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The Uses of Enchantment
One Autumn day in 1985, sixteen-year-old Mary Veal vanishes from her Massachusetts prep school. A few weeks later she reappears unharmed and with little memory of what happened to her--or at least little that she is willing to share. Was Mary abducted, or did she fake her disappearance? This question haunts Mary's family, her psychologist, even Mary herself. Weaving together three narratives, The Uses of Enchantment conjures a spell in which the hallucinatory power of a young woman’s sexuality, and her desire to wield it, has devastating consequences for all involved.
370 pages, Kindle Edition
First published January 1, 2001
36 people are currently reading
1223 people want to read
About the author
Heidi Julavits
117 books343 followersHeidi Suzanne Julavits is an American author and co-editor of The Believer magazine. She has been published in The Best Creative Nonfiction Vol. 2, Esquire, Story, Zoetrope All-Story, and McSweeney's Quarterly. Her novels include The Mineral Palace (2000), The Effect of Living Backwards (2003) and The Uses of Enchantment (2006) and The Vanishers (2012).
She was born and grew up in Portland, Maine, before attending Dartmouth College. She later went on to earn an MFA from Columbia University.
She wrote the article "Rejoice! Believe! Be Strong and Read Hard!" (subtitled: "A Call For A New Era Of Experimentation, and a Book Culture That Will Support It") in the debut issue of The Believer, a publication which attempts to avoid snarkiness and "give people and books the benefit of the doubt."
In 2005, she told the New York Times culture writer A.O. Scott how'd she decided on The Believer's tone: "I really saw 'the end of the book' as originating in the way books are talked about now in our culture and especially in the most esteemed venues for book criticism. It seemed as though their irrelevance was a foregone conclusion, and we were just practicing this quaint exercise of pretending something mattered when of course everyone knew it didn't." She added her own aim as book critic would be "to endow something with importance, by treating it as an emotional experience."
She has also written short stories, such as "The Santosbrazzi Killer", which was published in Harper's Magazine.
Julavitz currently lives in Maine and Manhattan with her husband, the writer Ben Marcus, and their children
She was born and grew up in Portland, Maine, before attending Dartmouth College. She later went on to earn an MFA from Columbia University.
She wrote the article "Rejoice! Believe! Be Strong and Read Hard!" (subtitled: "A Call For A New Era Of Experimentation, and a Book Culture That Will Support It") in the debut issue of The Believer, a publication which attempts to avoid snarkiness and "give people and books the benefit of the doubt."
In 2005, she told the New York Times culture writer A.O. Scott how'd she decided on The Believer's tone: "I really saw 'the end of the book' as originating in the way books are talked about now in our culture and especially in the most esteemed venues for book criticism. It seemed as though their irrelevance was a foregone conclusion, and we were just practicing this quaint exercise of pretending something mattered when of course everyone knew it didn't." She added her own aim as book critic would be "to endow something with importance, by treating it as an emotional experience."
She has also written short stories, such as "The Santosbrazzi Killer", which was published in Harper's Magazine.
Julavitz currently lives in Maine and Manhattan with her husband, the writer Ben Marcus, and their children
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 233 reviews
August 9, 2007
(The much longer full review of this book can be found at the Chicago Center for Literature and Photography [cclapcenter.com].)
Okay, I admit it; that the subject of today's review was not scheduled to be read for another three or four books now in my queue list (i.e. the pile of library books and advanced reading copies at the foot of my bed), but was purposely moved up because of recently filing a very bad review here of Nell Freudenberger's The Dissident. And that's because, as a white male covering an industry dominated by white males, I'm sensitive to how insular such a situation can get; I'm well aware, for example, how few smart novels are published by female authors each year in the first place, leading me to only rarely reviewing female authors here, and so am even more sensitive than normal when one of those reviews turns out to be an intense pan, as was the case with The Dissident. I was anxious to find another novel quickly by a female author that I absolutely loved, so as to at least put a small dent in the usual sausagefest CCLaP's book reviews normally are.
And as much as I hate writing bad reviews (and seriously, I hate writing bad reviews), I have to admit that I'm glad the situation inspired me to move up the delightfully twisted and surprisingly complex The Uses of Enchantment, the third and latest book by Heidi Julavits, a founding editor of fellow "we only say nice things" lit-crit magazine "The Believer" [believermag.com], itself an imprint of indie-press king McSweeney's [mcsweeneys.net]. Almost as if exactly knowing what I was precisely looking for these days, the novel is not only a daring and thought-provoking story by a woman, but also about women, about a side of being a woman that men will never understand or experience themselves, a story that only a woman could tell in the first place. It's one of those rare finds, in fact -- a story containing almost no parallels to my own life, concerning instead subjects I rarely even think about, but which by the end turned into a gripping page-turner for me, an emotional mindf--k that will still be caught in your brain weeks after you finish.
In fact, even the setting of Enchantment couldn't be...
Okay, I admit it; that the subject of today's review was not scheduled to be read for another three or four books now in my queue list (i.e. the pile of library books and advanced reading copies at the foot of my bed), but was purposely moved up because of recently filing a very bad review here of Nell Freudenberger's The Dissident. And that's because, as a white male covering an industry dominated by white males, I'm sensitive to how insular such a situation can get; I'm well aware, for example, how few smart novels are published by female authors each year in the first place, leading me to only rarely reviewing female authors here, and so am even more sensitive than normal when one of those reviews turns out to be an intense pan, as was the case with The Dissident. I was anxious to find another novel quickly by a female author that I absolutely loved, so as to at least put a small dent in the usual sausagefest CCLaP's book reviews normally are.
And as much as I hate writing bad reviews (and seriously, I hate writing bad reviews), I have to admit that I'm glad the situation inspired me to move up the delightfully twisted and surprisingly complex The Uses of Enchantment, the third and latest book by Heidi Julavits, a founding editor of fellow "we only say nice things" lit-crit magazine "The Believer" [believermag.com], itself an imprint of indie-press king McSweeney's [mcsweeneys.net]. Almost as if exactly knowing what I was precisely looking for these days, the novel is not only a daring and thought-provoking story by a woman, but also about women, about a side of being a woman that men will never understand or experience themselves, a story that only a woman could tell in the first place. It's one of those rare finds, in fact -- a story containing almost no parallels to my own life, concerning instead subjects I rarely even think about, but which by the end turned into a gripping page-turner for me, an emotional mindf--k that will still be caught in your brain weeks after you finish.
In fact, even the setting of Enchantment couldn't be...
