Compelling taleNovember 2, 2008 This is the first of Guterman's books I have read, and it captivated me. Coincidence, relationship, circumstance, decisions, remorse--aren't these the pieces of our lives? The confusion and regret with which Rand remembers his life with his wife and son, and Countryman's attempts to reconcile himself with his lack of action make the end of this book heartbreakingly sad. This story is told the way Countryman had to tell it, remembering every detail of the strange friendship; his character (high school English teacher) is true to type. It's a book about the unexpected journey to becoming a tortured soul, and is well worth the read.
"I don't want to participate in any of it."October 30, 2008 This book is the most quintessentially Seattle book I've ever read. There's plenty of Portland in there, too, and the Pacific Northwestern reader will feel constant ripples of recognition and amusement as Guterson dissects our urban obsession with what we eat and drink and the precise ways in which we indulge our picky forms of consumerism.
As a novel, this is a fascinating story. Two young men are obsessed with turning their backs on the Hamburger world, and one does to its terrible end. The story has a neat trick, you see... the one takes the place of the other. I won't elaborate for fear of spoiling the story, but it's a fine, fine piece of plotting.
The book tends towards the catalog, an almost Whitmanesque accrual of details. You'll either love it or hate it (I loved it). I admit I bridled at being asked to settle in for Rand's final monolog, but once I did, I hoped that I'd finally be getting to the root of things. But of course, that's saved for the last page, that final sense of, "oooooh."
Excellent.
Another, Less Compelling GatsbyAugust 25, 2008 1 out of 2 found this review helpful
When one reads a novel narrated by a peripheral character about another, more luminous personality, the tendency is to compare it to The Great Gatsby and its narrator Nick Carraway. In the case of Guterson's new book, The Other, that comparison quickly becomes an unfair one.
Neil Countryman, from a blue collar family, becomes Carraway here, and Countryman's high school pal, John William Barry, the Gatsby clone, is from a well off, troubled family. At this point, the Gatsby comparison dies on the vine. The novel is at first a coming-of-age novel of the sixties and seventies, as the boys vie in their schools' 880-yard races, take drugs, drink, play pranks, and date. John William becomes something of a high school and college radical, and one would think he'd be fighting girls off with a stick. But his moody mind is elsewhere. He and Neil begin to explore the virgin forests of the Northwest, taking great risks in this raw terrain. And more and more, John William begins to withdraw from family, school, friends--all normal society. He even tries to push Neil away, but Countryman is too devoted a friend, even following John William into the deep woods to hack out a cave his moody friend plans to live in. Obviously, the two eventually grow apart, despite Neil's constant attention to John William's new lifestyle. Neil marries and he and wife Jamie begin a family, eventually adopting an affluent bohemian, California-style life.
Then John William dies. The rest of the novel, as Neil and Jamie age, concerns Neil's efforts at coming to grips with his guilt over leaving John William alone in the woods. To complicate this, J.W. has left his pal a few hundred million dollars in his will. I won't reveal what Guterson intends as spellbinding revelations about the Barry family, things that obviously led J.W. to the woods and an eventual death there. But it's only in the last fifty pages or so that Guterson's story grows meat on its bones.
As first stated, I wanted to see the story--with Neil within the first person peripheral point of view--orchestrated in the manner of Gatsby, but this is patently unfair. There should be any number of ways of using Neil to "discover" his friend. But the plot Guterson chooses leaves John William seeming like he's a cheap, Elvis-on-velvet painting of a sixties character, with Neil fumbling about as his friend without any reason to remain close to the moody hermit. The result is, to my mind, a rather effete story peopled with prissy characters. As always, though, Guterson is at his best when casting his characters in the grander context of the damp, somber nature of the Northwest woods. In the chapters in which they spend time together in the woods, Guterson's Steinbeck-esque ability with mood is compelling.
His writing has always been uneven, but here, he seems to be going out of his way to deliberately create a literary put-on with The Other, and I don't know why. In a late passage, Neil, an aspiring writer, reveals agent and editorial comments about his writing as pretentious and insipid, these reminding too much of Guterson's own writing in some parts of this book. Put-ons are okay in such writing, I suppose, but in this case--if that's what Guterson's up to--the effort is too self-conscious to work.
Engaging at multiple levels, but not for everyoneAugust 24, 2008 This book engaged me on 3 different levels. The most impressive was the well constructed memoir-style of the book. The narrator tells his story somewhat in sequence, but has to move back and forth in time to provide clarity in the telling; and then circle back around at the end to fill in some gaps that he never knew back in the 70s. It's choppy, but creates the feel of a truly authentic re-telling of a story remembered from a distance of 30 years.
Second, the novel works as symbolic exploration of the paradox of being a part of our materialistic society and knowing that we aren't living in a way that is sustainable or perhaps even justifiable. Almost everyone in the novel is trapped by a different manifestation of what society expects, or how society operates. This kept me thinking even after finishing the book.
Third is the story which, on surface, is the least engaging aspect. If a reader is looking only for plot, only for characters navigating along to hold the interest of the reader, then this book will disappoint. However, for those with high school friends that crashed and burned, or with their own ambivalence about whether they have sold out to join "hamburger world" -- this book will pull you in and give you reason to pause.
Melancholy "madness"August 19, 2008 2 out of 2 found this review helpful
This is a really good book, by the author of the really good "Snow Falling on Cedars" and the not so good "Our Lady of the Forest" (well, at least I didn't enjoy that one). Middle-class Neil Countryman narrates the tale of his friendship with John William Barry, a young man to the manor born who rejects all the trappings of wealth in an extreme way, becoming a recluse up in Washington state's wilderness. As the book opens, Neil, and English teacher of nearly 30 years, has been bequeathed 400 million dollars following John William's death. Neil's narrative fills in all the gaps, from his first meeting with John William and their bonding over many camping trips, through college (at least for Neil) and love and marriage (again, for Neil), through to the final chapters of John William's fatal choice and the secret Neil carries with him for the sake of his friend. There is much here about friendship and perseverance and loyalty - plenty of rumination about life and why the two friends end up in such different places, physically as well as mentally. It's a touching read, and the characters are so well done. Melancholy at heart, which is something to which I can always relate.
