If Freedom hadn’t been the next book available from the library after Blood Meridian, I may not have finished it, because it was not enjoyable and it consistently made me feel sad or icky or both. But, it was infinitely easier to read than Blood Meridian, and I would hate to quit on two books in a row, so finish it I did.
I have several artistic complaints, as well as several thematic complaints, as well as my now-familiar complaint regarding how books even end up on the list of contenders for the Great American Novel.
Artistically, I will say profanity in dialogue is one thing that I suppose, maybe is necessary sometimes. But profanity in prose, I will argue, is never necessary, and is instead a missed opportunity to come up with a better way of saying whatever it was that the author thought needed to be said, especially when the book is told from the third-person perspective, which this is. While Blood Meridian and McTeague were disconsolate, depressing books set in similarly despairing settings, Freedom was set in an optimistic, middle-class environment. This is what makes it easier to read than the former titles, and I suppose it’s a nice artistic juxtaposition, although as far as art goes, I would appreciate a more interesting setting than modern-day, middle-class suburbia.
A have a larger thematic problem with this book. Here again, every character is pretty much a bad person making bad decisions, ruining their own lives and everyone else’s, and suffering from cyclical depression. No one can be faithful, except perhaps Jessica, who never really has a love interest. So much of the book is dedicated to population control, the manic project of Walter and Lilitha, who, though they are ostensibly some of the nicer characters of the book (aside from being unfaithful and a homewrecker, respectively), explicitly harbor disgust for humanity, which motivates their manias for population control: Walter detests rednecks with big families and Lalitha is revolted with high birth rates in developing countries. Patty puts a grand effort into being “good,” when she decides to throw her lot in after Walter, and is agreeable even before then, but then she becomes a spiteful person as her children grow up and she dwells in self pity and cynicism. But then, somehow, after six years of separation from Walter, and a few illicit ramblings about, Patty convinces Walter to take her back after almost killing herself (perhaps because this caused Walter to warm her naked body with his own), and then she becomes Mrs. Perfect Wife and Neighbor again. Seeing as this didn’t last a lifetime the first time she tried, I’m wondering how happy of an ending this really is, or if, perhaps, it’s just a lazy way to tie up the loose ends of the story. The best thing I can say for Freedom is that it demonstrates why people need religion (a “brain parasite,” in Walter’s words): Walter and Lalitha rely on their own reasoning to create their own morality, Patty’s desire to “be good” for a person or to outshine her siblings is not strong enough to sustain her, and Richard does whatever he wants all the time, and it doesn’t work out for anyone.
Now, to bemoan this as a contender for the Great American Novel: as far as distinctly American themes go, Freedom gives us a middle class setting, the title (although I don’t understand how it applies to the story), and an obsession with politics, as every leading character hates Republicans, aside from Joey, who becomes a Republican out of disdain for the disdain his parents have for Republicans, and also because he likes money. I don’t think it should have made the list of contenders because no one does anything Great. Even Walter, who has a grand goal in mind and gives it a good effort, becomes a disillusioned cynic (and, of course, his grand goal is about as anti-American as you could get). The vast majority of this book consists of the characters periodically being depressed and cheating on each other, and I did not find it particularly fun to read, much less a great or inspired masterpiece.
Leave a Reply