July 21, 2023
In mid 80s, sixteen year old Mary Veal is abducted in front of her private school. Desperate search is fruitless. Suddenly, few months later, she returns home, unharmed, with no memories of her time during her captivity. Over the next little while, she's sent to a psychologist. It's there that a game of belligerent deception starts up. Was she actually abducted or is she cleverly managing to fool all of those close to her. Her controlling mother is the person who has the toughest time in accepting her abduction and the mysteries behind it. It's the twisted relationship with her psychologist that makes this novel into a head-scratching wonder. Should the reader care who's lying and who's telling the truth or should we be more concerned with reasons behind Mary's bold decision? Brilliant and disturbing novel that remains with you long after its finale.
January 31, 2009
At the start of Heidi Julavits' intriguing novel, 16-year old Mary Veal disappears from her private school one afternoon in 1985. Three weeks later, she reappears claiming to have little memory of what happened to her. In the months that follow, numerous psychiatrists attempt to discern whether Mary is a victim of abduction and rape or a liar who engineered her own disappearance for mysterious, sixteen-year old reasons.
Julavits novel switches back and forth between a narrative entitled "What Might Have Happened" that speculates on the events of those lost weeks, notes from the analyst who treated Mary after her reappearance, and the story of 30-year old Mary's return home after the death of her estranged mother. Of these three threads, the first is by far the most compelling. Here Julavits masterfully teases apart the complex motivations that underlie the developing relationship between Mary and the strange man whose car she climbed into that fateful afternoon.
Unfortunately, the other two narrative threads did not hold my attention to the same degree. 30-year old Mary just wasn't as compelling a character as her younger self, and her interactions with her bitchy sisters and other parts of her past dragged at times. While the analyst notes depicting the cat-and-mouse game Mary played with the therapist who was hoping to resurrect his career off of his theories about her were somewhat more interesting, they were also obscure and Freudian to a degree that I found maddening at times.
I finished this book with a mixture of admiration and frustration. The underlying questions about identity, sexuality and repression in this story were fascinating to me, but I closed the book feeling unsatisfied. Though Mary finds resolution at the end of her tale, the author simply did not provide enough information for me to feel the same.
Julavits novel switches back and forth between a narrative entitled "What Might Have Happened" that speculates on the events of those lost weeks, notes from the analyst who treated Mary after her reappearance, and the story of 30-year old Mary's return home after the death of her estranged mother. Of these three threads, the first is by far the most compelling. Here Julavits masterfully teases apart the complex motivations that underlie the developing relationship between Mary and the strange man whose car she climbed into that fateful afternoon.
Unfortunately, the other two narrative threads did not hold my attention to the same degree. 30-year old Mary just wasn't as compelling a character as her younger self, and her interactions with her bitchy sisters and other parts of her past dragged at times. While the analyst notes depicting the cat-and-mouse game Mary played with the therapist who was hoping to resurrect his career off of his theories about her were somewhat more interesting, they were also obscure and Freudian to a degree that I found maddening at times.
I finished this book with a mixture of admiration and frustration. The underlying questions about identity, sexuality and repression in this story were fascinating to me, but I closed the book feeling unsatisfied. Though Mary finds resolution at the end of her tale, the author simply did not provide enough information for me to feel the same.
November 4, 2011
Wow, what a huge disappointment. I gave this book one star for the original ideas and promise that the book seemed about to offer.
The writing was stilted, amateur and pretentious. The frequent dull, long winded descriptions of the most innane minutiae, which added nothing to the story served merely as page fillers. It seemed that the author was too absorbed in trying to convince everyone what a great writer she is rather than the truly talented authors who transport their readers into the story, enabling them to identify or at least believe in the characters and the plot. This book excelled at poorly developed, unsympathetic and utterly unbelievable characters for the mostpart. Lazy and ineffectual storytelling with elements introduced which were superfluous and confusing, for example, the cigarrette case. Other than being set in Salem, the witch angle was just a publicity and marketing stunt to garner a wider audience. If you like reading about witches...give this book a miss.
I'm happy to be left wondering at the end of a book between possible endings so long as the journey there has been interesting, compelling and expertly navigated. The only thing this book left me wondering was how it ever made it into print.
The writing was stilted, amateur and pretentious. The frequent dull, long winded descriptions of the most innane minutiae, which added nothing to the story served merely as page fillers. It seemed that the author was too absorbed in trying to convince everyone what a great writer she is rather than the truly talented authors who transport their readers into the story, enabling them to identify or at least believe in the characters and the plot. This book excelled at poorly developed, unsympathetic and utterly unbelievable characters for the mostpart. Lazy and ineffectual storytelling with elements introduced which were superfluous and confusing, for example, the cigarrette case. Other than being set in Salem, the witch angle was just a publicity and marketing stunt to garner a wider audience. If you like reading about witches...give this book a miss.
I'm happy to be left wondering at the end of a book between possible endings so long as the journey there has been interesting, compelling and expertly navigated. The only thing this book left me wondering was how it ever made it into print.
March 2, 2008
I'm going to say what quite a few other reviewers of this book on goodreads have said, and that's that I wanted to like this book more. It's not that I didn't like it...Julavits is a master of snarky, quick dialogue; this is a complex novel told from various perspectives that circle an incident in a teenage girl's life, and from a writerly standpoint I can only imagine she must have struggled to piece it together. I respect this book, is what I'm trying to say.
But. I felt a little toyed with. I suppose any book that examines the nature of truth and narrative — and therapy — might have to play on readers' ideas of what actually happened. None of the characters in this book is exactly what they might seem to be. But. I don't know, I felt dissatisfied with the ending. At the end, I remained, even after returning to earlier chapters to reread, confused about the roles of certain characters in the outcome. And I remained confused about the outcome. It was all a little too shadowy for me.
Still, like I said, I respect the complexity of this novel, the dialogue, the layered storytelling, the questioning of the idea of truth, the allusions to other works.
But. I felt a little toyed with. I suppose any book that examines the nature of truth and narrative — and therapy — might have to play on readers' ideas of what actually happened. None of the characters in this book is exactly what they might seem to be. But. I don't know, I felt dissatisfied with the ending. At the end, I remained, even after returning to earlier chapters to reread, confused about the roles of certain characters in the outcome. And I remained confused about the outcome. It was all a little too shadowy for me.
Still, like I said, I respect the complexity of this novel, the dialogue, the layered storytelling, the questioning of the idea of truth, the allusions to other works.
March 14, 2016
This is a review, a written assessment of a particular product—in this case a book—that is meant to highlight its strengths and inform others of its potential flaws. Reviews can be great: reviews can catch the attention of the consumers, they give tried and true evidence that a product is worth buying (or not buying). This is also the greatest flaw of a review. Send out a message again and again that a product is flawed and the consumers will stop buying, even if that product is truly great.
I first came across The Uses of Enchantment seven years ago while shelving books at the library. The cover enticed me immediately. The appearance of a hole burnt in the dust jacket, the colors, the beautiful hair, the font (great work on the cover of this one, cover designer peoples!) The novel's description completely pulled me in. Then I noticed other books by the same author on the shelf, and I read their descriptions and I knew, right then, I had found a new favorite author.
