A provocative book! Not easy to read, but a challenge for the reader who wants something different. Candy House by Jennifer Egan is set in the near future when it is possible for an individual to upload her consciousness including all thoughts, feelings, and memories, to a cube that can sit on the mantel.
And if a person wishes to go further, once her mind is uploaded, she may opt to merge her uploaded consciousness with that of others, thus gaining access to the collective. Alternate memories of shared events can be accessed; other points of view are experienced; true understanding is available. The name of the company that does this is Mandala (a Sanskrit word meaning a symbol of the universe in its ideal form, transformed from suffering to joy).
But to some, this technology is a candy/gingerbread house – alluring on the outside, but lethal. Anyone can access anyone else’s buried memories; “counters” keep statistics of innermost motives which are sold to business and media; privacy is nonexistent.
Why anyone would do such a thing is the crux of the book, which aside from this one fanciful bit of technology, is not science fiction or fantasy. People have an intense desire to feel a part of something bigger than themselves (as any religion will tell us).
The different ways that people seek connection, with or without a machine, make up the individual stories in this book. Narratives are told in different times, in different voices, and with different structures (emails, conversations, instructions) but each character has a connection to someone in another chapter. An organizational chart Is helpful. The way the story is told is much like real memory – it comes in bits and pieces.
The symmetry of the beginning and ending is very satisfying. There is some beautiful imagery, “Snow swarmed like honeybees…it slathered tree trunks and sparkled like crushed diamonds…A lavender lunar radiance filled the park.” It is a thoughtful exploration, maybe a warning, of how much technology should be allowed into our lives.
Everyone knew what I meant when I said Someone Else’s Shoes by JoJo Moyes was “fluffy.” No deep symbolism or intricate cast of characters. Just sit back (shoes off) with something cold nearby and enjoy the story.
Two women go to the gym and leave with each other’s bag. One contains a pair of red alligator Christian Louboutin stilettos. Sam, having no other shoes at the moment, wears them to her next business meeting where, feeling unusually good about herself, she more than clinches the deal. Crushes it. The second woman, Nisha, entitled and spoiled, finds herself cut off, discarded, and stepped on by her super rich husband who has been planning to divorce her for months.
Do clothes make the woman? Does sex sell? Can the wicked stepsister turn into Cinderella? Ideas we’ve met before are updated and mixed with more current issues. Mix-ups ensue; friendships are made; love is found; villains are punished.
The murder, in Tigerlily’s Orchids by Ruth Rendell, doesn’t occur until two thirds of the way into the book. Because Rendell’s character development is so good, we know, of course, who did it, although….there is a very small doubt…a very small possibility…
The tenants in the six apartments of Lichfield House, in London, recognize each other, may nod hello, have the occasional conversation. In the building across the street live the Asians and the beautiful mysterious Tigerlily. Do any of these neighbors know each other at all? Rendell explores a favorite theme of hers, human miscommunication, and in a masterpiece of misdirection brings her characters together in a portrait of modern relationships.
You can make even the fluffiest of books appealing! Thanks
I loved how insightful this was!
Excellent review of Candy House which didn’t seem to me of have a satisfactory conclusion