A Change in Altitude indeed.

A Change in Altitude

Anita Shreve

2009

At my mother's insistence, I have made my first venture into the world of non-snob lit. I have often wondered how bad writers become writers, popular writers, respected writers. Published writers. I consider myself pretty good, a bit lazy in craft and theory, and badly in need of a diligent editor, but pretty good. But, am I published? Am I cared for by thousands of women who thank me and implore me to connect with them again and again? Hell no. Thus, it is time I cut out this engrained snobbishness brought on by being raised to know my Valkerie truer self, and becoming addicted to intelligentsia college bilge.

And you know? Ms. Shreve is not bad. Yes, her exposition is obvious and she spends so many pages on describing people's clothes and appearance and obvious traits that she seems more like a writer of Sweet Valley High chain novels, yes her language is consistently basic, and sometimes the pace is slow, dialogue always pretty blasé. Nothing ever stands out in the book, and I have to wonder if there isn't a certain talent in that. I mean, she works in about 20 swahili terms into her 336 page novel, and I doubt anyone else could make this feat appear natural.

I imagine, and will explore a bit more, that this is the plateau of literature between The Devil Wears Prada and Infinite Jest that hits the smarter edge of your average reader. People who are damned intelligent and just don't care to be intellectual about it. It doesn't seem like too bad a place to be. There's for sure more of them than there are off-the-deep-end narrative nerds.

Shreve follows a pretty standard Everywoman through the overly analytic thoughts of, I don't think I'm out on a limb here, every woman. Shreve ignores emotions a woman's psyche wants to ignore until, just like in life, they get brought up. The genius of this is not just pciking and choosing these things, but exagerrating them.

Instead of her heroin, Margaret, ignoring the annoying/flattering crush a married man has on her and having it come to nothing, that very willful ignorance causes the death of that man's wife! This of course leads to strain in dull Margarets fresh and adorable marriage. The rest of the book (up to death takes maybe a third) is dealing with that and both symbollically and realistically getting over it.

In order to do this, Shreve weaves in half of Kenya's stereotypes and a couple genuine seeming characters who seem actually to have been researched from somewhere in history and almost developed into classic characters, readers will wonder about and chew on forever. Shreve doesn't ever make that cross over herself, though. It's sad, she seems so close to taking this Margaret from Everywoman to Jane Eyre, but doesn't. Why? Margaret has a hobby turned profession (photography) and complex meditations verging on the detail Milton gives Eve before she loses Paradise; Margaret embarks on all sort of adventures, initiates and follows through on all sorts of things which just don't quite develop her. Two thirds of the way, a reader who took one psych class once can tell Margaret has developed a form of major depression, but she doesn't ever develop anything else. No matter what she does, the way she things and the way she deals with things don't change or adapt. Argue for one or two instances maybe, or that “just because she doesn't change doesn't mean she's a bad character” and yea, sure you're right, but she will never ring in your imagination the way Becky Sharp or Emma Bovary or Constance Chatterly, or even April Wheeler does. The Everywomen of other books will haunt you, Margaret __________... Mc something (literally Mc something. The name is mentioned once, in conjunction with her husband and I can't believe how perfectly I can only remember she is Margaret Mc something.)

Point is, yes, it's a lovely study of far off Kenya with all sorts of references to names of lesser known plants and animals and the swahili phrases and the names of tribes, but I just can't bring myself to feel like this Kenya stuff was simply a set drop to make an otherwise boring human being seem interesting. And it doesn't even work.

That said, I did enjoy it. I guess I don't have to want to scribble all over my books with exclamations and epiphanies and connections all the time.