Except when I got home and added the book to my Goodreads there was a huge red flag: The Uses of Enchantment had a rating that was barely rising above 3.0. And Julavits' other books weren't doing much better. The reviews blasted the book; there were so many one to three star ratings. The reviews were peppered with phrases like “I hated this book” and “what a waste of time.” And so I did what any intelligent consumer would do—I put the book on my “I'll probably never read this, but I'll keep it on my shelf because it's so pretty” shelf. My putting aside this book had nothing to do with following the masses, it had to do with experience. When I look back at the books I have read which have the lowest overall ratings, I must say that I disliked most of them. Prior to The Uses of Enchantment, the only book with a rating less than 3.25 that I absolutely loved was Rowling's polarizing The Casual Vacancy. I had too many other “good” books to read to waste time on something I'd probably hate. Yet, that small voice of hope from seven years ago would nag at me occasionally, telling me I'd never know if I didn't give it a try. Finally, I gave in.
I'm not quite sure why I finally decided to give The Uses of Enchantment a go, but I'm glad I did. The book was phenomenal. It's possible that my super low expectations buoyed the book considerably, but I don't believe so; I think I would've liked this novel regardless of the reviews. First of all, the prose is amazing. Julavits writes with such beauty. I was reminded of two other authors whose work I enjoy but who also receive many poor reviews: Hannah Pittard and Meg Wolitzer. Perhaps there is something in the style of these authors that repulses some readers, but whatever it is, I want more of it. When I ponder the negative comments of others, and the complaints I personally disagree with, I think mostly of comments about “how boring” these works are, how “nothing happens,” or how “unresolved” they are. I would agree that not much happens in these books, and in the case of Pittard's first novel the lack of “anything” happening was the only barrier to a five-star review, but I would argue that enough happens, especially in the characters themselves. And perhaps that is the distinction here. Are these novel's largely character and language driven? I would say, yes. Apparently too much so for many readers. Personally, I find novels with absolutely no plot boring as well, but light plot is acceptable. Add some great character development and some wonderfully spun sentences and I'm hooked.
As far as the argument that The Uses of Enchantment is unresolved, I disagree. Does the reader get a clear answer as to what happened or didn't happen? No, not really. But I think it can be deduced what likely occurred, and this is good enough for me. Study the psychology of these characters, pay attention to this “wronged-woman project” the school participates in, and I think that not only does the “what might have happened” fall into place, but also the importance of it not mattering. The brilliance of the novel is in the not knowing. What about Dora? Mary is asking. What about Bettina Spencer? What about all of us women who have been wrongly accused? Does it matter if all our facts fall into line, or is it enough that we are simply hurting? That's what I walked away with anyhow. And I applaud Julavits for a well-orchestrated story.
So, take it from me, kids. Ratings can be good, but they also be a tool of the devil. I mean, come on, this poignant story of a confused adolescent girl is worth only 3.04 stars, but Twilight, a story about an adolescent girl who plays baseball with vampires because she's so disturbed, wracks up 3.56 stars? Heed the advice of a book snob: Ratings are of the devil!
I first came across The Uses of Enchantment seven years ago while shelving books at the library. The cover enticed me immediately. The appearance of a hole burnt in the dust jacket, the colors, the beautiful hair, the font (great work on the cover of this one, cover designer peoples!) The novel's description completely pulled me in. Then I noticed other books by the same author on the shelf, and I read their descriptions and I knew, right then, I had found a new favorite author.
Except when I got home and added the book to my Goodreads there was a huge red flag: The Uses of Enchantment had a rating that was barely rising above 3.0. And Julavits' other books weren't doing much better. The reviews blasted the book; there were so many one to three star ratings. The reviews were peppered with phrases like “I hated this book” and “what a waste of time.” And so I did what any intelligent consumer would do—I put the book on my “I'll probably never read this, but I'll keep it on my shelf because it's so pretty” shelf. My putting aside this book had nothing to do with following the masses, it had to do with experience. When I look back at the books I have read which have the lowest overall ratings, I must say that I disliked most of them. Prior to The Uses of Enchantment, the only book with a rating less than 3.25 that I absolutely loved was Rowling's polarizing The Casual Vacancy. I had too many other “good” books to read to waste time on something I'd probably hate. Yet, that small voice of hope from seven years ago would nag at me occasionally, telling me I'd never know if I didn't give it a try. Finally, I gave in.
I'm not quite sure why I finally decided to give The Uses of Enchantment a go, but I'm glad I did. The book was phenomenal. It's possible that my super low expectations buoyed the book considerably, but I don't believe so; I think I would've liked this novel regardless of the reviews. First of all, the prose is amazing. Julavits writes with such beauty. I was reminded of two other authors whose work I enjoy but who also receive many poor reviews: Hannah Pittard and Meg Wolitzer. Perhaps there is something in the style of these authors that repulses some readers, but whatever it is, I want more of it. When I ponder the negative comments of others, and the complaints I personally disagree with, I think mostly of comments about “how boring” these works are, how “nothing happens,” or how “unresolved” they are. I would agree that not much happens in these books, and in the case of Pittard's first novel the lack of “anything” happening was the only barrier to a five-star review, but I would argue that enough happens, especially in the characters themselves. And perhaps that is the distinction here. Are these novel's largely character and language driven? I would say, yes. Apparently too much so for many readers. Personally, I find novels with absolutely no plot boring as well, but light plot is acceptable. Add some great character development and some wonderfully spun sentences and I'm hooked.
As far as the argument that The Uses of Enchantment is unresolved, I disagree. Does the reader get a clear answer as to what happened or didn't happen? No, not really. But I think it can be deduced what likely occurred, and this is good enough for me. Study the psychology of these characters, pay attention to this “wronged-woman project” the school participates in, and I think that not only does the “what might have happened” fall into place, but also the importance of it not mattering. The brilliance of the novel is in the not knowing. What about Dora? Mary is asking. What about Bettina Spencer? What about all of us women who have been wrongly accused? Does it matter if all our facts fall into line, or is it enough that we are simply hurting? That's what I walked away with anyhow. And I applaud Julavits for a well-orchestrated story.
So, take it from me, kids. Ratings can be good, but they also be a tool of the devil. I mean, come on, this poignant story of a confused adolescent girl is worth only 3.04 stars, but Twilight, a story about an adolescent girl who plays baseball with vampires because she's so disturbed, wracks up 3.56 stars? Heed the advice of a book snob: Ratings are of the devil!
