A novel of intrigue that is played across decades, continents, and generations by the celebrated, New York Times Notable author of Ambassador of the Dead
Late one night, a week after Father's suicide, I finished sweeping the bulk of my inheritance into four giant trash bags, and heaved them into the Dumpster at the construction site around the corner from his apartment. Then I sat down at the two-person coffee table in the middle of his kitchen, the fluorescent light loud as cicadas, and examined the three things I'd kept.
The three things that James kept are his father's British military uniform, an oversize glass jar, and a letter written in a language he can't read. They become the keys to unlocking the door on a past James never imagined while growing up amid the security of Boston's north shore, and they send him on an odyssey across England, Austria, and Ukraine. Along the way, he meets his dying aunt Vera, the matriarch of a mysterious branch of the family. His mission puts him face-to-face with the international sex trade, a displaced Palestinian girl with streaked pink hair and attitude to spare, and a violent world in which he is ultimately implicated. From old America, new Europe, and the timeless Middle East, James learns what it means to live in the webbed world of the twenty-first century.
In The House of Widows, Askold Melnyczuk offers a searing exploration of the individual's role in the inexorable assault of history.
American writer whose publications include novels, essays, poems, memoir, and translations. Among his works are the novels What Is Told, Ambassador of the Dead, House of Widows and Excerpt from Smedley's Secret Guide to World Literature. His work has been translated into German, Polish, Russian, and Ukrainian. Melnyczuk also founded the journal AGNI (magazine) and Arrowsmith Press (2006).
dazzling and intense...the story drew me in, but the quality of the writing kept me there. I have read his earlier books and I believe this is his best yet.
My only beef is with two sentences that contain who/whom errors. The character who is speaking is well-educated enough (Oxford) to use correct grammar.
James Pak is a smart guy-he's heading to Oxford and his qualifications are impeccable. He knows the facts of history, is well-educated in most fields, has a gentlemanly manner, is apparently good looking, and cash doesn't seem to be an issue. He seems to have it all together, except for the haunting questions about his father's suicide that nag at him in inopportune moments. His main problem seems to be that while he studies the facts of history, he doesn't understand the emotions that are interlinked with it. Unless one can ascertain both, they aren't prepared to deal with some of the ugly truths that surround them.
In this novel, The House of Widows, we see James try to make sense of it all. He travels to one of his father's oldest friends, looking for answers. Much about her is veiled in mystery, and her strange brother and her adopted Palestinian daughter complicate James' understanding as well. He discovers that what he thought about his father was so wrong that it has to change how he thinks about himself. In fact, James plays the unreliable narrator to perfection.
The novel travels throughout the world, with James on a quest for answers, yet ignorant to some of the solutions he carries with him. War is a repeating motif that underlines the emotional ties to history. They can't be separated and defined on a page. And the trouble that comes with searching for answers is realizing that the answers may be worse than your imagination. On top of that is the knowledge that in many cases, such as the Middle East (where portions of this book take place), there are no easy answers that are palatable to all.
A few times my jaw dropped in shock at some of the revelations, and at other times I was a bit overwhelmed by the tragedy of it all. It is engrossing...you may find it difficult to put down, which is probably for the best because it's easy to lose track of each character if you step away for long. Be prepared for surprises, and if you really want to appreciate it, have a map of Western Europe at hand. The only thing that mildly annoyed me about the book was some of the dialogue felt surreal-a bit unrealistic in the way seemingly ordinary people speak. Yet that too reveals part of the complexities of their emotional baggage.
Based on the title alone, one might guess, correctly, that Askold Melnyczuk’s The House of Widows isn’t exactly light—or necessarily enjoyable—reading.
Following his father’s suicide, James Pak—a self-described historian—travels to London, Vienna, and Kyiv in search of his father’s, and consequently his own, history. What he discovers is far from comforting: war crimes, abuse, human trafficking.
The book has an interesting narrative pattern as it interweaves several stories and voices. Along with a 25-year-old James’s search for his family story, a contemporary James, now an employee at the U.S. embassy in Vienna, must decide how to deal with volatile information he’s been given about American soldiers in Iraq. Even James’s father and an Interpol agent have their own chapters.
