Sunday, May 18, 2014

Tom G Reads: American Pastoral

All right, here we go...

Philip Roth's 1997 tome, "American Pastoral", was an interesting trip for sure. Leading into the dark under croft of the American soul, Roth weaves a tale of humanity in all its beauty and horror as his protagonist must explore the heart wrenching depths of fatherhood, tragedy, and reflection.

A little background. I first became acquainted with this novel while delving perversely into the urban decay of Newark, New Jersey. I ran across mention of American Pastoral as it references Newark not only as a setting but as well a backdrop and embodiment of its themes of American optimism, pride, sin, self-destruction and eternal purgatory. A paradise lost. I was intrigued, to say the least, I knew I had to get hold of this book, but was simply too cheap to buy it. Enter the college library, and the opportunity to read it for free. An opportunity I did not hesitate to embrace. I found the book sitting alone of a shelf, sadly waiting to be rediscovered after a long neglect.

The story is told by "Nathan Zuckerman" a regular narrator in many of Philip Roth's works, and probably a literary persona for the writer himself. Zuckerman tells the story of Seymour "Swede" Levov, that rarity of blond, Jewish athlete whose story haunts Zuckerman after a high school reunion in his Newark neighborhood. In a series of long, often disorienting flashbacks, the narrator (Zuckerman) describes Swede Levov's arc in three parts. Part One, Swede's charmed life as a high school star athlete, war hero, inheritor of his family's successful glove factory, husband of a New Jersey beauty queen, and father of his daughter, Merry. In Part Two we learn of Merry's deep-seeded troubles, her turn to the radicalism of the late 1960's and the the tragic results. Swede, heartbroken and desperate to find his murderous daughter delves into a dark and hellish world of secret meeting, sexual temptation and the morose abyss of accepting what his daughter has done. In Part Three, Swede finally finds his terrifyingly disturbed daughter, alone in the dark, Dante-esque landscape of post-industrial Newark. His marriage crumbled, and unable to save his daughter, Swede is left to accept the loss of the past and to face the uncertain future.

American Pastoral is told in an interesting way. It is told through the narration of a character who was not there. Who barely knows Swede. It is almost pieced together from the knowledge and imagination of a less-than-reliable source. At one point it transitions to Swede's point-of-view, but even here I felt as if I was still listening to Zuckerman attempt to reconstruct the events and thoughts that surround Swede. Why is Zuckerman so fascinated by this? What does Swede Levov and his story, if it's even true, represent to Zuckerman. Is it an allegory for Newark's fall-from-grace? Is it an allegory for America's fall-from-grace. Could this life of achievement and hope, brought-down by desperation and self-destruction be the story of America in the 20th century? Or does that all even matter to Zuckerman? Perhaps Zuckerman is Virgil, showing us the netherworld. A guide and voice to help us find meaning in all of it.

Philip Roth's writing was that of an old pro. He knows how to tell a story. The language of American Pastoral paints a vivid and even surreal set of pictures in our mind. Reading this, I could see the people, the place, the time. I could feel the story's emotion, I could feel the heart of its characters. Its pathos, palpable and real.

There was one glaring problem I found with the novel. There was a lot of unnecessary writing here. A lot of what seems like padding and over-extensions just to reach eighty-thousand words. For instance, paragraph-after-paragraph, and sometimes across multiple pages describing the manufacturing of ladies gloves. At times is was so tedious that I had not choice but to sacrifice my weak and wounded and march-on. It's not a good thing when the read has to skim and skip just to stay on board.

Overall, American Pastoral was rewarding read, even if padded. At its core is a story that one can grasp and feel. It is a meal with many parts and many flavors. There is a lot here. The rise and decline of a family mirrors that of its home city and of the United States as a whole. The parable of a hero, loved and admired, who is brought to his knees and broken by what he has made and yet unable to understand. A force of destruction greater than any: his own child. Swede Levov, like Newark and America, is torn-apart by his own offspring.