March 26, 2008
This book made me feel somewhat uncomfortable and frankly there were times when I just wanted to put it down and never look at it again. It offers up a number of questions and then throws out several answers to them, all of which are seemingly rejected by Julavits through her characters. I kept expecting a breakthrough that never came, an answer that was ultimately never provided... and I don't mean an answer as in a "whodunit," I mean an answer like, what does she suggest that her characters do now that they're in this crazy situation she's put them in? Basically, the takeaway is, they're all fucked. Therapy doesn't work, suburbia warps girls, sisters hate each other, drinking leads to more problems, guys want to take advantage of girls or somehow take advantage of them by NOT taking advantage of them. I guess I probably should have expected this after reading The Effects of Living Backwards.
As in Backwards, the male characters in this book are universally awful people, totally unlikable.
And yet, somehow, I sort of liked it and have actually recommended it to people.
As in Backwards, the male characters in this book are universally awful people, totally unlikable.
And yet, somehow, I sort of liked it and have actually recommended it to people.
February 1, 2008
The book's premise intrigued me. A girl may or may not have faked her own abduction, and if she faked her own abduction, she may have been inspired by another girl, who attended the same school earlier.
The book has three timelines--the "present day" of 1999, the 1986 post-return to her family, and "what may have happened". Each chapter focuses on one timeline, and these timelines alternate, each informing your experience of the other, sometimes a little too neatly.
The author follows the current trend of writing about unlikable characters. Each has their own agendas and dysfunctions. Some try to forge connections, while others feel them accidentally or use them for personal gain.
I couldn't help but feel sorry for the main character Mary by book's end. She's confused about her past. Everyone pressures her to shape her story according to their needs. She's told so many lies that she isn't sure of the truth fully anymore.
Her mother raised her to play games. The two of them couldn't ever communicate directly. Hints, clues, and subterfuge were the norm before and after the kidnapping. These games last beyond Mary's mother's death.
Her therapist Dr. Hammer exploits Mary's story until it becomes not about her, but about a new theory he hopes will make his name. He publishes a book that uses only the bits of Mary's story that support his theory. I was reminded of a similar subplot used on "Six Feet Under".
The author weakens the book by not confusing the reader. I assumed the "what may have happened" chapters were not supposed to be taken as totally truthful, but while Mary felt confused, I never did. Those chapters explained the other timelines too well not to be true.
These chapters help propel the book to its conclusion. All the loose ends are tied up, but they are not important. Instead it's Mary and her vulnerability and need that remain more potent than the book's "mystery". What means will some girls choose in order to get some much needed attention and love?
The book has three timelines--the "present day" of 1999, the 1986 post-return to her family, and "what may have happened". Each chapter focuses on one timeline, and these timelines alternate, each informing your experience of the other, sometimes a little too neatly.
The author follows the current trend of writing about unlikable characters. Each has their own agendas and dysfunctions. Some try to forge connections, while others feel them accidentally or use them for personal gain.
I couldn't help but feel sorry for the main character Mary by book's end. She's confused about her past. Everyone pressures her to shape her story according to their needs. She's told so many lies that she isn't sure of the truth fully anymore.
Her mother raised her to play games. The two of them couldn't ever communicate directly. Hints, clues, and subterfuge were the norm before and after the kidnapping. These games last beyond Mary's mother's death.
Her therapist Dr. Hammer exploits Mary's story until it becomes not about her, but about a new theory he hopes will make his name. He publishes a book that uses only the bits of Mary's story that support his theory. I was reminded of a similar subplot used on "Six Feet Under".
The author weakens the book by not confusing the reader. I assumed the "what may have happened" chapters were not supposed to be taken as totally truthful, but while Mary felt confused, I never did. Those chapters explained the other timelines too well not to be true.
These chapters help propel the book to its conclusion. All the loose ends are tied up, but they are not important. Instead it's Mary and her vulnerability and need that remain more potent than the book's "mystery". What means will some girls choose in order to get some much needed attention and love?
May 4, 2011
There are a lot of things I despised about this book, and a few things I liked. As a literary endeavor it's solid. It kept my brain entertained and kept me questioning, it felt confusing at points and smart and dreamy at others. It functions somewhat as a giant questioning of whether or not therapy is, as an exercise, a pile of bullshit. Which is an entertaining question for anyone who has ever bothered to visit a therapist for any length of time. But: the fixation on what *might* have happened, on what *may* have been, gets tiresome. At some point, the cloying game of what the story actually is, gets old, and the shiny cleverness wears thin. I think my tolerance for this is especially low, so the aspects of it that I despised could very well point towards my own shortcomings as a reader and general bias against narrative trickery for the sake of narrative trickery. The narration bounces back and forth between therapist and patient with interludes of the actual story, or what the reader is supposed to assume is actual story, and although I appreciate the questions of identity and truth that necessarily come barelling out of this, it felt kind of...cheap. I began to suspect that it served as a way of avoiding having to delve to deeply. What really happened to Mary? At about the two-thirds mark of the book I realized I had sort of stopped caring, and was continuing to read it for the atmosphere - the heavy descriptions of new england - and for the neurotic, intense, screwy family dynamics. The two sisters, Regina and Gaby, felt like they'd just tumbled from an Austen novel, and were fantastic. And drunk, floundering Mary was my favorite.
January 11, 2013
This is an unusual puzzle of a novel. It's narrated in alternate sections, two of which are in the past, one in the novel's present. The writing is beautiful, but incredibly subtle and requires attention. It's the story of a woman dealing with the estrangement of her family, resulting from her possible abduction when she was a teenager. I found it to be equal parts fascinating and infuriating. Okay, maybe a smidge more infuriating. Freud references and family dysfunction are rampant in this novel. Questions are raised about the consequences of self-involvement, manipulation and indirect communication. Rarely does anyone say what they mean and you are often left questioning if they mean what they say. Ultimately, the reader, like the characters, never gets to know the exact truth of the events that occur, but that's not really the point. In the end, the truth itself is less important than the result of the lies we tell ourselves and others.
June 1, 2010
The premise of this novel is what drew me in (a girl goes missing and reappears weeks later...claiming no recollection of what happened to her). The strong writing and the alternating perspectives/narratives (the girl now grown up, "What Might Have Happened," and the therapist's notes) were what kept me reading. But ultimately, the characters were miserable people. Every last one of them. And, all of the labyrinthine twists and turns ultimately lead me right back to where I started, I felt disappointed.
April 6, 2010
Wow. I really hated this book. Not a single character is in any way likable or sympathetic. The only reason I kept reading was out of a vague desire to discover the "truth" -- Was Mary Veal actually abducted many years ago or did she make it all up? The endless psychobabble and unrealistic sessions with her therapist were tiring and boring. Bleck. Don't waste your time with this one.
