Customer Reviews

The Necessary Beggar

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

 

 

Susan Palwick's "A Necessary Beggar" is a work of extreme richness, both fascinating and moving. The highly believable and convincing parallel-dimensional culture she has created would float a whole series of novels if she were inclined to write them, and yet, in a sense it's merely the "back story". The main story, told with a huge emotional range from deliciously wry satire to heart-rending pathos is about humanity and inhumanity. We see from the outside and the inside what xenophobia, religious intolerance, and unfeeling, unimaginative bureaucracy mean in the immigrant experience, as well as how the good in people (of whatever ethnicity) can overcome this. By the end of the novel I was almost cheering with delight. And Mike, yes this could make a movie-of-the-week on the Lifetime channel, but so could "The Scarlet Letter"! Don't confuse openness to feeling with sentimental wallowing.

"The Necessary Beggar" is a breath of fresh air in the SF/Fantasy market place. Rather than having the stereotypical, and all too common these days, bombs, guns and aliens, Palwick weaves a story about the humanity in us all. Her story of the exiles from Lemabantunk is about redemption and understanding.

I strongly disagree with Mike's review. Palwick's story is told with emotion, but it doesn't make it melodramatic. Her characters are trying to come to grips with a new language, and a new culture, and, heck, a new dimension. The struggle of the elders to change is crafted with believability, as shown in the grudging acceptance by Timbor, and with the slow-boiling hatred shown by Macsofo. Reminiscent of tales of multi-cultural families in the U.S. where children adapt to new culture much better, Zama is able to adopt the culture much easier, yet her willingness to embrace her family's cultural connection brings about the resolution in the novel. Palwick varies points of view in the chapters to show the struggles of Timbor's family in the literal "new" world, while a back story of Darroti and Gallicina provide a haunting mystery that is shocking to the reader in its unraveling.

The treatment of the exiles and the social commentary provided by Palwick in the novel holds a mirror up to our current beliefs in America. This self-reflection offered can be uncomfortable when we see how our society treats other people who are considered outsiders or undesirables. But this mirror also shows that there are good people. Mike objects to Palwick's characterization of Jerry the jock. I say it is refreshing because she doesn't stereotype him into a typical jock. She makes him compassionate. This is a strength to the novel, not a weakness.

In the dark post 9/11 world, if you're seeking to read a novel that reaffirms hope and humanity, I strongly recommend "The Necessary Beggar."

I read this book in one long sitting, staying up most of the night to do so. The story, which is told without ostentation, grows in power as it progresses. It depicts struggles -- and answers to them -- in a realistic and unflinching way without ever giving way to bathos, and the end is both unexpected and yet necessary given what came before. When I finished the book I felt deeply satisfied. The novel resonated for me on many levels, and continues to do so months after I first read it.

At its heart, Susan Palwick's The Necessary Beggar, is a rather simple story of a family from a parallel world trying to make a go of things in our world. Palwick's exiles arrive in Reno, Nevada, through a shimmering blue portal. They are not adventurers or heretics or invaders, but a simple family exiled for a crime of passion committed by the son of the narrator. The family is a good one that adheres to the teachings of its culture. They live by beliefs (an odd mix of Western and Eastern philosophies) that many of us would find admirable, beliefs that are often incompatible with their environment. Palwick's book, though, succeeds on a number of levels, creating a rich tapestry of themes. It is a mystery story, a ghost story, an adventure story, a coming of age story, and a story of romance.

I was pleased and surprised with this story. However, I kept waiting for the aliens to be wowed by all the technology and stuff that they lacked in their world. What a great eye opener to what is important family and love.

This it is the type of book that epitomizes the term "mixed reviews." Some will love its allegorical social commentary and message of love and redemption, but others will find only contrived methods and sappy melodrama. I found myself swinging wildly between these two camps while reading the novel, which indicates a further problem with its inconsistency. Granted, the basic premise is pretty good, as people from some sort of parallel universe, with a much different human society, are exiled to our world and forced to adapt under trying circumstances. But unfortunately, Susan Palwick does little with this premise beyond the trite and predictable. First, the characters' homeworld, Gandiffri, is a thinly-constructed allegory for a pure and simple human society, and was surely created only to provide obvious contrasts with our world. This contrived sense of difference then makes the first half of this book extremely tiresome as the characters, and especially the leading lady Zamatryna, embark on longwinded and incredibly predictable discussions with their American friends about differences in customs and religious beliefs. This is the old "outside observer" device in fantasy/sci-fi that not only has been done to death for decades, but it's also been done much better.

The second half of the book gets more interesting, for a while, although this is where sheer melodrama weighs the story down. On the good side, there is one very readable and empathetic episode told in a flashback, the story of Darroti and Gallicina, but this merely sheds light on the weaknesses of the main storyline. Palwick tries to develop her characters but keeps writing herself into corners, finding escape in implausible coincidences and contrived plot devices - especially two different miraculously generous benefactors. Most importantly, as Zamatryna comes of age, the story strangely turns from predictable social commentary to clumsy chick-lit self-discovery, and the climax to the story dissolves into contrived melodrama as hardships and crises pile up suspensefully, but in the end all the characters experience implausibly rosy conclusions. And all of the above is built around the aforementioned message of love and redemption, which some readers will find little pleasure in trying to digest. Overall, this book is a fairly successful reading experience, and you're likely to stay interested to the end, but all the contrivances and inconsistency fail to go anywhere truly rewarding. [~doomsdayer520~]

When one son is accused of murder, his entire family is exiled from their glorious city of Lémabantuk, sent to a new world--where they find themselves in the Nevada desert. A story of two cultures and faiths blending, The Necessary Beggar is unexpected magical realism, combining gritty but irreverent daily life with glimpses of sentimental magic. The novel has a number of faults, including out of place scifi elements and uneven pacing; nonetheless, it has thoughtful and intelligent (if overwrought) themes, and its combination of mundanity and unexpected magic make it a joy to read. Moderately recommended.

