Son of a rabbi, budding astronomer Gabriel Geismar is on his way from youth to manhood in the 1970s when he falls in love with the esteemed and beguiling Hundert family, different in every way from his own. Over the course of a decade-long drama unfolding in New Orleans, Philadelphia, New York, Chicago, and the Wisconsin countryside, Gabriel enters more and more passionately and intimately into the world of his elective clan, discovering at the inmost center that he alone must bear the full weight of their tragedies, past and present. Yet The Book of Getting Even is funny and robust, a novel rich in those fundamentals we go to great fiction for: the exploration of what is hidden, the sudden shocks, the feeling at last of life laid bare.
Benjamin Taylor is the author of a book of essays, Into the Open, and two novels, Tales Out of School, winner of the Harold Ribalow Prize, and The Book of Getting Even, a 2009 Barnes & Noble Discover Award Finalist, a 2008 Los Angeles Times Favorite Book of the Year, and a Ferro-Grumley Prize Finalist. In October 2009, The Book of Getting Even appeared as El Libro de la Venganza in Spain, where it was named a best book of the year by El Pais. In November 2010, Viking Press released Saul Bellow: Letters, edited by Taylor. Naples Declared: A Walk Around the Bay, a travel memoir from Marian Wood Books, is scheduled for 2012. Taylor is a graduate of Haverford College and Columbia University where he earned the doctorate in English and comparative literature. He has contributed to magazines including Bookforum, BOMB, The Los Angeles Times Book Review, The New Leader, The Georgia Review, Raritan, and others. A longtime member of the Graduate Writing Program faculty at The New School, he has also taught at Washington University in St. Louis, the Poetry Center of the 92nd Street Y, Bennington College and the Graduate Writing Division of the School of the Arts at Columbia.
The 1970s serve as a volatile backdrop for a complex interplay of love and family. At Swarthmore, Gabriel Geismar finds himself ensnared in a passionate triangle with the Hundert twins, Daniel and Marghie. While his connection to Daniel deepens, Gabriel grapples with his own familial tensions, a stark contrast to the Hundert family’s tumultuous dynamic, marked by the towering figure of their Nobel Prize-winning physicist father, a Hungarian Jew who contributed to the Manhattan Project.
This high-stakes drama propels towards a climactic conclusion, yet beneath the surface lies a poignant exploration of human connection. The novel examines the complexities of love, loss, and the search for belonging. Taylor's prose effectively captures the emotional turmoil of youth as it intersects with the weight of history. Amazingly restrained descriptions of the Gypsy Holocaust and the Jewish Shoah in Hungary are interspersed throughout.
The Hunderts, with their European sophistication, offer Gabriel an alternative family model. Their acceptance of him stands in contrast to his strained relationship with his own religious family. This coming-of-age story unfolds through a detached lens, mirroring the protagonist’s struggle to find his place.
Found this book while searching for the lyrics of a favorite family nonsense song [https://www.boyscouttrail.com/content...]. It's got everything: Los Alamos bomb history! male homosexuality! twins! rebellion! protesting warmaking in Viet Nam and Cambodia! classic movies! Roma! I learned about a ruin site in Arizona I hadn't known of before [https://www.nps.gov/nava/planyourvisi...], and watched Lady from Shanghai because it was mentioned. This is a very influential little 166 page book.
Sometimes I think I have read a zillion coming-of-age books in which young people bounce around from relationship to relationship, from job to job, from place to place. They never change much but they change what is around them in a futile desire to discover their own depth (which in many cases is completely non-existent).
Their are moments of humor in this little novel that caught my interest but the story was a major bore.
The story of a gay rabbi's son from New Orleans. The writing is almost too good; it holds you at arm's length, and you don't feel close to the characters. The brevity of the book is a problem, too. The rapturous final page feels unearned. But the story is fresh, the dialogue is snappy, and the prose shines.
The book starts, “He sneezed four times, always four, like everybody on the maternal side. Sequence was from firm to forcible to fierce to ferocious.” Making a point through reiterations. Which permeates throughout the narration, bordering on unqualified distractions. As on pg. 13, “the Swarthmore grounds were officially an arboretum: cedars, spruces, maples, lichen-spotted oaks (one of them three hundred years old), even a few carefully maintained elms. There were (error) a rose garden, a peony garden, and a pinetum. Catalpa, crepe myrtle, buckthorn…” Story of Gabriel Geismar (son of a Hungarian rabbi, Milton) from New Orleans to Philadelphia (Swarthmore) to Wisconsin etc. encountering the unusual: Hunderes (Lila & Grisha) family – Dany & Marghie their children that he has affairs with; Ned and Elise Dunallens (landlord; editor/writer) escapades etc. is lost in there somewhere. If it was a caricature of ideal family lives (both Gabriel & his mother hated tyrannical Milton – Gabriel belts his dying father – and both relieved on his death – goes to Hungary to spread his ashes), I missed it.