May 9, 2020
I was not excited by the premise of this novel, but Julavits proved to be such a skillful author and so acutely aware of the demands of her material that my forebodings of a trite "did she/did she not" potboiler proved thoroughly misplaced. I am not saying that her psychoanalytic acumen is clinically impeccable or theoretically robust, but it is more than serviceable for the purposes of this captivating novel. A far cry from the type of mawkish "confused young girl frets and scares her parents" trope I feared, what Julavits illuminates is a literary prism shot through with hues of restless adolescence, unspeakable desire, and inadmissible fantasy all bleeding together in the spectrum of narrative, memory, truth, and power. The moral of the story is not that we need to get the facts straight to punish the guilty and exonerate the innocent; to my mind, it takes the form of something never articulated as such but that I think captures the sickening plunge experienced whenever anyone encounters a lack in the other where we presumed a shared and consoling knowledge dwelt:
"Apparently you were imagining everything that happened completely differently than me."
"Apparently you were imagining everything that happened completely differently than me."
February 3, 2025
Wow this book was honestly painful to get through for me. I loved the concepts it was going for - unreliable narrators, trust/distrust, female sexuality, etc - but it all got lost and bogged down by so much needless and exhausting description of nothing at all. It just kept feeling like the book was so into its concepts to the point of being lazy on execution. Half the time I didn’t get what was happening. Wish the author had kept things simpler instead of getting caught up in its pretensions.
July 25, 2018
This had some fascinating moments, and Julavits really digs into the complicated ways that people think about sex, power and truth. It all got a bit bogged down in the therapy stuff for me though - my Freud knowledge is lacking and it felt like a bunch of this was going over my head.
September 2, 2017
The Uses of Uncertainty
In 1900, for eleven weeks, Sigmund Freud met with a teenage girl stricken by hysterical mutism. We know this woman by the name Freud gave her, Dora. It wasn’t her real name. Precipitating the symptoms, she had accused an older family friend of making sexual advances to her. The family friend denied it and her father didn’t believe her.
When Dora began to talk, she claimed that her father was having an affair with the friend’s wife. She believed she was being palmed off in return. By being receptive to her take on things, Freud helped Dora find her voice. If they had stopped there, it would have been a successful therapy; but Freud began to press her to accept her own part in the soap opera. He believed she had sexual feelings for the family friend. At that point, she stopped going to see Freud; cutting short her treatment. He went on to write a book about her, Fragments of an Analysis of a Case of Hysteria, making her case study the cornerstone of his theory of the unconscious.
The case of Dora has been debated ever since, particularly by those of a feminist persuasion who point to Freud as an example of phallocentric cluelessness. To accuse Dora of having sexual feelings, at the age of 14, for an older man who was molesting her, they say, is the height of insensitivity and tactlessness, not to mention a support of patriarchy.
The novelist, Heidi Julavits, fictionalizes this case, setting it near Salem, Massachusetts in the 1970s, in her book, The Uses of Enchantment. Her protagonist is a teenage girl in a field hockey uniform who is abducted by an older man. Or maybe she just climbs in his car and talks him into driving her around. We never know. She actually doesn’t remember, having confused herself by the stories told about her by herself and about herself. She goes into therapy with a therapist looking to make a name for himself. He does what Freud does; he doesn’t believe her either and exploits her story in a book, using her as the cornerstone of his new theory.
If all this sounds complicated, it is. The Uses of Enchantment is complex, multifaceted prism of a novel. As if the central narrative wasn’t difficult enough, Julavits adds layers of meaning and significance. There’s a mother who dies, not wanting to see her daughter. There’s the history of the Salem Witch trials, another example of marginalized women. There’s a competitive relationship between the sisters, as well as between two therapists. There are so many things to consider in this novel it’s no wonder the protagonist forgot what the truth was; the reader certainly does. It’s a brave thing for a novelist to confuse her readers. It won’t be everyone’s cup of tea.
Julavits’ book got me thinking about the role of certainty in the course of therapy. Most patients start therapy feeling pretty confused. The wife who doesn’t know whether she wants to stay married. The man who wants to stop drinking, until he comes upon the beer aisle at the grocery store. The anxious person who wants to know what’s going to happen. The depressed person who doesn’t know what she wants. The young man hearing voices, who doesn’t know what to believe. If they can settle on a story about their distress that makes sense to them and is affirmed by their therapist, they start to feel better. This is what Freud did for Dora, at first. Her loss of voice was symptomatic of her uncertainty. When Freud accepted her story on face value, she didn’t need to be mute anymore. She had what we call truth on her side.
The problem is, as Freud knew well, certainty is an insecure foundation upon which to build a life. Good therapy brings a client from uncertainty to a state of certainty. Great therapy goes back again. It is far more valuable for a therapist to help his client build up a tolerance for uncertainty because something will always come along to wash certainty away.
There is nothing better for building up a tolerance for uncertainty than to spend some time in psychoanalysis. Psychoanalysts say a lot of things, but nothing with any degree of certainty. It’s all theory; untestable theory, at that. Examining unconscious motivations only brings up more questions. It’s not every client’s cup of tea. It certainly wasn’t Dora’s.
If you would like to get better at tolerating uncertainty, but can’t afford psychoanalysis, then I recommend Julavits’ novel. When you finish The Uses of Enchantment, you may not know what happened in the book, but you’ll know how the memory of our events is linked to the stories we want to tell about them.
Keith Wilson writes on mental health and relationship issues on his blog, Madness 101
In 1900, for eleven weeks, Sigmund Freud met with a teenage girl stricken by hysterical mutism. We know this woman by the name Freud gave her, Dora. It wasn’t her real name. Precipitating the symptoms, she had accused an older family friend of making sexual advances to her. The family friend denied it and her father didn’t believe her.
When Dora began to talk, she claimed that her father was having an affair with the friend’s wife. She believed she was being palmed off in return. By being receptive to her take on things, Freud helped Dora find her voice. If they had stopped there, it would have been a successful therapy; but Freud began to press her to accept her own part in the soap opera. He believed she had sexual feelings for the family friend. At that point, she stopped going to see Freud; cutting short her treatment. He went on to write a book about her, Fragments of an Analysis of a Case of Hysteria, making her case study the cornerstone of his theory of the unconscious.
The case of Dora has been debated ever since, particularly by those of a feminist persuasion who point to Freud as an example of phallocentric cluelessness. To accuse Dora of having sexual feelings, at the age of 14, for an older man who was molesting her, they say, is the height of insensitivity and tactlessness, not to mention a support of patriarchy.
The novelist, Heidi Julavits, fictionalizes this case, setting it near Salem, Massachusetts in the 1970s, in her book, The Uses of Enchantment. Her protagonist is a teenage girl in a field hockey uniform who is abducted by an older man. Or maybe she just climbs in his car and talks him into driving her around. We never know. She actually doesn’t remember, having confused herself by the stories told about her by herself and about herself. She goes into therapy with a therapist looking to make a name for himself. He does what Freud does; he doesn’t believe her either and exploits her story in a book, using her as the cornerstone of his new theory.