The “House of Widows” isn’t what one might think, and the entire book is full of surprises: twists, turns, and history repeating itself. That being said, the book certainly does not read like popular spy/thriller fiction.
At times, particularly at the beginning, Melnyczuk’s writing feels almost intentionally obscure. As the story develops, though, the writing relaxes, the pace picks up, and Menyczuk creates an intriguing, thought-provoking read.
Well, its politics and agenda are extremely overt.
Wonderful plot, reminiscent of Roth's Prague Orgy , but from the point of view of a distinctly different ethnic culture. Boy, does that sound goofy, but I only mean one can certainly tell that Melnyczuk's main player (and his father, and his grandmother and uncles) is Ukrainian, even when he's not stating it explicitly.
The book contains some lovely phrases, such as "...slutty Ariadne," the sort of thing one (as a writer) wishes he'd done himself. It's also never a boring story.
But there are some sloppy moments. Because this is a novel by a former teacher of mine, I expected not to find these, and became cranky when I did. When I read a teacher's work, I'm not looking only for a fun ride and a novel conception; I'm looking for a model to compare as I construct my own objects. This is that, but to an extent.
James Pak witnesses his father's suicide and then travels throughout Europe to discover why his father did it. Melnyczuk shifts time periods and narrators throughout so you have to really concentrate on the text in order to determine if the chapter in question is set in 1989, 1949, 1969, 2004, or 1936 (and let's not get into whether you are in New England, Oxford, Austria, or near Chernobyl or which narrator it is). While hard to get into at first, the book grows on you, but the main narrator, James, is rather uninteresting. When the book switches back to him for the final few chapters, it gets boring, and the ending is a disappointment. Intersting, but not satisfying.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
After a dense beginning to set the stage for an elaborate cast of characters, this book really opens up and sings. Half of the middle passages read like prose poems and makes this book read easy like a dream at times. I found James' interaction with his family so realistic and 'American' (his initial timidity towards them & willingness to please eventually turns to exasperation and confusion, though embraced as 'experience'). A novel that opens your eyes to the world and ties strings between places you thought once too far away to matter to eachother, though on closer inspection, only appear to be because families --like James', mine, yours--have reasons for keeping them that way.
A son journeys to Europe to discover the roots of his father's suicide by investigating his families history.
I think this book would have been better if it had just stuck with the son's point of view, and we learned things as he discovered them. Instead the narration jumped to different people, I suppose to show that they all interpreted the same events differently. Maybe it is just personal preference but I would have preferred to focus on the emotional journey and growth of one character rather than examine a somewhat tired idea.
This is a novel with a multilayered plot that, in the end, is very thin and insubstantial. The story toggles back and forth across a number of years, which makes it a bit hard to follow, and I am guessing this was done by the author to flesh out his book; in the event, this 250-page novel is not even that long because of the way the chapters are paginated. It is densely written and none of the characters are sympathetic, which I always find annoying. An unsatisfying read that seemed at first to show more promise than it ended up delivering.
I liked this one and I disliked this one. Melnyczuk is novelist and a poet. It is the flavor of poetry in this novel that intrigued me. The story's theme may be dread, it certainly isn't forgiveness. The characters are brought to life through Melnyczuk's use of language and history and geography. This novel might be more of a cult thing where I just don't get it.
What I disliked was the way the speaker changed and I didn't know it and then I would get confused and have to reread paragraphs.
James' father commits suicide and he goes on a journey to find out his father's background and his family's history. It is a story full of twists and turns, morally and politically. The more I read, the more confused I became. The story goes back and forth, and even with dates at beginnings if chapters, my comprehension was blurry. It was a disappointment, truth be told.
Mostly told in flashback, this one is hard to follow. The preview notes make it sound interesting---a man traveling to many countries trying to figure out why his father committed suicide---but it just didn't grab me.
At some point, I'll manage to work through the beginning... the rest of the book still sounds so promising but the beginning has about put me to sleep.