Wisdom abounds though: on pg. 19, “Gabriel held to Galileo’s view – that he’d rather discover a single fact, even a small one, than debate the great issues at length without discovering anything at all.” As on pg. 18, “…northern people had a way of priding themselves unduly on their opinions… in New Orleans wasn’t like that… Failure to agree threatened the social fabric. Either… agreement or… a change of subject.” As on pg. 119-120, “It is easy… to imagine other, stillborn universes… Among the improbable wonders of this one is that asks questions… so-called scientific ones… Our presence was designless, happenstance…” As on pg. 163, “A little after the moment of creation… as the pure energy cooled, a slight disproportion… emerged… antimatter would have canceled out matter… no universe would have come to be.” And so on!
Sometimes nice metaphors appear, as on pg. 33, “A silence widened out now, as if their beds stood on opposite banks of a river, and a traffic of barges and tugboats halted by, and the stars came out daintily, and the deep current pulled, and all at once there were no families, only them.” However, it’s filled with passages that I’ve no idea what it means; as on pg. 23, “And granted a real world as interesting as that, and still too young to have noticed that he was generation and decay too, Gabriel Geismar believed it would be a folly and a shame ever to die.” As on pg. 143, “When the park at Windsor is lit up by the moon, and you stand beside Herne’s great oak and feel the heavy ridiculous antlers on your head, and pull your cloak closer and hear the chimes of midnight ringing out (and the illimitable audience, unseen beyond the footlights, rustling with glee), then you know that life is as mocking…”
And quite a number of glaring errors. On. Pg. 48, “You mother wants you home.” On pg. 70, “I was chasin’ a merried woman.” On pg. 75, “Along about one – the house quiet,” On pg. 129, “Gabriel was bushed in his hands.” On pg. 99, “I do believe in twinship though, especially this underrated fraternal kind. We’re in nearly constant communion.” Unfortunately, fraternal twins are no different than siblings!
Several attributes come to mind to qualify this book – ‘a piece of an utter delicious nonsense’; ‘can’t decide if one is going through lunatic episodes of voracious nonsense or pretentious nonsense, in either case it attempts to overwhelm you in confusion with irrational turbulences’; ‘tries to make a point to ridiculous farce (inexhaustible litany – no matter if Gabriel is relating his score of past relationships or Danny’s inexhaustible list of books on disappearances for his honors thesis, and so on)’; ‘nerds unite’; ‘need an appreciation of know-it-all and be pretentious’; need be a literary genius to appreciate the writing and the written!
Una novela interesante, con un trío de personajes que se te quedan en la memoria un rato después de cerrar el libro. Es un juego de espejos entre dos familias: la biológica, que se siente antinatural, casi impostada por una especie de burla divina o ironía cruel de la vida y la familia de un par de compañeros de la universidad de los que este héroe conoce y se enamora. De ambos, sí, aspecto que toca con profundidad, haciéndonos comprender las afinidades que tiene con uno y otro. Estamos en los años setenta cuando una vegetariana cinéfila, un tanto obsesiva, y su hermano Danny, un adolescente excéntrico, de fuertes convicciones ideológicas, seducen a Gabriel, el hijo del severo rabino Geisman. A medida que pasan los años, Gabriel va adoptando a los padres de sus amigos, un proceso que se narra espléndidamente junto a los cuestionamientos de aquella época de grandes preocupaciones sociales. Vale la pena que la lean, lo único que le critico es que haya terminado tan pronto.
La tortuosa búsqueda de la identidad. En 185 páginas El libro de la venganza actúa como una granada de mortero que asciende con trayectoria empinada a una tremenda velocidad para terminar en una potente explosión. El relato está profusamente decorado y cuenta con la más profunda compresión y compasión por el funcionamiento del corazón humano. Hace una exploración sobre lo que está oculto transportándonos a la sensación final de estar frente a la vida al desnudo. Les dejará un sabor agridulce. Se sufre, pero también les suscitará un gratificante estado de liberación. Te deja triste a la vez que te vuelve más sabio.