If all this sounds complicated, it is. The Uses of Enchantment is complex, multifaceted prism of a novel. As if the central narrative wasn’t difficult enough, Julavits adds layers of meaning and significance. There’s a mother who dies, not wanting to see her daughter. There’s the history of the Salem Witch trials, another example of marginalized women. There’s a competitive relationship between the sisters, as well as between two therapists. There are so many things to consider in this novel it’s no wonder the protagonist forgot what the truth was; the reader certainly does. It’s a brave thing for a novelist to confuse her readers. It won’t be everyone’s cup of tea.
Julavits’ book got me thinking about the role of certainty in the course of therapy. Most patients start therapy feeling pretty confused. The wife who doesn’t know whether she wants to stay married. The man who wants to stop drinking, until he comes upon the beer aisle at the grocery store. The anxious person who wants to know what’s going to happen. The depressed person who doesn’t know what she wants. The young man hearing voices, who doesn’t know what to believe. If they can settle on a story about their distress that makes sense to them and is affirmed by their therapist, they start to feel better. This is what Freud did for Dora, at first. Her loss of voice was symptomatic of her uncertainty. When Freud accepted her story on face value, she didn’t need to be mute anymore. She had what we call truth on her side.
The problem is, as Freud knew well, certainty is an insecure foundation upon which to build a life. Good therapy brings a client from uncertainty to a state of certainty. Great therapy goes back again. It is far more valuable for a therapist to help his client build up a tolerance for uncertainty because something will always come along to wash certainty away.
There is nothing better for building up a tolerance for uncertainty than to spend some time in psychoanalysis. Psychoanalysts say a lot of things, but nothing with any degree of certainty. It’s all theory; untestable theory, at that. Examining unconscious motivations only brings up more questions. It’s not every client’s cup of tea. It certainly wasn’t Dora’s.
If you would like to get better at tolerating uncertainty, but can’t afford psychoanalysis, then I recommend Julavits’ novel. When you finish The Uses of Enchantment, you may not know what happened in the book, but you’ll know how the memory of our events is linked to the stories we want to tell about them.
Keith Wilson writes on mental health and relationship issues on his blog, Madness 101
August 4, 2018
1st read, 2006
2nd read, 2018
2nd read, 2018
November 20, 2012
I experienced great difficulty getting traction in this book. The characters are all sort of bitchy and bland, cyphers of possibility -- rather like the made-up life, going on behind closed curtains in the windows of the taupe-colored boxes found in the suburbs that the novel explores. Life in the suburbs is too difficult, too gentrified, too non-existent for these characters. Some try and escape through imagination (coupled with burgeoning sexual awakenings): a daughter must engineer her kidnapping to experience real life, ie a life that is nothing like the doldrums of home decor or cocktail parties. A housewife must destroy / rewrite her daughter's virtue while also destroying/ rewriting the virtue of an ancestor accused of being a witch. A therapist must deconstruct one narrative for the sake of another, more profitable one.
In the process, what a clusterfuck of emotional subjugation. Sister at the throat of sister, emotionally distanced father avoiding the impending reality of single life, drunk aunt...no one knows how to communicate because they are all speaking different languages, some wildly imaginative and others mired in the suburban banal. The characters purposefully miscommunicate to avoid real interaction, or use the top dresser drawer to place items for discussion. What a draining experience for the reader that, once lived, makes this really hard territory to cover.
Overall, while emotional truth (or the denial thereof) is ever-present in her work, Julavits takes an "everything and the kitchen sink" approach here. That narrative bloat does no favors, with characters easily cut or sequence of events streamlined with the same result: Mary is told she's average and, in her attempts to be more than average -- to please her parents or to prove a point -- finds herself further rewritten or dismissed when she steps out of line. Parents don't control their children forever, and Mary is the child who undoes that assumed and very comfortable reign of her emotionally abusive and inconsiderate parents. What, if any, other fate could await Mary except to be written as the family villain? And therein lies the selective emotional editing of life in the American family, something to which we are all victims, male or female, young or old, urban or suburban.
In the process, what a clusterfuck of emotional subjugation. Sister at the throat of sister, emotionally distanced father avoiding the impending reality of single life, drunk aunt...no one knows how to communicate because they are all speaking different languages, some wildly imaginative and others mired in the suburban banal. The characters purposefully miscommunicate to avoid real interaction, or use the top dresser drawer to place items for discussion. What a draining experience for the reader that, once lived, makes this really hard territory to cover.
Overall, while emotional truth (or the denial thereof) is ever-present in her work, Julavits takes an "everything and the kitchen sink" approach here. That narrative bloat does no favors, with characters easily cut or sequence of events streamlined with the same result: Mary is told she's average and, in her attempts to be more than average -- to please her parents or to prove a point -- finds herself further rewritten or dismissed when she steps out of line. Parents don't control their children forever, and Mary is the child who undoes that assumed and very comfortable reign of her emotionally abusive and inconsiderate parents. What, if any, other fate could await Mary except to be written as the family villain? And therein lies the selective emotional editing of life in the American family, something to which we are all victims, male or female, young or old, urban or suburban.
October 5, 2012
I was not impressed with this book -- not the story, not the prose, not the structure. A friend recommended the author (albeit a different book) so I think I started with a favorable attitude.
The story is told in three parts about a girl, Mary, who seems to be an average middle child with strange psychological problems possibly due to neglect and lack of attention: the first segment is told from Mary's adult perspective as she comes to terms with her mother's death, the second voice is a narrator describing the events that might have occurred when Mary was a teenager, the last voice is that of the psychologist who treat's Mary during those teenage years. The event that is pivotal to the story is that in her teenage years , Mary disappears and then suddenly reappears. The possible scenarios include: Mary is a disturbed child who imagines the whole episode so that she can gain some attention, or she really was kidnapped and raped, or she manipulates a morally-weak man to fake kidnap her so she can explore her sexuality. There is no question that Mary is severely warped and her family, namely mother, has serious issues that damage her psychologically.
So the book is dealing with complex plot since the story is told simultaneously in these three parts and it isn't clear what the true events were. we know that the adult Mary is grappling with feelings of guilt and suffers because she was never formally forgiven or shown love from her late mother. Her psychological state ,past and present, may be interesting ... but it is mainly just annoying. The unfolding of the story may build suspense... but it is just boring and redundant.
I feel like I wasted time reading this book and so I am now laying this sick and twisted, yet thoroughly stale, book to rest.
The story is told in three parts about a girl, Mary, who seems to be an average middle child with strange psychological problems possibly due to neglect and lack of attention: the first segment is told from Mary's adult perspective as she comes to terms with her mother's death, the second voice is a narrator describing the events that might have occurred when Mary was a teenager, the last voice is that of the psychologist who treat's Mary during those teenage years. The event that is pivotal to the story is that in her teenage years , Mary disappears and then suddenly reappears. The possible scenarios include: Mary is a disturbed child who imagines the whole episode so that she can gain some attention, or she really was kidnapped and raped, or she manipulates a morally-weak man to fake kidnap her so she can explore her sexuality. There is no question that Mary is severely warped and her family, namely mother, has serious issues that damage her psychologically.
