Another amazingly important novel from Chris Kraus. There might be other novels recounting the slippery descent into self-hatred, fear, and scapegoating that the Bush administration precipitated and which has firmly gripped the USA since the turn of the century but, not having read any of them--or even knowing about them--I find this novel astounding and original in its penetrating gaze into our current social and political situation. We have indeed become a nation divided into waggish "haves" who deal in cultural savvy and/or easy corporate wealth and bury themselves behind walled and gated suburban communities or urban high-rises and an other, growing America of miserably unselfconscious, often ethnically defined "have nots" who live in a shifting triangular space between addiction, insurmountable and ever-mounting debt, and incarceration.
The failed love affair of this novel, then, is the story of American bourgeois liberality, the last tattered remnants of our Christian and social conscience being crushed under the pseudo- or neo-fascist boot of privatized prison profits, a xenophobic rounding up of the usual foreign suspects (now for actual torture under the name of "interrogation"), and Ayn Randian logic that claims that hating your fellow humans is the best way to serve them. (From the other perspective, it would seem to be about blind, animal survival--ever tougher in a world that humiliates one at every turn and has forged a bond between poverty and morality that is only echoed in the few life preservers thrown to the drowning: more loans to pay off previous loans, a-moral twelve-step fatalism, and leaning guiltily on some member of that other, somehow much, much better class.)
I'm so glad someone said so. Reading this novel has been an empathetic trial and cathartic release and I will recommend it to anyone who will listen from now on--as the experience is described for the female, bourgeois half of the couple/narrative. In other words I identified wholeheartedly with the character of Catt--I, too, am a university instructor, writer, and cultural con-man. Still, I couldn't help but wonder what a member of the great American underclass, with whom I have flirted overlong and imitated but in which I have never really felt comfortable, would think of this novel. Will Summer of Hate ever be read by people like Paul? And what if they did? Would they find it condescending? perhaps in part. Such are the problems of subjectivity and the old modernist trope of representing in a novel a pair of contrasting subjectivities. Deftly done--it seems to me--but I cannot entirely judge the novel's success for my own subjectivity gets in the way.
As a writer I was at first quite disappointed to find that Summer of Hate was not written in the post-modern stylings of the other Chris Kraus novel that I loved sooooooooo much, I Love Dick. Still, I think I would defend the choice--political/sentimental novel that it is, the subject here is perhaps better suited to the modernist tradition with its firm roots in the socialistic realism of the nineteenth century. Still, I think Ms. Kraus did do much of the same kind of social critique in I Love Dick and in that novel the PoMo pyrotechnics served her well--particularly when dealing with love as a discourse, art world issues, and the exposure of the muting of the female perspective in the Occidental literary tradition. So, whatever--Summer of Hate says exactly what needed to be said, and in a traditionally sound way--Kraus is a great writer regardless--but I did slightly pine for the groundbreaking form that I so loved about her first novel I Love Dick. Now on to the other two novels that she wrote in-between--or at least Torpor; Aliens and Anorexia seems to be out of print and I can't find a copy anywhere that I can afford!