ηρωίδα της. Δεν καλλιεργεί αισθήματα συμπάθειας προς τον αναγνώστη. Ίσα ίσα που η Joyce Carol Oates προσεγγίζει την Ίνγκριντ με τρόπο ρεαλιστικό και ψύχραιμο, δημιουργώντας για άλλη μία φορά μία αντί-ηρωίδα για βασική πρωταγωνίστρια, την οποία ίσως προς το τέλος του βιβλίου κυρίως ο αναγνώστης αρχίζει κάπως να τη συμπονεί.
Το ΤΡΕΛΗ ΓΙΑ ΑΝΤΡΕΣ είναι ένα γοητευτικά σκοτεινό μυθιστόρημα, όπου οι ισορροπίες είναι δυσδιάκριτες, με τη συναίνεση, την επιθυμία, τον εξαναγκασμό και τον τρόμο να εναλλάσσονται διαρκώς, χωρίς να γίνονται αντιληπτά τα όρια τους. Πρωταγωνιστής του βιβλίου πέρα από τη νεαρή ηρωίδα, που με δεξιοτεχνία πλάθει η Oates θα μπορούσαμε να πούμε πως είναι το ίδιο το ΚΑΚΟ και όλες του οι εκφάνσεις. Η Αμερικανίδα συγγραφέας μέσα από τη συνταρακτική ιστορία της Ίνγκριντ εξερευνά το κακό, το κακό που ενυπάρχει έκδηλα στους κόλπους της καθημερινότητας, την απροκάλυπτη βαρβαρότητα της καθημερινής ζωής των ανθρώπων που δεν είχαν την τύχη να γεννηθούν με προνόμια και ό,τι περιλαμβάνει αυτό, αλλά και το κακό εκείνο που υφέρπει κάτω από την επιφάνεια, το κακό εκείνο που ζει μέσα μας, στο υποσυνείδητο μας, που τρέφεται από τους φόβους και τις αδυναμίες μας και δυναμώνει μέσα από τη σκοτεινή μας πλευρά!
Η Joyce Carol Oates τολμά να καταδυθεί στο απόλυτο σκοτάδι των διαλυμένων οικογενειών όπου πρωταγωνιστεί η αδιαφορία, στο σκοτάδι των εξαρτήσεων από αλκοόλ και ναρκωτικά, που για κάποια τραυματισμένα και ευάλωτα ανθρώπινα πλάσματα αποτελούν τη μοναδική σανίδα σωτηρίας, το σκοτάδι του συναλλακτικού σεξ και των σατανιστικών οργανώσεων, στο εσωτερικό εκείνο σκοτάδι των ανθρώπων που αναζητούν απελπισμένα λίγη αγάπη, πληρώνοντας τη με κάθε κόστος.
Η Ίνγκριντ λοιπόν, η τόσο σάρκινη ηρωίδα της Joyce Carol Oates αναζητά απελπισμένα λίγη αγάπη, λίγο νοιάξιμο, λίγη φροντίδα. Την αγάπη εκείνη που στερήθηκε από τον βετεράνο πατέρα της, αλλά και την ομολογουμένως αδιάφορη μητέρα της, θα αναζητήσει ακολουθώντας κακοτράχαλα και σκοτεινά μονοπάτια, όπου θα την οδηγήσουν στην ολική της καταστροφή και στην προσωπική της εκμηδένιση, κι αυτό γιατί έψαχνε απεγνωσμένα τον τρόπο να αγαπηθεί, αλλά και να συναντήσει εκείνον τον άνθρωπό που θα πιστέψει έστω και λίγο σε ένα μικρό κομμάτι του εαυτού της!
Μπορεί το μυθιστόρημα «ΤΡΕΛΗ ΓΙΑ ΑΝΤΡΕΣ» να μην κυκλοφορεί πια, όμως αν το πετύχετε στη σελίδα του «metabook» μεταχειρισμένο, αξίζει να φτάσει στα χέρια σας!