So the book is dealing with complex plot since the story is told simultaneously in these three parts and it isn't clear what the true events were. we know that the adult Mary is grappling with feelings of guilt and suffers because she was never formally forgiven or shown love from her late mother. Her psychological state ,past and present, may be interesting ... but it is mainly just annoying. The unfolding of the story may build suspense... but it is just boring and redundant.
I feel like I wasted time reading this book and so I am now laying this sick and twisted, yet thoroughly stale, book to rest.
October 10, 2013
A girl disappears for a few weeks. She returns, and the story she has to explain her disappearance is pretty far-fetched. Her sisters don't believe her and resent her because they think it's a ploy for her to get attention.
But as this story alternates between the "present" (in which the main character is an adult and her mother has just died, bringing the sisters back together) and the past, when she was abducted (if you can call it that), I begin to wonder if I really am reading the words of a reliable narrator.
And as I'm debating her trustworthiness, it occurs to me that of course she's lying, this whole thing is a lie, it's all a work of fiction. But oh, in the context of this story, is she telling the truth? What would be the most believable course of events given the set of facts I was provided with?
And thus I become another character in the story, deciding what story I want to believe, who is influencing whom and who is to blame and who has legitimate feelings and who is lying to themselves. And then I go read it over again and I can make different decisions about who I want to believe and that changes the story.
And this is why I love Heidi Julavits. Her books aren't a stagnant story. They worm their way into your mind, and what you think influences how the story goes.
But as this story alternates between the "present" (in which the main character is an adult and her mother has just died, bringing the sisters back together) and the past, when she was abducted (if you can call it that), I begin to wonder if I really am reading the words of a reliable narrator.
And as I'm debating her trustworthiness, it occurs to me that of course she's lying, this whole thing is a lie, it's all a work of fiction. But oh, in the context of this story, is she telling the truth? What would be the most believable course of events given the set of facts I was provided with?
And thus I become another character in the story, deciding what story I want to believe, who is influencing whom and who is to blame and who has legitimate feelings and who is lying to themselves. And then I go read it over again and I can make different decisions about who I want to believe and that changes the story.
And this is why I love Heidi Julavits. Her books aren't a stagnant story. They worm their way into your mind, and what you think influences how the story goes.
May 28, 2007
The Uses of Enchantment tells the story of a middle-class suburban teenager, Mary Veal, who mysteriously disappears. When she turns up after a couple of months, she is taken under the wing of a therapist who determines that she faked her own abduction, and writes a book about this "syndrome" in adolescent girls. The story is told from different perspectives--that of the therapist, the present-day teenager (now in her 30s), and chapters entitled "What Might Have Happened," which recount the abduction (or do they?). There is also a parallel story of a teenager abducted in the 1970s under similar circumstances, and another one about a Salem witch. What actually happened is never made clear, which I guess is much of the point, but so frustrating! I'm not opposed to ambiguity in plot, and under certain circumstances find it refreshing, but there was so much ambiguity here that it obscured the story. Although Julavits is great at description, there is also some uneveness in tone, and I found some of the dialogue (exchanges with her sisters, in particular) excruciating. I have no sisters and therefore no personal experience upon which to judge, so perhaps talking to them is excruciating? All in all, an ambitious novel with some rough patches.
December 6, 2022
This book had so much potential.
Although it took me more weeks to finish this than any other previous book, it was still very well-written and well defined. Quite original, really.
There are three perspectives to this story: one from 'what might have happened', one from the present, and one from another character's perspective.
The story is recounted from Mary Veal. The 'what might have happened' portions detail an event that occurred to Mary at age 16.
The present is also recounted from Mary, now as an adult, nearly 14 years later.
The second character involved in the third perspective is her psychologist, who is helping the teenage Mary deal with the event that occurred to her.
All of this would be very very good if much of the story tied up what really happened. Mary as a teenager is a very different person than she is as an adult and really, there is no explanation as to why that is. There is no real explanation what really happened to Mary and what she had been up to the past nineteen years.
In the end, there was confusion in what occurs that I don't bother trying to re-read anything to get a better understanding. I am just relieved to have it finish so that I can continue on the next one.
Although it took me more weeks to finish this than any other previous book, it was still very well-written and well defined. Quite original, really.
There are three perspectives to this story: one from 'what might have happened', one from the present, and one from another character's perspective.
The story is recounted from Mary Veal. The 'what might have happened' portions detail an event that occurred to Mary at age 16.
The present is also recounted from Mary, now as an adult, nearly 14 years later.
The second character involved in the third perspective is her psychologist, who is helping the teenage Mary deal with the event that occurred to her.
All of this would be very very good if much of the story tied up what really happened. Mary as a teenager is a very different person than she is as an adult and really, there is no explanation as to why that is. There is no real explanation what really happened to Mary and what she had been up to the past nineteen years.
In the end, there was confusion in what occurs that I don't bother trying to re-read anything to get a better understanding. I am just relieved to have it finish so that I can continue on the next one.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
March 24, 2019
Maybe I am just impervious to the symbolic nature of this book, but I thought that the author tried way too hard. I got the feeling that it was supposed to be meaningful, eye opening, powerful, metaphorical... something that made each of us blink in astonishment as we discovered something deep within ourselves. Like I said, I think this was MEANT to be that book. Instead, it just didn't make sense. I kept reading it, hoping for a payoff. I keep hoping and hoping that it would mean something, that suddenly every cryptic page would come full circle to some profound meaning- instead, I read the last page and immediately became furious that all 300 pages of this book were a waste of my time. There isn't much of a story- just a collection of memories both past and present. There's very little meaning, very little revealed, and frankly I can't believe I spent hours reading this. It had potential, and the writing itself wasn't horrible. But the story was a like a meandering search for some sort of profound truth that is never found.
November 6, 2007
Brilliant!!! I enjoyed this novel very much. The author has such a fresh writing style. The story was complex yet written in a way that made reading it a joy. I was able to relate to many aspects of the story on a very personal level, especially Mary's (the main character) relationships with her mother and her sisters. I found it very interesting that Mary felt she was "invisible" and so arranged her "abduction" to basically get attention. Even much later, in her thirties she still had a sense of being "invisible".
Overall, I found it an interesting and fun read. I had a very hard time putting it down.
Overall, I found it an interesting and fun read. I had a very hard time putting it down.
September 29, 2008
sucked real bad (this book does not even warrant the use of proper grammer (or spelling) in my review)
This book was so amazingly boring I still don't know why I finished it. I was hoping it would get better. Don't expect to find out what happens to the main character because you never will. The chapters written from the point of view of her psychiatrist are especially boring if you have no background in that area, because you will have no idea what he is talking about.
