Customer Reviews

Blood Kin

5 star:		(3)
4 star:		(6)
3 star:		(0)
2 star:		(0)
1 star:		(1)

 

 

When we think of the corruption of power, what typically comes to mind are the monsters of history: the dictators, the generalissimos, the presidents-for-life. While it's true that these sorts who do the most obvious damage, it's also true that, if power corrupts, it negatively affects everyone who benefits from it. In her Blood Kin, Dovey demonstrates just how far the blood line of political corruption extends by focusing on the lives of three of its indirect beneficiaries: the portraitist, barber, and chef.

These three characters remain unnamed throughout the entire novel--as is appropriate, first because they aren't luminaries but rather "ordinary," anonymous people; second because they're everyperson--they're you and me--in their capacity for being corrupted through association. In the novel's second part, these three anonymous voices are joined by three more, this time female. Moreover, none of the characters in the novel are named, neither the dictator whose political fall land the six members of the Greek chorus (so to speak) in turmoil, nor even the country where all this is taking place. Again, these details don't matter, because the country is everycountry.

One of the especially fine qualities of this novel is its willingness to wrestle with fundamental questions about human decency in the face of evil. The barber, painter, and chef, for example, each represent one possible response to tyranny: the barber is a coward, the painter pretends to be above politics, and the chef is a thuggish, willing collaborator. Given that these characters are everypersons, they serve as mirrors for readers that ask of us our own responses.

The eerie anonymity of the novel's characters and place gave me a taste, sometimes, of Kafka. The sparseness of language reminded me occasionally of Dovey's fellow-countryman, Coetze. The sheer absurdity of the characters occasionally reminded me of Lewis Carroll (especially, for some reason, his poem about the Walrus and the Carpenter). But the book, a modern passion play, is all Dovey's. I look forward to reading more of her.

I have reached a point in life where not much is left that surprises me. Blood Kin surprised me. It is gripping tale and in depth study of how absolute power corrupts absolutely and how those in the vicinity of the corruption corrupt themselves in their efforts to survive. It is not light, happy reading but a book that will challenge your senses and stimulate your mind to look at the world from another angle. Blood Kin is a timeless book that I believe will be read for generations.

I recently read this book and found it to be an enjoyable read. It is, perhaps, not the most original book, but it is engaging and well-written. My only minor complaint is that there are a lot of narrators (the narrators are constantly shifting from chapter to chapter) and I started getting them confused towards the end. Yet I have to admit, I am not immune to the charms of the idea of an unnamed country in an unnamed continent as a tool to illuminate aspects of the human condition (something like Ann Patchett's 'Bel Canto'). And I ended up copying a rather lengthy passage into my commonplace book (journal where I keep various quotes):

"From the earliest years of girlhood, it had been the dominant mystery in my life - whom would I marry? And when? - and suddenly it was solved, overnight, and the unseen force that had propelled me onward all those years wilted. I think that's why people stop caring when they get old: there are no more mysteries to solve; you know what job you've chosen, whether you've had children, how many, girls or boys, what their names are, what childbirth feels like, where you're living, how much money you earn, who your husband is, what he does, how often he makes love to you, whether your face wrinkled at the eyes or the mouth first. And then you get old enough to start putting pressure on younger people to solve their mysteries, because deep down you want them to suffer the same slow creep of boredom that you did."

I am certain this will prove to be a useful quote to me in the future, perhaps when someone I do not like too well proposes to me or an old person bugs me about having children. Here's to preserving (at least some of) life's mysteries!

Summary, no spoilers:

This book is told from the POV of several different characters, all of whom have some relationship with the three narrators from part one - a deposed president's chef, portraitist, and barber.

This book starts off with a wonderful, eerie feel to it. The country and background are wonderfully ambiguous, and although it takes place in fairly modern times, that is also vague.

You know that the president has been disposed, but you are not sure why, or whether any of these narrators are reliable, or are hiding some Big Secrets.

This is a quick, fun read. I will say that the finish did not live up to the suspense and the wonderful buildup, but it was enjoyable nonetheless. I also think that there are some clever ideas here, and I there were some passages that I reread just because they were so clever.

Recommended, with reservations.

I honestly cannot recall how I came across this book, but I could not put it down! I read it in one go barely putting it down. Passed it on to my cousin who had the exact same experience.

This book is small so it was a quick read. I really enjoy novels about revolutions or politics or coups and things of that nature. This book had a little intrigue related to the coup, it had love, it had suspense. I enjoyed the way it was written. It starts off with three characters related to the president by their jobs. The second part relates to three women related to the first three characters we meet. It ends with us finding out about all the characters and how they are tied in together. It wasn't an amazing book that you will re-read over and over but it was a very good debut. I recommend reading it especially because of its quick length. If you don't like it at least you didn't spend too much time reading it.

Blood Kin is a slim yet pithy book, a book that reads like a fable with characters who are identified by their function only: the President, his portrait artist, his chef, and his barber. In a nameless country, at a nameless time, a president is overthrown by a military coup, and three men who are considered near to him are abruptly taken hostage and removed to his summer place...along with the portrait artist's very pregnant wife.

Chapter by chapter, we get into the head of each of these characters and begin to gain an understanding of their own ruthlessness and ambition. The master chef, for example, muses over the captive abalone -- the last ingredient in his paella -- musing, "If they sensed me coming they contracted like a heart muscle and were wasted." The portraitist considers, "I was ruthless about detail, and documented each new wrinkle or discoloration or sausage spot..." And the barber recalls, "This was the moment I waited for each day: with a brisk twist of my hands, I could have snapped his neck, slit his throat with a knife flick, but I did neither..."

The men seamlessly take their place in the new regime; the portraitist says, "Every person I see looks vaguely familiar" and is answered by, "In a strange place, ,your brain does things like that. Seeks out familiarity. A survival tactic." Here comes another one, just like the other one -- the new Commander, indeed, takes over where the old President left off, including using the very people that were past intimates.

Somewhere a little over half way through, three new characters are introduced: the chef's daughter, the portraitist's dissatisfied wife, and the barber's dead brother's fiancee. The reader knows something of them from the first part, but the story becomes increasingly fleshed out when viewed from their perspectives.

All the cut-throat violence is conducted off stage; the reader only has a sense of what is happening in the collapsing country. But the characters are vivid and powerful, the writing is luscious, and the hint of connection or even collusion is tense and threatening. This debut novel -- really, not much more than a novella -- establishes Ceridwen Dovey as a writer to watch.

When I finally got to the last page, I was still hopeful that I could turn another page and find the great things others said in the previous reviews. This never happened, and I was so hopeful!
This is one of the most boring, predictable books I have ever read. Each chapter changes perspective, which at first is interesting. However, as the book progresses and even more narrators come into to play, the story becomes convaluded and soap oprea-ish. There are no surprises in it all; frankly, it feels formulaic.
Even though I enjoyed the author's style, which has a very lovely flow to it, I do not like how she explains metaphors to the audience. The metaphor is lost, cheapened even, when someone explains it. This happens several times in the text; each time, I felt my heart sink a little, and I disliked the book just a tad more.
I am thrilled that others liked it, and I truly wish that I had found it to be more enjoyable. But, I now understand why I found this on the dollar bargain table at the book store.

A strangely written but very readable book. Coming from Africa, I keep putting the story into an African context, yet it doesn't quite fit there. I find not being able to identify the book with a country a bit disconcerting.

I had high expectations given some excellent reviews that I had seen. I read the book in only a few hours. The book is well written and I like that there are many different narrators. However, when I finished I was left a bit dissatisfied.