Benjamin Taylor's The Book of Getting Even sounded like a good read; it was not.
Although there were bits of humor and action, it was mostly mundane and slow-moving. The style reminded me of authors who use way too many uncommon words to show off their vocabulary. I think the novel would appeal to Intellects, or young adults. Not appealing to me at all.
Benjamin Taylor is a writer in full control of the tools available to a practitioner of the language arts. His prose is elegant, his language intoxicating; the stories he tells are rich in detail, full of import, and of intricate disposition. His techniques have been assembled over a lifetime of reading: Nabokov, Bellow, Hemingway, Cather, Isherwood, Woolf. From these and others he has learned unconventional dialog, the trick of presenting action by catalog, the appropriation of history and science, psychology and religion, all of which he brings to bear in the creation of “fully fleshed and blooded” characters. It seems possible to descend from the “L” to a corner in Chicago and encounter Gabriel Geismar from Taylor’s latest novel, “The Book of Getting Even,” walking slowly past, musing over the material composition of the cosmos:
It was simultaneously dawning on the three or four best cosmological minds: the multiverse, universes budding from one another, a profusion of universes without beginning or end, our own the merest upstart in the myriad. Universes without beginning or end — this bright idea, with its reintroduction of eternity, infinite regress and infinite progress, universes forever abounding, whispered to Gabriel that perhaps he hadn’t come so far from Terpsichore Street after all since, soberly considered, he was only putting eternal Nature where the eternal God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob used to be.” (Pgs. 85-86)
One might even chance upon the magical puppeteer from “Tales Out of School” who, on one’s way home in the afternoon, might approach with his spelling board and introduce himself:
“Old? He was older than old. With a neck as skinny as a cart shaft; and bug-eyes, signifying pathos; and nowhere the trace of a smile. “Who are you, mister?” Felix asked at the corner of Post Office and Twelfth. He in particular, and Galveston in general, were interested to know. The ancient of days said nothing, unbuckling his grip instead and taking from it a little board furnished with the letters of the alphabet. S-c-h-m-u-l-o-w-i-c-z, he spelled, pointing to each letter in turn. I—a-m—S-c-h-m-u-l-o-w-i-c-z.” (Pgs. 121-122)
Taylor’s characters are made for a particular time and place, but they embody what persists in human experience, regardless of context: the pain of youth, the pleasure of tenderness, the bewitching impulse to create. In this last he is as much a student as he is a teacher. Every sentence is expertly wrought, designed to wake the brain, combining, as the best writing does, meaning with music and artifice with import. From such language he builds authentic albeit imagined worlds wherein satisfying, sometimes painful, dramas unfold, proving that in contemporary literature one finds, even on a single page, the artful, the imaginative, the credible and the fantastic.
I knew this little adult novel would be a quick read--just perfect for a Tuesday afternoon And now I'm not too sure what I think of it. I finished it, at least. But I think it's a little too adult for my student readers, and I don't mean that in a bad way. I just think that this book has a lot of dialogue and nuances that adults can catch, but maybe not so much teenagers.[return][return]Gabriel grows up the son of a rabbi in New Orleans. He goes to Swarthmore up north at the age of 16 in the 1970s and meets a girl and a boy who become his best friends. Gabriel is gay and has a relationship with Danny, but Marghie is in love with him, too. The twins embrace Gabriel and the three grow up together. As the years pass in the different parts of the novel, each character develops. But I think this is a brainy book. I had to read some parts slowly to catch all the movie and politic references, and in parts I had no idea what I was reading. I have a feeling that this is the type of book I would like if I wore all black, went to the opera often, and went to cocktail parties. :)
I give this book high marks because the writing is sublime. The prose leaps back and forth between the colloquial and the lyrical with the grace of a gazelle. The characters are interesting also but, in the end, remain somewhat superficial. There's an awful lot about the young hero, Gabriel, that we never see. Some cataclysmic events--such as the first time he sleeps with another boy--are scarcely referred to. Instead we are ushered on, as if by an impatient tour guide, to another brilliantly written set-piece. Recommended for those who love terrific writing, but don't expect fully fleshed-out characters or a strong plot.
Loved this book. A little bit intellectually heavy at times, since the main character is a budding astronomer and often looks to science to calm him or provide some order during times of chaos, but this is a tremendously affecting, beautifully written book. At its core are the questions: are we who we are because of or despite our parents? How do we embrace or avoid falling into their same patterns? The characters in this book are memorable, perplexing, amusing and heartbreaking. I honestly would love to know what happens to them now that the book is over, and for me, that's a sign I've loved a book.