At first I thought this was OK, but by the end I hated it. Written in first person, Ingrid tells her story from childhood to late teenagehood. It is brisk, readable, although at first it seemed a little disjointed. The early chapters read as though they are a series of short stories, but that is O.K., that might be how someone remembers their childhood. But I’m not sure if they quite fit together. In one, for instance, Ingrid sees a couple of dead children: maybe they were in her head, maybe they were supernatural entities, but either way the book doesn’t pick up the idea again – it felt like an idea for that story, but doesn’t resonate with the rest of the novel. Man Crazy begins with Ingrid’s mother fleeing her husband and much of the early part of the book is a catalogue of bad parenting. By her early teens Ingrid is mimicking her mother and falling into abusive sexual relationships. It is open how we respond to the narrative. A feminist response might see Ingrid as a victim of a violent patriarchy, but she is a very passive figure, seemingly choosing to place herself subservient to the men. And we can see her as a victim of bad parenting: her mother drinks too much, is sexually promiscuous, is uninterested, is White Trash. Finally Ingrid becomes involved with a Manson Gang type cult of devil worshippers. There is something about the tone of the novel that I found unpleasant: it was like a tabloid newspaper that tells a scandal story, both moralistically disapproving and titillated by the scandal. But again Ingrid places herself in the place of abuse. It is easy to think that Ingrid is a victim because of the failure of her mother. And in the end there is promise of a better future…because Ingrid has met a nice, professional man who will look after her. Largely set in the 1970s, Man Crazy feels like a Reaganite sermon by the Silent Majority of American conservatives…although conservatives who get mightily excited by a wicked story.
I recently read American Pastoral by Phillip Roth, and thought to myself, "This could have been written by the daughter in that story." The mother in this story also seems like the mother from Roth's book.
It's probably one of the darkest, heart-wrenching, page-turning books I've ever read. I felt so sorry for the protagonist that I realized halfway through that I was reading this with shallow breaths.
I have read many books by Joyce Carol Oates. She may be the first contemporary writer that I have accorded a special position in my mind. That's because she can create characters and situations that touch me, that I can recognize, identify. Characters whose lives sometimes make me cry. I don't usually leave a book behind if it was written by her.
This one differs from many of her others in that it is surprisingly short. The chapters are short and announced with full-page separators, making the number of words total even smaller than you'd think from hefting the book. She is capable of creating whole worlds full of intimate detail, thus drawing me in and captivating me. I can't say that about this one, although it does contain some elements of the others that have held my attention longer.
As most of her novels are, this one is set in upper New York state, and involves a young girl, then woman, whose origins are less than ideal. Oates herself grew up in a family of few means. Even if she did not herself experience the same kinds of pressures her characters do, she was undoubtedly close to those who did. The young woman in this story is naturally beautiful, similar to her striking mother, but she works hard to destroy that beauty.
Why? I think it all begins with her father. Something of a larger-than-life character, Ingrid Boone's father flits in and out of Ingrid's life, appearing out of the blue and then disappearing just as fast. A veteran of the Vietnam War, he learned how to pilot a plane and how to kill, and he uses both skills back in the "civilized" world. As a young girl Ingrid adores her father and can't understand why he keeps leaving her. Eventually it becomes clear and Ingrid's eyes are no longer clouded by her love. Yet there is always something there.
Ingrid's mother brings other men into their lives as a way of helping to stabilize their household. Usually she cares for them but we are not fooled into thinking she loves them unconditionally. Her presence represents a threat to married women in the different small towns where they live, and then move from. She has few women friends, many men.
As Ingrid grows and becomes more attractive, she becomes obsessed with friends. She takes to counting her friends in her mind, even as she suspects that none are true friends, that they talk behind her back. She finds popularity of different kinds, yet is always suspicious. An intelligent girl, she is nonetheless careless about her homework and thus is valued only by one teacher. This one sees the promise in Ingrid's poetry. When Ingrid wins a prize for one of her poems, she does not think the poem worth it, and when she is chosen to read it in front of the school the idea frightens her into committing a strange act. Poetry has not given her a way out.
