The Force of the Past : A Novel

Rating:
Summary: The Force of the Narrative
Review: Veronesi's book is two stories in one. First is a novel about coming to grips with the possibility that the people you think you know best -- your father, your mother, your siblings, your spouse, your child, and most importantly, yourself -- may not be at all what you think. Real people have layers and depths which even a lifetime together might not reveal. To a very large degree we are all putting up fronts of how we want to be seen, and like the facade on a building, our 'public face' may or may not reflect the actual construction beneath.

Veronesi's second story is the interior monologue we all perform, questioning ourselves and the events around us in a constant assessment of the world and our place in it. This Proustian 'stream-of-consciousness' has never been so well depicted as in Gianni Orzan's story, as the central character effortlessly glides between the here-and-now and remembrances of things past. It 'illuminates' (in the Medieval sense) the story of his life (story one), giving the reader a rare first-person glimpse into the depths of the soul.

Working your way through the novel is like being on an archeological dig, digging down through buried layers to bring up something tangible, something that can be held up as truth. It is a process of discovery which both satisfies, and unsettles you as you begin to think about the unseen history around you.

Rating:
Summary: The Force of the Narrative
Review: Veronesi's book is two stories in one. First is a novel about coming to grips with the possibility that the people you think you know best -- your father, your mother, your siblings, your spouse, your child, and most importantly, yourself -- may not be at all what you think. Real people have layers and depths which even a lifetime together might not reveal. To a very large degree we are all putting up fronts of how we want to be seen, and like the facade on a building, our 'public face' may or may not reflect the actual construction beneath.

Veronesi's second story is the interior monologue we all perform, questioning ourselves and the events around us in a constant assessment of the world and our place in it. This Proustian 'stream-of-consciousness' has never been so well depicted as in Gianni Orzan's story, as the central character effortlessly glides between the here-and-now and remembrances of things past. It 'illuminates' (in the Medieval sense) the story of his life (story one), giving the reader a rare first-person glimpse into the depths of the soul.

Working your way through the novel is like being on an archeological dig, digging down through buried layers to bring up something tangible, something that can be held up as truth. It is a process of discovery which both satisfies, and unsettles you as you begin to think about the unseen history around you.