Freedom by Jonathan Franzen
Epic.
Since I apparently live under a rock, I last heard the name Franzen when I read The Corrections. I didn’t realise that there were weird amounts of media buzz going on about his requesting that work to be withdrawn as an Oprah Winfrey Book Club choice. Since Oprah has the ability to send book sales skywards, this was seen as smacking a gift horse in the mouth. However Mr Franzen felt he didn’t want her logo on his work, and was fearful that it would put off male readers. Now I can understand that. And, frankly, I don’t care if he comes across to some folks as arrogant, whingey, self-obsessed or what. He can write.
Basically it’s the two guys who are friends and one girl triangle, nothing new there, indeed he trots it out for those who maybe don’t know Natasha, Pierre and Andrei from War and Peace, and funnily enough it’s exactly the plot line of Diderot’s Le Fils Naturel, which I’ve just read. But he caught up my heart. He did it again; even the characters you hate, you still like. There’s that ambivalence, that multi-facetted light refraction. And at its heart there is a real question, how to live in this imperfect world, how to make the best choice (best for whom?), how to deal with all that freedom. “..the one thing nobody can take away from you is the freedom to fuck up your life whatever way you want to.” (p.381) Mistakes were made. Mistakes are always made, they’re unavoidable, or at least some of them are. In the end we need to be a little forgiving. It’s a family story that covers three decades of recent American history, but that makes it sound as bland as tapioca pudding. No, this is a satisfying, substantial meal.