While this saga of Gabriel, a bright young astrophysicist, coming of age with his best friends Marghe and Daniel, is extremely well-written (the prose is what you would call smart-literary), it felt curtailed and rushed to me. A lot happens, years pass, and several large themes are introduced (the role of Jews in modern science, gay relationships in the fast-changing seventies, the emotional toll of political opposition and protest, among many others.) In the end I wasn't quite sure how to feel about the main characters. I didn't dislike them but didn't entirely admire them either. I wanted more context or a longer timeframe -- maybe.
The Book of Getting Even is among the most original novels I have read in recent years. The story Taylor tells is a romance of brains — brains working well, then tragically giving out. The book is exuberant and charming and heartbroken by turns; indeed, the jaggedness of the ride is one of the things I liked best, along with Taylor's proceeding by ironies. Add to that lyricism, an ear for dialogue, a strong feel for place, and a highly developed dramatic sense and you begin to have an idea of this novelist’s exceptional gift.
It seems wrong to "review" a book I not only didn't finish, but one in which I didn't even make it past page 30. But, if I don't put it here in Goodreads, I am at risk of going to read it again (and again.) The blurb makes it look so good, but I could NOT get anywhere with it. If anyone in my circle makes it further and thinks it is worth it, I am eager to hear. The topic sounds great. I hated the writing...
The cover line blurb from Philip Roth intrigued me, so I picked up this new fiction and am really enjoying the story. Interesting narrator from New Orleans coming of age in New York and Chicago, discovering friendship and romantic love, and the philosophy of the cosmos through math and astronomy. Very literary, not much "action" happening per se, but it's a good, fast read. I'd recommend it to friends.
The story follows a Jewish youth as he takes off for college to escape his Rabbi father and unassuming mother. While there, he meets a set of twins that both fall for him. He is struggling with his sexuality and his views of Judaism. The twins father is his physicist idol and it appears to be the family that he always wanted. The story then shows the different paths that the three take in their adult journeys.
I got this book on sale and when I read it I got pretty surprised to find out the main character was gay although his sexuality it's the center of the story. Sometimes I felt I was lost in translation when the author went on and on with WWII details and completely forgot to tell the story of the characters. I fell in love with Marghie, a hopeless romantic, a reality-escapist, a true life-lover. I really expected more from the end of the book. It was way open although exquisitely romantic.
Can't quite decide what to think about this one -- in many places the writing was so crisp, but the story by no means original, more a condensed compilation of several other coming-of-age novels. And it tries to do so much in less than 200 pages... I'll turn a curious eye towards the next Benjamin Taylor novel, but not particularly impressed with this.
The book has just enough of a Philip Roth guilt-sex-family-jew complex thing to make me finish it, but that's the only reason I got through it. That, and it's short. There's lots of aspiring, an intriguing form of protest against war in there, but otherwise...I didn't like the main character and didn't care about all the scientific pursuits involved. And I really wanted to care.
very conflicted. the story never grabbed me but the writing was beautiful. "Some of us must cope with human nature as it is rather than dreaming of human nature as it ought to be." maybe Taylor is a writer's writer. i get that but don't want to spend any more time reading novels that don't have a good story.
I read through page 26. I just didn't like the protagonist. The book was too abstract. I understood the story, but I dislike disjointed narratives. This isn't excessively so, but not to my taste. Gabriel just meets the family that will change his life (according to the jacket) around page 25, so maybe it gets better. I have too many other things to read to persevere with this one right now.
La construcción de los personajes es sólida y constante, es fácil conocerlos y entenderlos. Los momentos decisivos son abordados sin mayores pretensiones, lo que les imprime un total sentido de realidad. Sin embargo, se siente vaga por momentos y puede ser pesada en lo que respecta a referencias culturales/históricas.
The plot is reminiscent of "Brideshead Revisited"--a young man falls under the spell of a family of a higher social class--and it's a pretty good book. (One glaring anachronism: no one used the term "obsessive-compulsive disorder in the early 1970s.)
I don't know. I felt really stupid after reading the rave reviews and then not getting it. I didn't find it entertaining at all. It felt so scattered and I honestly had a hard time just getting through it and it's only 170 pages.
Not entirely my cup of tea but in the end I enjoyed it, or should I say, I was moved by it. In a way I feel I was emotionally manipulated by the author in somewhat gratuitous ways. Nevertheless, the ending packs a punch worthy of reflection.