The Aesthete:
the novel and Michael Ondaatje.
Michael Ondaatje¡¦s new novel, ¡§Divisadero¡¨ (Knopf; $25), is named for a street in
Ondaatje is an enemy of the linear.
He has called his novels ¡§Cubist,¡¨ and we are almost commanded not to try to
iron out the kinks. It¡¦s not easy to extract a continuous narrative from his
books, anyway, because events bounce around chronologically, styles and points
of view shift, and there are gaps and stray threads. ¡K [For example, in his
latest novel the second half of the story is told by a character, Anna, from
the first half and is] colored by her obsession with
her own family history in
There is a method of story writing
that involves stripping the tale of every extraneous detail plus one, so that
the nonextraneous bit becomes, in the reader¡¦s
imagination, the piece that might explain everything. It¡¦s a formula for
ambiguity. Kipling was expert at this; so was Hemingway. But ambiguity is
virtually integral to literary expression - ambiguity, uncertainty,
indeterminacy are ways that fictional texts mean what they mean. Ondaatje is
doing something else. He is trying to change the medium.
Ondaatje was born in 1943, into a
prominent Sri Lankan family. (He has written a memoir of his
relatives, ¡§Running in the Family,¡¨ published in 1982.) His parents
divorced (his father, at least in the account offered in the memoir, was a
hopeless binge drinker), and when he was eleven he joined his mother in
Those books were almost
ostentatiously experimental, and the early nineteen-seventies was a time for fictional experiment. One model was Donald
Barthelme, who mixed styles and media in the collections ¡§Come Back, Dr. Caligari¡¨ (1964), ¡§Unspeakable Practices, Unnatural Acts¡¨
(1968), and ¡§City Life¡¨ (1970) and in the novel ¡§Snow White¡¨ (1967). Another
was William Gass. Gass¡¦s
¡§In the Heart of the Heart of the Country¡¨ (1968) is a collection of oblique,
quasi-poetic takes on life in the rural
When Ondaatje undertook his first
full-dress novel, ¡§In the Skin of a Lion,¡¨ published in 1987, he therefore
proceeded by spinning a series of image-driven vignettes out of his imagination
and then arranging them in formal patterns that maintained only a loose sense
of obligation to the requirements of continuity and closure. ¡§I write very
freely, but then do a lot of rewriting to alter it, change it, dip it into
other colors,¡¨ he has said. And, ¡§I don¡¦t really
begin a novel, or any kind of book, with any sure sense of what¡¦s happening or
even what¡¦s going to happen.¡¨ ¡§In the Skin of a Lion¡¨ turned out to be the
prequel to ¡§The English Patient,¡¨ the novel that made Ondaatje famous. ¡§The
English Patient,¡¨ which reprises some of the characters of the earlier book,
was published in 1992. It was a co-winner of the Booker Prize and was adapted
for the screen by Anthony Minghella. The movie came
out in 1996 and was nominated for twelve Academy Awards, winning nine,
including best picture. The movie is a good deal more conventionally theatrical
than the novel, which is more interested in the somewhat overpopulated ménage
in the Italian villa that includes the nurse Hana,
the Indian sapper Kip, the thief Caravaggio, and the dying patient than it is
in the part of the story that everyone remembers from the movie¡Xthe doomed love
affair between the melancholy, dashing Hungarian Count Almásy
and the nubile Katharine. The book is filled with arcana
about desert mapmaking and bomb defusing that the movie can, with some relief,
dispense with. Minghella turned the book into
something Ondaatje programmatically resisted: a story driven by a plot and
equipped with an ending. (Ondaatje has expressed admiration for the
adaptation.)
¡§The English Patient¡¨ is a book that
resists becoming a romance. ¡§Anil¡¦s Ghost¡¨ (2000) is a book that resists
becoming a thriller. It¡¦s the story of a woman who, trained as a forensic
anthropologist, returns to
How fruitful is this approach to
fiction? Ondaatje has described the composition of ¡§Divisadero¡¨
in familiar terms: ¡§Beginning with almost nothing but a couple of stray images
and then seeing where they led. A wild horse in a barn.
A ¡¥family¡¦ that after it is shattered by an incident splits
up and disappears from each other. I do not have a plan in mind before I
begin but I follow those small clues - so the shaping and editing that comes
much later, after the story has been found and fulfilled, cuts it down, shapes
it, tightens it, makes sense of it.¡¨ Imaginations work in different ways, and
pulling an image out of the air and seeing what it leads to must be,
inherently, no less promising than some other mode of attack - storyboarding or
writing ideas down on index cards. But Ondaatje¡¦s novels read exactly as they
were written - as a sequence of highly imaginative, somewhat preciously poetic
set pieces. He makes a point of leaving some discontinuities and detours in
place. The mode of composition becomes the meaning of the book.
The sacrifice of plot is tolerable,
and, despite the willful digressions, traces of plot
and even suspense are usually there in Ondaatje¡¦s fiction. What is damaging is
the sacrifice of character. His characters are ciphers. We have no affective
connection with them. Their stories are too spare, and most of them are
impossibly wan figures who seem to be floating outside
of time - even in ¡§The English Patient,¡¨ which treats the Second World War
simply as the occasion for bringing exotic people together in threatening
circumstances. The threat is there only to charge the atmosphere. But the
strongest, the most entertaining part of ¡§The English Patient¡¨ is, in fact, the
conventional love story of Katharine and Almásy, just
as the strongest part of ¡§Anil¡¦s Ghost¡¨ is the conventional mystery story of
Anil and the twice-buried corpse.
The best parts of ¡§Divisadero¡¨ are those which involve Coop and the gamblers.
The language is colloquial and hardboiled - not Elmore Leonard, exactly, but
refreshingly unperfumed. ¡§The Deadhead, or hippie,
would be the one true ally Cooper found when he arrived at Tahoe. And the thing
about ¡¥the hippie¡¦ was that he seemed the healthiest person in the casino.¡¨
Raymond Chandler could have written that.
Many readers respond to Ondaatje¡¦s
anti-novelistic aesthetic. But it is frustrating to read continually against
the grain of expectations, and it is even a little annoying to be expected to
pick out the patterns in the metaphors, to be obliged to trust that there are
patterns, while the author looks on silently. ¡§The novel has been quite slow in
picking up what the other arts are doing,¡¨ Ondaatje has said. ¡§For years they
have been doing things that are much more suggestive, much freer of
chronological sequence.¡¨ The impulse to experiment is worthy; one wants it to
yield more than suggestion.
Louis Menand, June 4, 2007
http://www.newyorker.com/arts/critics/books/2007/06/04/070604crbo_books_menand