Customer Reviews

The Handmaid of Desire

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

 

 

I roared at Olga Kominska's gnomic observations, as well as her ability to coax nudity of body or soul from pretentious masters of the hidden agenda. She needs no more than "Constant Comment" (!) tea, stale cookies, and the sort of insight into human nature that French theory merely hopes to deliver. Her ironic refrain of "up to a point" seems only to crescendo with repetition--one of many reasons why I credit L'Heureux with talent of a high order.

"Handmaid" is a subtle work whose admirable tension between thematic sophistication and stylistic economy might be thrown away on some--perhaps those too privileged to laugh at their own caricature. Moreover, even as he satirizes it, L'Heureux makes wickedly clever use of Postmodernist theory, weaving the tangled perspectives it seeks to deconstruct into the very fabric of his plot. Form and content crystallize into a razor-edged commentary on the closet elitism, myopia, and self-deception of the "literary" herd.

I am one of the "fools". Well, that's the only sympathetic group in this novel, and they are marginalized. With personal experience of a college French department where the dominant element would gladly push out that pesky language and literature and style itself The Department of Theory and Discourse, I admit that much of my delight in this satire comes from the in jokes.

However, there is another dimension here that appeals to any reader interested in the task of writing fiction, which L'Heureux (how do you pronounce this happy name in American, anyway?) deconstructs even as he sends up Deconstruction. Who can resist the parallel of Olga, in her role as Author, to Mary Poppins? She alights on the scene, opens her carpetbag of tricks, manipulates her unsuspecting charges and, having changed everything, disappears into the air.

To appreciate, L'Heureux's novel let yourself deconstruct the intentions of the narrative. On the surface, this sordid story answers the question why most English MAs don't proceed to earn Ph.Ds. Anybody who has spent a year in a graduate English department can relate to the foolish politics as an outsider or a victim. For those who dwelled in a more nurturing environment, here's some relief. Be patient with the cynicism, cruelty and an underlying opinion that sexual intercourse is something special as an adolescent will attest. The names of literary critics drop like pellets under a swarm of gerbils -- still play along. L'Heureux's latest novel is something more than a personal vendetta -- It's literature verite, how novels are made

This is a subversive and hysterically funny book. I love the concept of literary theory being turned on its purveyors. Everyone I've given this book to enjoyed it thoroughly, even those (gasp) to whom Foucault is a closed book.

Had a terrible cold over New Years, so I crept into bed with la "Handmaid" and laughed myself well. A wicked, cunningly crafted send-up of everything in academia that makes one cry for mercy these days. Antic. Witty. Wicked.

This book does not come close to matching Russo's _The Straight Man_ or Jane Smiley's _Moo_ for wit and twists of fate regarding academia. Similarly, Carolyn Heilbrun's Amanda Cross mystery series presents a much more well-written perspective on being a female professor. Olga does not come close to matching the description of any of the colleagues I have met in over 20 years as an academic.

I thoroughly enjoy any fiction which portrays professors with immense egos finally "getting their come-uppance" but read any other fiction about academe before spending time on this book.

the reading is quick and enjoyable. However, there are things that remain unclear and need explaination. Such as, who Olga really is and why only a certain group of people could be part of "it." Why couldn't Daryl be part of "it" and why were some people more important than others in her eyes? I enjoyed the book, no doubt, but i need more clarification.

After the frist hundred pages, this novel falls into repetition without interesting variations. Longueur succeeds longueur. The characters cease developing and the situations become predictable. Only verbal brilliance could save the book.

A much niftier book about life in poststructural times on a major American unversity campus is Hynes, The Lecturer's tale. Much more interesting style, plot, and characters.

Handmaid of Desire is a ridiculous tale of lust, greed, and murder set in the Ivory Towers of Northern California academia. It is light reading, and unwittingly, the author gives support to those who criticize "English" as a useless university major and department. This book seems like it was written for the author and his friends as an inside joke--"Ho ho ho! That jibe at Foucault was hilarious!"

The novel is centered around Professor Olga Kominska, who can read minds and knows the deepest secrets of the English professors with whom she works. She thinks her time as an invited guest professor should be spent helping the other teachers with their personal problems. I honestly can't go on reviewing something that doesn't deserve the time or space. Skip this one at all costs.

"The Handmade of Desire" by John L'Heureux is not written for the average reader who likes her tales to flow chronologically. One has to have some prior knowledge to follow his 'plot' which seems to be a send-up of deconstructionism.

Olga Kominski, a supposedly brilliant feminist writer joins the faculty of an unnamed university. She is of vague origin, perhaps Eastern European given her Polish last name. Her origin would not be an issue but for her proclivity to speak with multiple accents.

Olga has been hired as a member of the English faculty, and she is working on a book in her spare time. A professor of English writing a book is not unusual, but what is unusual is that as Olga writes, the characters in L'Heureux's book act in accordance with the characters in Olga's text. Is Olga merely recording the events she witnesses in the lives around her? Is she manipulating people so that they behave in ways she desires? Or, is she writing a script and through mysterious powers gaining the willing participation of the characters?

One experiences a sensation akin to that felt when viewing the famous Escher print where the hand is drawing the hand is drawing the hand. Surely, the author is spoofing the reader.

Most of the characters in Olga's book and L'Heureux's book are faculty peers or their spouses. All have secrets. All have problems. Unfortunately, the characters in both books are one-dimensional caricatures. I found it difficult to care about them. Unlike the characters in Jane Smiley's "Moo" some of whom still live in my mind, L'Heureux's characters are totally forgetable. The possible exception is Daryl the taxicab driver who seems to be "real."