Perhaps unexpectedly, The Necessary Beggar is more magical realism than it is science fiction. It may begin with a blue doorway bridging parallel universes, but its heart is the personal, spiritual, unexpectedly magical aspects of magical realism. It's the story of two faiths blending when one is forced into the heart of the other--and the faiths come alive via magical objects and meaningful dreams. It is also the story of two cultures blending, and so this magic occurs within the gritty and often irreverent framework of an immigrant family stranded on American soil. Unfortunately, the science fiction aspects feel out of place and underexplored in this magical realist setting. In both Lémabantuk and Nevada, religion is faith-based--and so it's a surprise (and magical) when it's evidenced in small and unexpected ways. Blue portals between worlds just don't mesh, and there's never enough science or explanation to categorize the portals as some sort of non-magical technology which doesn't interfere with the progression from faith to small miracles.

That complaint aside, magical realism serves The Necessary Beggar quite well--but still the book is not perfect. The story takes place over many years, and is told from three points of view; as such, the pacing varies widely: sometimes redundant, sometimes skipping years at a time, ending in a hurried conclusion. The pacing, compounded by an irreverent tone, does characterization few favors: characters are excessively dimensioned, full of secret histories and false faces without enough consistent detail to make them believable. Yet for all these faults, The Necessary Beggar is an unexpected pleasure. Perhaps because I was expecting science fiction and instead discovered a cousin to Gabriel García Márquez and Isabel Allende, I found this book delightful: faulted, yes, but also thoughtful and intelligent, with overwrought but meaningful themes; quietly spiritual and perfectly balanced on the blurry line between mundane and magical, making it a joy to read. It's not a book I plan to come back to, nor my favorite by Palwick, but it's a quick and thoughtful read and on that basis I recommend it.

I enjoyed this tale of death and redemption. It's less science fiction and more about the fabric of families recovering from sad pasts. Culture clash, love, and tradition play into this moving tale. I'd like for the author to do something else with Gandiffri, since she did such a fantastic job of realizing the culture and world.

It's a story about moving unwillingly to a new place, and not understanding, and learning to understand, and about love winning in the end.

I was moved and pleased by it. It was recommended to me by a college professor, and she too was moved. I think even those who dislike fantasies will make an exception, and cherish this book.

I've always been impressed by Susan Palwick's shorter works - they are often dark, poignant, and thought-provoking. I also found her first novel, "Flying in Place," moving and well-written. So, when I found out she had written a second novel, I was eager to read it. The jacket and reviews from Booklist and Publisher's Weekly added to my anticipation. Expecting to be wowed, I drank in the first 45pp., but my patience was starting to quickly run out. I forced myself through the rest of the book in a day just because I thought it had to get better. But it really didn't.

The premise of the book is great and a lot could have been done with it had it not been turned into something you'd watch on the Lifetime channel. Darroti, accused of murdering a Mendicant - a holy beggar - is to be exiled to another dimension as punishment for his crimes. As per Gandiffri custom, his family must also be banished. They end up in the Black Rock Desert in Nevada in a near future that has seen our current political situation worsen. Conveniently, they end up close to a refugee camp for foreigners/undesirables. Otherwise they probably would have fallen victim to the desert and there would've been no novel. Palwick never does explain how the dimensional portal works or why it sends folks to the locations it does - it just seems to be a convenient plot device to dislocate some aliens in order to make social commentary about our world. But Palwick did write it in 10 weeks, so maybe she didn't have time to think it all through.

In the acknowledgments, Palwick mentions that she took a cue from the parable of the wedding banquet and I thought really nothing of it at first. But, after finishing the novel, it seems like she was trying very hard to write a parable of her own. The simple language, flat characters, and obvious THIS IS THE POINT feeling give it away. The lessons about forgiveness and love and blah blah blah are nice, but the way Palwick tells it it belongs more in a homily than a novel. It would have saved everyone some time that way.

I didn't find that any of the characters had depth, nor were they terribly believable. Especially Zama. Palwick is beginning to have a pattern of prescient adolescent girl narrators....will she go for the hat trick in her next novel "Shelter?" Zama was not like any late teen/early twenty-something that I've known (and I'm still close to that age group at a mere 24). And I really didn't believe that she'd fall for the dumb jock, Jerry, who would then give all of his money to a homeless woman for bypass surgery. And the whole love story bewteen Darroti and the Mendicant woman was just too melodramatic. She was painted as a strong woman, but she then overreacts and slices her throat because of a small miscommunication? Not buying it. It feels as if Palwick had a bunch of stock characters lying around and felt the need to plug them into a novel and make them work in a different way. Not to mention the overabundance of plot contrivances.

Overall, I'm very disappointed. Palwick was one of my writing teachers at UNR and a tough one at that. If one of us had turned this piece in for workshop, she would have torn it apart for all the same reasons I've listed. Hopefully, her next endeavors will be more developed.