Meanwhile, she digs at her face. Pimples, blackheads, mosquito bites, imagined or real. Her fingers cannot keep from seeking them out and digging, until her face is a moon surface. Yet it comes and goes: sometimes she looks like any other teen plagued with acne.
In this state she meets Enoch Skaggs, the leader of a strange cult of often-murderous followers who will do anything for him. Skaggs has three "wives" already when he takes on Ingrid as a lesser lover, to be loaned to other men from time to time. In spite of the dirty, unsanitary, often cruel conditions, Ingrid is drawn to Enoch like, as they say, a moth to the flame. She accepts his cruel treatment, the abuses and uses of others, until a time comes when she is thrown into the basement of the house where they all live, and left there with little food or other attention for many days, as punishment for some action of hers.
By then heavily into drugs, she has few resources. But she has some. Perhaps from memories of good times with her father, even perhaps memories of some small affection from her mother. Somehow, in spite of the hands she was dealt she has something inside her that wants to live.
For a Joyce Carol Oates novel, this is a fairly short, quick read. Some chapters are extremely short, only a couple of pages. Set in rural upstate New York (the area where Oates was born and raised), the novel tells the story of Ingrid Boone, born to a teenage mother and a mostly absent father. Her father gets into trouble with the law, and consequently is only able to "drop in" to Ingrid's and her mother's life infrequently and without warning.
The novel follows Ingrid's life from age 5 to 21. As she grows older, she begins to engage in destructive behavior, being wanton with boys and men, doing drugs, taking little thought for her life. Two sentences from the book encapsulate her motivation: "Crazy for men they say it's really your own daddy you seek. I hope this is so, maybe someday I'll find him."
She finally hits bottom when she becomes captivated--and captive to--the leader of a Satanic cult. She escapes the conflagration and confrontation with the police that ends the cult, and goes through extensive therapy. At the end of the novel she is reunited with her mother, clean of drugs, and remembering with her the father and husband they have lost.
This is a dark novel. Oates here displays her talent for searching out and displaying the dark recesses of human nature.
Can something be so brutal it becomes beautiful? Or beautiful to the point the truth of what it’s saying hurts you? “Man Crazy” is that kind of novel. So devastating that it’s difficult to put down, though often I wished I could. Oates describes the pain of adolescence and the cycle of both external and internal abuse so well that you cannot help but writhe with Ingrid as harm and self hatred become your constant companion throughout. By the end, sadly, despite Oate’s marvelous ability to make a story that’s ultimately about redemption through gut wrenching and life altering pain, you’re glad it’s over, for what the characters have been through and where it’s left them.
This was really pretty disturbing. I found some of it a bit repetitive and the protagonist for the most part didn't really seem to take much control or responsibility for her own life. It did hold my attention though and was so disturbing that some of it seems to linger and leave a trace after I have finished reading.
Three of JCO’s books are on my “favorites” list (Mulvaneys, Blonde, and The Female of the Species) but many are forgettable to me- this is one of the latter. It could have been so great with the subject matter and plot, but it got bogged down with the writing style and weird jumps in time and character thread . But the biggest disappointment to me was that I didn’t feel she put me in the mind of a young girl in a cult, allowing me to understand how it could happen or what she thought and felt- the jump from promiscuous teenager to basically a sex slave and devil worshiper was unbelievable. I know JCO can do better.
