Zadie Smith-- On Beauty

     This is my first encounter with Zadie Smith and I have to say that On Beauty was nothing like what I thought it would be. The novel chronicles a middle-aged African American mother and wife, Kiki, as she comes to terms with her disintegrating marriage to an Englishman who is a professor of Art History. They have three children, Jerome, Zora, and Levi, whose lives also take up a significant portion of the novel.
     Smith takes an outside approach to exploring race relations in this mixed family. The household is split-- Howard and Zora are a part of an intellectual community while Kiki and Jerome are non-conformists and somewhat clinging to their "Blackness". Jerome, the oldest, is somewhere in the middle of this spectrum. These characters didn't seem authentic to me at all-- they all seemed to be playing a role. None of them came across to me as real.
     To her credit, Smith is excellent at helping the readers see the minute details in life-- this is one of the few qualities I appreciate about this novel. This isn't to say that I'm disappointed, although, I am a little underwhelmed. I was hoping to glean a fresh look at the mixed-race experience, but I feel that a lot of Smith's material is recycled. I'm not stating that this is a bad thing, but I just wish she had gone a little further-- dug a little deeper. Overall, the novel introduces you to the lives of the characters on a surface level, avoiding or barely acknowledging all the shades in-between.
I will give Smith credit for some controversial arguments she makes. She discusses affirmative action a great deal and the educational divides between upper and lower class blacks. Still, Smith doesn't force you to think too hard about anything you don't want to; I walked away from this book feeling like something was missing, and as badly as I wanted to love this book about beauty, I just couldn't.

Leo Tolstoy's Anna Karenina

     What can I say about Anna Karenina that hasn't already been said? In this case, I have to agree with the popular consensus: It's one of the greatest novels ever written. It's breathtakingly beautiful. I think instead of attempting to review this novel, I will just provide one of my favorite passages with a short analysis. Go out and buy it and read it if you haven't already done so! Hope you enjoy it as much as I did.
     "And truly Levin had never drunk any liquor so good as this warm water with green bits floating in it, and a taste of rust from the tin dipper. And immediately after this came the delicious, slow saunter, with his hand on the scythe, during which he could wipe the streaming sweat, take deep breaths of air, and look about at the long string of towers and at what was happening around in the forest and the country.
     The longer Levin mowed, the oftener he felt the moments of unconsciousness in which it seemed not his hands that swung the scythe, but the scythe mowing of itself, a body full of life and consciousness of its own, and as though by magic, without thinking of it, the work turned out regular and well-finished of itself. These were the most blissful moments." (Tolstoy 237)


     This is one of my favorite passages for several reasons. The natural setting automatically wins me over. However, what is truly magical is the way Tolstoy weaves the natural background with the character. He meshes Levin and nature together. The repeated use of the word "consciousness" emphasizes that feeling of being caught up in the moment, being present in the act of hard labor while simultaneously rejoicing in one's surroundings. Tolstoy is trying to get us to see the unspeakable and effortless beauty that is created when we place ourselves in a position to commune with the natural world. For example, Levin partakes of nature's gifts when he drinks the fresh stream water and he feels like he is a part of the natural environment. Tolstoy is stripping life down to the bear minimum of necessities and communicates to the reader that all we need is hard work and fresh air to really add meaning to our existence.