Blue Angel

Literature has entered the age of the antihero. Modern works that feature bona fide heroes are damned to mainstream, or if they are sufficiently lacking in big words, they may have a place in the Young Adult section. Today the only licensed guide for true literature is via the antihero. It turns out that while the antihero is an excellent chap for pointing out society's blemishes, he is pretty shabby at resolving them. For all of you reviewers who complained about the third act, this may be why it left you feeling unsatisfied. Showcasing those who right wrongs has become the preserve of the biographer. Meet Swenson Swenson, Ms. Prose's Nabokovian style antihero who, though willing to joust with the sexual conceits of university life, only spurs his charger down the lists at a tepid ho-hum trot and ends up forfeiting horse, armor, and title. Battered, but none the wiser, he walks off the last page a pauper with no means of support, no squire, no page, and probably still mired in writer's block. I believe SS's flaw is in his habit of real-time editing his social interactions. He obsesses over what others may think of his most trivial statements and actions. Come to think of it, this behavior probably accounts for why he's been unable to complete his third novel for the last twenty years. He is so uptight about how others regard him (though in reality it may be how he regards himself) he could pass for British. The story's villainess, An-GEL-a, a pity that the tip of the tongue only requires two not three steps off the palate, was suspected of being a pathological liar by SS. This was wrong. She was a sociopath. Lying is only one of the many tools used by sociopaths. When confronted by their crimes, liars can be made to feel badly about their behavior. Angela suffered no such compunctions. Interesting how the little vixen was so willing to sell her `innocence' for literary gain, only to become the poster girl for the sexual harassment harpies--nice touch. Though Ms. Prose's intent was to skewer the sexual harassment crowd such as they existed on American campuses ca. 2000, I think she did an even better job skewering the publishing industry. Look at the diabolical act Angela had to commit to get her book published. A student, her talent unknown but to herself, she knew she was facing the impossible. And look at the despicable self-serving character of Len Currie, SS's big city editor. SS is, or was, an author of some renown, he hadn't bothered his editor in many years, and now he wants to pitch a student whom he believes can really write. Instead, Currie ignores SS's obvious credibility and remarks that student writers are beneath him. I found myself detesting the editor even more than I did, Lauren Healy, the leader of the local femme-Nazis. [Word of the day: `misandry', meaning hatred of males, handy opposite of misogyny. Everyone knows what misogyny means--comes up often in cocktail conversations--but you need a really big dictionary to fi

Here is the rare literary novel I simply couldn't put down. Why? Was it the sordid little story with the sexy details? Probably didn't hurt, but I don't think so. I think it's Prose's sense of humor, her insights into common human foibles, her keen analysis of the complexities of political correctness, and above all, her superb storytelling ability and easy-to-read style. I laughed out loud reading the faculty dinner party scene. And even though I could see how the characters would evolve and where the story would have to go sooner or later, I was never less than captivated. Only the very end was unsatisfying. Unfortunately, I'm forced to confess my desire for a more complete ending that ties up all the loose ends. But, please, don't let that dissuade you. (I only wanted to know what would happen to all the characters. Perhaps a sequel will come some day, though I doubt it.) Ultimately, you'll just love this book.

This page-turner packs quite a punch. It is the story of a college creative-writing professor struggling with his attraction toward one of his students. He is happily married, but can't seem to shake his desire for this young, jittery, tattooed and punkish girl with enough facial piercings to make her head look like a disco ball. Meanwhile, he is trying to cope with a disenfranchised daughter, a class full of would-be writers, and a college environment that is growing increasingly wary of sexual misconduct and gender warfare.In Blue Angel, Francine Prose skewers campus politics and this country's return to the sexual mores of the Victorian Era. Her writing is authentic, unaffected, and sharp, and she manages to do what so many other writers cannot... tell a compulsively readable story that has depth, meaning, and insight. For a deeper understanding of the story, look for Prose's many telling references to other authors and novels (Chekhov, Lolita, Jane Eyre)... none of these references are without implication.I have noticed that a number of people who have written about this book here did not like the book, particularly the ending. It is important to remember, however, that the best of satires do not leave readers feeling satisfied. They leave us feeling frustrated and dissatisfied, not only for the characters, but for the reality that these characters represent. This book is no exception. It is easy to see why nearly every newspaper and magazine in this country has taken its turn praising Blue Angel to the high heavens, and why this book was a National Book Award Finalist. I am very much looking forward to reading more of Francine Prose's work.

Blue Angel is a wicked satire that pokes fun at academia, creative writing programs, writing in general and the ego of the artist...and that's just the beginning. There's something to offend everyone--in almost every sentence. And yet it's impossible not to admit that in every biting line and observation there is some grain of truth, and that is what makes this book so riotously funny.