Joyce Carol Oates has a very distinct literary voice, that is entirely her own. At the same time her characters also have their own distinguished voices. I'm not entirely sure of how she does it. How she moves so expertly and seamlessly between genres. How she manages to explore every depth and detail of her characters, giving them life of their own, and never once divering from her own "style". "Blonde" is usually described as her masterpiece, but Oates being such a bizzarely prolific author, I think her talent shouldn't be comprised to one single work. She's rather an artist who should be appreciated for the entire scope of her work, how she tirelessly continues to explore the "human soul" in book after book... Thinking about this as I read "man crazy". It's a messy book, a mad woman's memoir. It didn't blow me away, it's one of those less-impressive, rambling books that you'll only appreciate if you're a die-hard Oates fan. Still, Ingrid Boone has her own voice. She doesn't follow basic grammatic rules, matching her impatient, raw, eager personality; her insanity. She's confused and the writing is confusing. It's not one of Oates' best book. But it definitely proves my point, of how she understands her characters profoundly, no matter how ugly and pathetic and cruel they are.
My first from this apparently prolific author. Found in the bargain box at Borders for $3.99. Heard of her, but had not yet read her. The prologue is strong - the next chapter changes the pacing a bit, and then there are the ghosts. Will let you know how it goes.
So...I've been told this was not the best of Oates to introduce one to the author. If I had anything to compare to, I would likely agree.
I was able to stick with it all the way, out of curiosity more than anything else. It is dark, it is bizarre, and it leaves a bit of a nasty aftertaste. Especially could not appreciate that the "so-called" happy ending involved a case of transference and inappropriate relationship between therapist and patient, but, then again, that level of dependency could be an accurate depiction of a person who has gone through the experiences the main character in this novel did.
Also, there was never anything more of the ghosts...
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
This book is about Ingrid who had good looking parents and they were rather dysfunctional. she adored her father and and worshipped the ground he walked upon. Her father leaves both her mother and Ingrid. Ingrid is rather beautiful like her mother and this book is about how she destroys everything beautiful about herself and descends into darkness.
After her father leaves, her mother is not a good role model. And so she tries to gain affection from men with drugs, alcohol and sleeping around. she then meets Enoch, a satanic cult leader.
The rest of the book is how she survives and luckily there is a ray of light in the end.
Some parts I teared up lot and wanted her to survive. That is the magic of Oates writing. Some parts made me curl my toes but I really enjoyed the beauty of the book.
Those who liked Bastard Out of Carolina would probably enjoy this book. It is about a girl and her mom who are trying to eek out a living at the lower end of the pay scale. The girl holds out hope that her father will come rescue her from this life and builds him up as a hero. Obviously, she is just headed for disappointment. I accidentally read this book twice. I didn't even realize it until I got to the last chapter. The story just seemed so familiar. I guess I just assumed that I had read to many books that focus on the hard luck of kids who's parents just don't seem to care enough.
This book I didn't care for. If I would have stopped half way through (or just read the short story it was expanded from), it would be a four star. I just can't handle the whole devil worshipping thing.
On top of that it was disjointed and mismatched. It felt like a short story that was expanded and then took a wrong turn because the author didn't know what to do with the material (urg it hurts to critisize Oates!)
If you're going to jump into Oates for the first time, don't do it with this book.
No question, Joyce Carol Oates is a wonderful writer, but I found the graphic details of this story too much to bear. The story's about a young girl (told in her voice) whose father has abandoned the family. A Vietnam war vet and pilot, he's on the run, wanted by the police. The young girl is left to the care of her mother, who is man crazy, a partier. When the mother shares a family secret, it becomes one that tears the girl apart emotionally and socially. Without giving more of the story away, I found the last third of the book hard to read.
I didn't finish this book, which is a rare outcome for me once I start a book. It was dark and violent with stream-of-consciousness writing and it was due back at the library today. I bailed. I made it about 2/3 of the way through.
======================= So far this book is not going too well. Hard to get into and unusual writing - by the author's intent, it just doesn't flow. If it doesn't pick up tonight, I'm bailing.
Grim. Very grim. And a little gross, too. This was a typical Oates page-turner, I guess. At the end, you can see that the main character is holding strong to her fatal flaw handing her life over to any man who will take it, but the back of the book wanted me to believe she had "finally found love." WTF? Actually, I understand exactly. I once wrote some promotional material for books and I gradually came to the conclusion that this was best done without actually opening the book in question.