If you like to waste time, read this book.
This book was so amazingly boring I still don't know why I finished it. I was hoping it would get better. Don't expect to find out what happens to the main character because you never will. The chapters written from the point of view of her psychiatrist are especially boring if you have no background in that area, because you will have no idea what he is talking about.
If you like to waste time, read this book.
June 2, 2017
Oh. My. Good. Ness. Was it every going to end? I kept hoping for some resolutions, and none came. This is in my stack of books I should never have stuck out. It joins Donna Tartt's The Goldfinch, which I did finish, and The Little Friend, which I realized was going to be just like The Goldfinch, and returned to the library quickly.
The Uses of Enchantment was physically difficult to read — something to do with the type that was chosen. It was very light, and since I read at night before bed, when my wife turned off her light, I struggled to read this book.
I have nothing good to say about this book. Did I miss something in the dim light? I don't think so. The author created wordiness as if we didn't catch the drift of thought, conversation or actions. It's like we had to be told how to feel or react to a situation. Odd. When this happened, I wanted to say "OK, I get it. Move along." I kept turning the pages though.
The language almost felt like it was written 100 years ago. In Britain. A little pretentious sounding, although the words were not particularly of a high level. (I've got a story and you don't, so I'll tell it until I bore you to tears. I'm going to almost tell you a story. Then you can guess what I was telling you about. I got the impression that the author was showing off. Freudian psychology. Throw it around. I don't care.)
So why did I finish it. I had hoped all along it would get better, and I would learn the secrets of young Mary and older Mary. Nothing. It was unresolved. I think I'll read more of the reviews and see if I can gain any insight or if others felt like I do.
The Uses of Enchantment was physically difficult to read — something to do with the type that was chosen. It was very light, and since I read at night before bed, when my wife turned off her light, I struggled to read this book.
I have nothing good to say about this book. Did I miss something in the dim light? I don't think so. The author created wordiness as if we didn't catch the drift of thought, conversation or actions. It's like we had to be told how to feel or react to a situation. Odd. When this happened, I wanted to say "OK, I get it. Move along." I kept turning the pages though.
The language almost felt like it was written 100 years ago. In Britain. A little pretentious sounding, although the words were not particularly of a high level. (I've got a story and you don't, so I'll tell it until I bore you to tears. I'm going to almost tell you a story. Then you can guess what I was telling you about. I got the impression that the author was showing off. Freudian psychology. Throw it around. I don't care.)
So why did I finish it. I had hoped all along it would get better, and I would learn the secrets of young Mary and older Mary. Nothing. It was unresolved. I think I'll read more of the reviews and see if I can gain any insight or if others felt like I do.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
September 16, 2018
This book feels like it borders on surrealism at times, which in fairness, MIGHT be a bit of hyperbole on my part. But if you've read it, you get why one might be tempted to view it that way.
There's a balance to be drawn in making a reader work to learn a character's motivations, but not making them work too much. This one falls a bit too far on the latter side of the spectrum. After 356 pages, I'm still not sure I understand what makes Mary tick, or "K", or Mary's mother, and my "understanding" of the mental health professionals involved isn't based on much confidence either.
I seem to be in the minority on this based on most of the reviews, but I actually found the patient-therapist exchanges to be the best parts. Maybe it's because they're pure literary gold, maybe it's because they just seemed like a great relief from the overly-descriptive passages that permeated the rest of the novel, or maybe it's a combination of both. Ultimately, I did care to find out the truth about what happened, and what was driving each individual character. Having reached the ending, in retrospect, I just can't say for sure if I cared ENOUGH to give this one more than three stars.
Oh, and (bleep) you Aunt Helen. Take Umbrage! :-)
There's a balance to be drawn in making a reader work to learn a character's motivations, but not making them work too much. This one falls a bit too far on the latter side of the spectrum. After 356 pages, I'm still not sure I understand what makes Mary tick, or "K", or Mary's mother, and my "understanding" of the mental health professionals involved isn't based on much confidence either.
I seem to be in the minority on this based on most of the reviews, but I actually found the patient-therapist exchanges to be the best parts. Maybe it's because they're pure literary gold, maybe it's because they just seemed like a great relief from the overly-descriptive passages that permeated the rest of the novel, or maybe it's a combination of both. Ultimately, I did care to find out the truth about what happened, and what was driving each individual character. Having reached the ending, in retrospect, I just can't say for sure if I cared ENOUGH to give this one more than three stars.
Oh, and (bleep) you Aunt Helen. Take Umbrage! :-)
November 20, 2023
3/5 STARS! The premise of this sounded so interesting & enticing. I expected a thriller, some good true crime type stuff. But this was totally not that. I know the author probably had a lot of fun piecing this together, & I did enjoy the styke of it. Very uniquely done. But, when it came dowb to the characters, I hated all of them! They were so flat and boring. The mystery did keep me reading just to see what happened, but I found myself hating the "Notes" chapters from the therapist, it was much too smart for me. The dialogue is also super clunky too, so i wouldn't call this an easy read. Requires a ton of concentration. The actual meaning of this was also lost to me, was it an abduction, a mother-daughter/family drama, or a witchs curse tale? It had a little too much going on for it that did not all blend well enough to justify it. Also, I didnt really understand the ending, & what really happened. Totally went over my head.
I will say, this is not for everybody, but I did enjoy it in a very weird, have to keep reading just to see how it ends kind of way.
I will say, this is not for everybody, but I did enjoy it in a very weird, have to keep reading just to see how it ends kind of way.
October 23, 2023
I first read this book many years ago and had since forgotten most of it but remained intrigued; I decided to read it again. What was I thinking back then?
It felt like the author got out her thesaurus and tried her best to use the word the least amount of people would use. I kept a running list of all the ridiculous word choices. And the language used in the conversations was so stilted and bland I skipped over much of it.
I hate that everything was left so up in the air. I do appreciate ambiguity in a story but this left way too much up to the reader in my opinion.
It felt like the author got out her thesaurus and tried her best to use the word the least amount of people would use. I kept a running list of all the ridiculous word choices. And the language used in the conversations was so stilted and bland I skipped over much of it.
I hate that everything was left so up in the air. I do appreciate ambiguity in a story but this left way too much up to the reader in my opinion.
July 31, 2017
Quite masterfully written, with sentences of such wit and snap that laughed out loud more than once. But the nested narrative structure of this tale, with characters telling stories about how we make up stories about what we can't tell stories about? Plus the meta-narrative chapters titled "What Might Have Happened"? Ugh. It all rendered the novel fatally ungrounded and theoretical to me, similar to the way that some of A.M. Holmes' work sails right off the rails into contrivance and bloodless cruelty.
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