Erskine Preston Caldwell was an American author. His writings about poverty, racism and social problems in his native South won him critical acclaim, but they also made him controversial among fellow Southerners of the time who felt he was holding the region up to ridicule. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Erskine_...
This is the story of a young woman called Annette. All she wanted was to have children and be a mother. She married her childhood sweetheart Wayne. Wayne unfortunately died, but, made Annette promise she would re marry and have children. This she did, but, was not aware fully of her husbands views on parenthood.
Like with other stories, Caldwell focuses on a very short time frame in a person’s life. In this case, the few hours after Annette decides to leave her husband (Doan). She sets off to visit her friend Evelyn to seek her help. Throughout her journey we get snippets and glimpses into her early life, relationships and loves.
On one side, it is very refreshing to have a Caldwell Story without priests, alcohol, incest and so forth. However, in part this story was quite an uncomfortable read. You kind of suspected what may happen, and shocked when it didn’t. In this story, you do get the underlying issue of sex, one of Caldwell’s ‘go to’ subjects. What he did focus on and made it ‘uncomfortable’ is how disgusting some men are and can be.
After a while, you suspect how the book would end, sure enough it ended the way you would think. Alas, in the conclusion/ concluding chapters, it fails to sum up the point and moral of the story, hence a lower starred rating. Overall, a very quick easy read, read in 2 days.
I don’t know how better to characterize this novel than to use the famous quote from Lewis Carroll’s Alice in Wonderland. Why do I say that? Because—from my reading, at least, to date—Erskine Caldwell doesn’t write about the middle class. And yet, every character in Annette is just that: middle-class.
Why—you might justifiably ask—would I introduce a review with “curiouser and curiouser,” then award it five stars? Quite simply, because Caldwell manages to insert his usual tension, then maintain it on every page. And that tension, that threat to the character whose name gives the title to this novel, is no less real for being middle-class, for taking place in a distinctly middle-class setting, and for containing dialogue and actions that can only be described as belonging to the middle class.
Lacking any sort of context, the following paragraph (on p. 166) may not provide you with an ideal illustration of what I’m suggesting here. But perhaps it will help to mention that Annette, having already been terrified earlier in the evening by the son of a doctor whose anonymous front-door bell she rang in the hope she could get access to a telephone and, thereby, an emergency rescue by her best friend, now finds herself at the end of a kind of “lovers’ lane” in a desolate part of town—the hour being well past midnight—with that best friend’s husband. “Looking around her in the semidarkness of the park, Annette was surprised that she did not feel as frightened as she thought she would be. Just as it had been at the doctor’s house, she had the feeling that it would be useless for her to struggle alone against what was bound to happen, and that only somebody like Randy or Carl would be able to help her. It was as if she could hear Wayne talking to her and saying there is nobody more helpless and forsaken than a young woman abandoned by fate and left to be at the mercy of the world.”
Yes, one might suggest that Caldwell is guilty of a bit of melodrama in this novel. And yes, one might even accuse him of being a bit soap-operatic with this story. But the style of the story still remains quintessentially Caldwellian—and is therefore quite worthy of a read. I’ll leave it to you to discover who her potential redeemers (Randy, Carl and Wayne) might be—or might’ve been.
I don’t know how better to characterize this novel than to use the famous quote from Lewis Carroll’s Alice in Wonderland. Why do I say that? Because—from my reading, at least, to date—Erskine Caldwell doesn’t write about the middle class. And yet, every character in Annette is just that: middle-class.
Why—you might justifiably ask—would I introduce a review with “curiouser and curiouser,” then award it five stars? Quite simply, because Caldwell manages to insert his usual tension, then maintain it on every page. And that tension, that threat to the character whose name gives the title to this novel, is no less real for being middle-class, for taking place in a distinctly middle-class setting, and for containing dialogue and actions that can only be described as belonging to the middle class.
Lacking any sort of context, the following paragraph (on p. 166) may not provide you with an ideal illustration of what I’m suggesting here. But perhaps it will help to mention that Annette, having already been terrified earlier in the evening by the son of a doctor whose anonymous front-door bell she rang in the hope she could get access to a telephone and, thereby, an emergency rescue by her best friend, now finds herself at the end of a kind of “lovers’ lane” in a desolate part of town—the hour being well past midnight—with that best friend’s husband. “Looking around her in the semidarkness of the park, Annette was surprised that she did not feel as frightened as she thought she would be. Just as it had been at the doctor’s house, she had the feeling that it would be useless for her to struggle alone against what was bound to happen, and that only somebody like Randy or Carl would be able to help her. It was as if she could hear Wayne talking to her and saying there is nobody more helpless and forsaken than a young woman abandoned by fate and left to be at the mercy of the world.”
Yes, one might suggest that Caldwell is guilty of a bit of melodrama in this novel. And yes, one might even accuse him of being a bit soap-operatic with this story. But the style of the story still remains quintessentially Caldwellian—and is therefore quite worthy of a read. I’ll leave it to you to discover who her potential redeemers (Randy, Carl and Wayne) might be—or might’ve been.
Well I enjoyed it, but I could be biased because of the shared name. Nonetheless, easy read and honestly it was engaging for me - I was angry, sad, suspicious etc etc. as the motions went.