Because of the dark issues and violence involved, this is not a book for everyone. However, I think the protagonist is an interesting character, and there are important points being made regarding the impact of childhood experiences and the importance of true parental presence. It is beautifully written, as well.
I have learned not to read any more Joyce Carol Oates' books! Even though this story was somewhat more detailed, it became a page turner only to get to the end. It's a quick read, and, has, at least, an ending.
This wasn't what i was looking for at the time i started reading it. For me, it was nothing new, but i also didn't read the last quarter of it because, frankly i started to get bored. I will finish it one day tho, so i can truly review it for what it is.
Not her best book, but strangely compelling anyway. I've read it about four times now. Oates' characters stick with you long after their stories are finished.
In a publishing world where authors generally slot into genres and sub-genres and pretty much remain there for their entire writing careers, Joyce Carol Oates is a renegade. She’s an author who allows an idea, the thread of a storyline, a vague character outline, a headline, just about anything, to spark her imagination and pen to life. These can roll of the press as literary novels, gothic romances, historical novels, murder mysteries, or even lurid excursions into darkness (most recently like Jack of Spades). It’s said of authors that they just have got to write. However true that might be of others, it’s certainly true of JCO; writing for her seems a compulsion, wherein a day isn’t complete without at least a few thousands words on a legal pad. Thus you have an author who produces Them and Bellefleur, Zombi and Blonde, Foxfire: Confessions of a Girl Gang and this 1997 novel Man Crazy. You really have to admire, perhaps even envy both her versatility and her prolificacy, particularly in the light of the variety.
She can be a bit challenging for readers who wish to peg her as something. For example, you read her gothic novels and look for more of the same and find yourself disappointed when you encounter something completely different. Which is simply to say, with JCO, the way to enjoy her best is to give yourself over to variety and skillful writing and not expect exactly the same thing next time; or familiarize yourself with her novels and stick with those more in keeping with what you like to read. With her, you’ll surely find something.
So, here you have from 1997 Man Crazy, a tale of how a teen, Ingrid Boone, makes all the wrong choices in pursuit of her need to be loved, choices that lead her into a murderous satanic motorcycle cult (it doesn’t get much more lurid than this!) that almost takes her life but in a complete reversal, instead, proves redemptive, bringing her what she wants in her early twenties. Not at all like what preceded it, her highly regarded Were the Mulvaneys, and what followed, another entry in her Gothic Saga. Man Crazy dovetails with Foxfire, and more the precipitating early years covered in Mudwoman. It’s often pulpy and vulgar, verging often on insanity conveyed in a tumult of very loud words.
Even among the pulp, as always with her, you’ll find some keen observations of human life, things in the back of your mind that you just can’t articulate, but which she can, as through Ingrid near the end of her dangerous search for love: “For what I can remember is but a fraction of what was, as all that is is but a fraction of what was.”
Which is to say, even what may seen the lesser Oates is usually more than what most authors offer you.
Joyce Carol Oates always makes me feel some kind of way. To put more words to it, that way is usually disturbed, introspective and emotionally raw. While that may not sound entirely pleasant, her writing style never fails to propel me through her stories, challenging me, daring me to stare at the humanness of her characters--Man Crazy was no exception.
Superficially, this was a story about Ingrid Boone, an unhappy girl anxious to please the wrong people. Raised in a tumultuous home in a fictionalized New York town, Ingrid’s life is framed in opposition to her mother, and in the shadow of her mostly absent father. Her eagerness to please moves from school friends to essentially tumbling into a cult, Satan’s Children--the lure of its leader, Enoch, too strong to resist. Enoch dubs her Dog-firl, the aching need to be accepted naked in her eyes. Ingrid incorporates this name into her person and life, wearing it as a badge of acceptance, despite the reality of abuse and neglect as a member of the cult.
Throughout much of the book, I did struggle to understand Ingrid’s motives; she seemed incredibly passive, almost inexplicably so. Why did she keep letting things happen to her? Hurting herself again and again? Throwing herself off the cliff of self-destruction? I understand the human desire to belong, to please and be wanted, but her trajectory did seem extreme at some points. It wasn’t until I got to the end, after Ingrid had escaped from the literal lowest point of her life from that cellar and was reunited with her mother, that she really crystallized for me.
Ingrid caught herself marveling at the icy debris outside her mother’s house after a night of sleet and snow, “The heartbeat inside [the tall desiccated weeds...and little trees] had maybe slowed, only a murmur but if you squatted to listen, if you knew how to listen, if the wind would die down you would hear it.” Much like Ingrid, these trees and plants needed a trained ear, someone dialed in to a different frequency to hear their pulse through the chaos. Maybe, like the people in Ingrid’s life, I wasn’t quite tuned in to her, missing her reasoning and mistaking that as lack of agency. Was her mother listening? Was Ingrid herself listening? The evening before, Ingrid was unsure if what she was saying was out loud or not: “My voice trailed off, maybe I hadn’t spoken aloud.”, “But again, Mother seemed not to hear.”
I interpret the ending as hopeful--as Ingrid hearing her own slow and thrumming heartbeat through the wind and ice. There’s life there, and she’s now listening.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
Πρωταγωνίστρια σ' αυτό το έργο είναι η Ίνγκριντ Μπουν που μεγαλώνει με την μητέρα της, αφού ο πατέρας της, πρώην πιλότος στο Βιετνάμ, έχει φύγει στην Φλόριντα επειδή καταζητείται από την αστυνομία. Αν και έξυπνη, έχει προβληματική εφηβεία και τελικά παρασύρεσαι από τον Ήνοκ Σκαγκς που είναι αρχηγός της συμμορίας 'τα παιδιά του Σατανά' που προβαίνουν σε τελετουργικό φόνους. Όταν φτάνει η σειρά της να σκοτωθεί καταφέρνει να ξεφύγει και να οδηγήσει την αστυνομία στο λημέρι της συμμορίας. "Όχι μόνο τον θάνατο, αλλά και ό,τι ακολουθεί, δεν θες ούτε να το ξέρεις" "Ποτέ μη ρωτάς: αν πρέπει να μάθεις, τότε θα σε πληροφορήσουν οι άλλοι και μάλιστα γρήγορα." "Αν υπάρχει Θεός, έλεγε ο πατέρας μου, γιατί να ενδιαφερθεί για μας; Μόνο αν θέλεις να δώσεις νόημα στην ύπαρξή σου υποκρίνεσαι πως ο Θεός δίνει έστω και μία δεκάρα για σένα." "Δεν παίζω παιχνίδια, ποτέ δεν μου άρεσαν. Λένε πως όταν είσαι τρελή για άντρες, στην πραγματικότητα ψάχνεις τον μπαμπά σου. Ελπίζω να είναι έτσι, ίσως και να τον βρω κάποια μέρα." "Όπου δεν υπάρχει σεβασμός δεν υπάρχει αγάπη." "Έίχες όλη τη γαμημένη τη ζωή σου για να ετοιμαστείς, μαλάκα. Κανείς δεν έχει δεύτερη ευκαιρία." "Ήταν μεθυσμένος και ντρεπόταν, και όταν ένας τύπος ντρέπεται για τον εαυτό του κινδυνεύεις περισσότερο, αφού ξέρεις πόσο γρήγορα η ντροπή γίνεται θυμός, οργή, για μετά αμετάκλητη ανάγκη να προκαλέσεις μεγαλύτερο πόνο απ' όσον έχεις ήδη δώσει." "Παράξενο να γιορτάζεται η μέρα που γεννήθηκες και όχι μέρα που σε συνέλαβε η μητέρα σου. Γιατί εκείνη είναι η μέρα, η άγνωστη μέρα, ώρα, λεπτό, που αρχίζει η μοίρα σου."