Customer Reviews

The PowerBook

5 star:		(10)
4 star:		(7)
3 star:		(5)
2 star:		(2)
1 star:		(2)

 

 

This new book navigates the seas of fiction and love. As a piece of internet prose, it easily surpasses Matt Beaumont's entertainment 'E'. Jeanette Winterson explores the opportunities offered by the net, the wardrobe door that leads to many a magical land. The heroine of this novel flits here and there, choosing exotic locations as she pleases. However, much of this book is also based in the real as much in the imaginary.

There's an ongoing plot in 'The Powerbook', a very modern love affair. It's the beauty of the prose that is really outstanding though. Winterson goes to Capri and uses the funicular railway as a metaphor in a manner that seems entirely natural, unforced, but prone to gravity. For me, there was a certain amount of nostalgia, as Winterson explores the settings of my own adolescent vacations, from the Isle of Capri near Sorrento, the romantic flirtation with Paris, the exhilarating adventure of seedy London. 'The Powerbook' lives up to its ambition of being an internet novel, since we can all attempt the Grand Tour via the Net nowadays. It's always a delight to follow in an author's footsteps, see the world through their eyes. For instance, you can find the painting of his wife Saskia as Flora on the net by Rembrandt. At first sight, this picture seems too dark to be the image that Winterson describes, but it's a delight to look at the picture again through her prose.

There's a section here where Winterson seems to return to the 'real life' of 'Oranges are not the Only Fruit', and it's very compelling to find a horror of nothing, the fear of having to invent, the burden of having to create. It does seem, though, that Winterson has been following current literary trends, borrowing and embellishing what she fancies. The Tulip trade is very much in fashion now, and Winterson has a faction devoted to George Mallory. Yet there are also much older, traditional tales. Lancelot and Guinevere, and Paolo and Francesca reading of their love, doomed to a much more bloody fate in the pages of Dante's Inferno. I had never come across the tale of Paolo and Francesca before, but it thrills me to find that it had been the subject of a variety of paintings, including one by the Pre-Raphaelite 'Dante' Rossetti.

This isn't a very weighty book in terms of page count. You'll find that you'll be able to finish off 'The Powerbook' in one sitting. Some might find the book a little costly in hardcover format. There is very little drama. Instead, there are some quite modern truths and observations. Winterson discusses the fact that nobody really seems to be content now, and that they always want more. That nobody wants to settle. Just waiting for the next opportunity, the next love affair. A society where everyone wants love, but wants to be left alone. So, this book is perfect for of a generation of short attention spans. Yet, if used in the right way, 'The Powerbook' can stimulate you a great deal; make you highly active as you seek out its subtle meanings, to compose your own story as you weave a path through the web, following the footsteps of Ali and Sebastian Melmoth. Maybe the Reformation and the Tulip trade brought the immortal Arabian Nights to us? Winterson also covers the theoretical debate of author/reader - which of these two really creates the fiction? Winterson comes down on the right side, and reveals fiction in its true light, as a dialogue between author and reader (literally). She conveys how some fictions will never die; will be forever revived by future artists. This poetic novel deserves to be kept on the bookshelf, and referred to whenever your heart desires.

Jeanette Winterson's The Powerbook manages to accomplish in only 289 pages what other books cannot accomplish in 1000...suggesting that all time is one. Winterson has made it perfectly clear elsewhere ("Art Objects: Essays on Ecstacy and Effrontery") that "all art belongs to a single period". Winterson interweaves myth, fact, history, drama, comedy, charm, wit, all in a mesmerizing voice that carries itself in a blend of rhythm, logic, revelation, beauty.

What is particularly fascinating about this novel is that there is no plot, but a series of themes that run through the fragmented novel. It is as though she has grabbed a whole of beauty, smashed it, and reassembled it. A few readings show that the otherwise unrelated characters do have some dependancy on each other, to continue the story where their mentioning ends, to reveal nuances that their actions would otherwise obscure. This book moves through several characters, through the eyes of women and men, and we find out what it is like to feel and act anf love like a man and as a woman. Francesca loves Paolo and we fall in love with him too (the haunting line "Paolo il bello" resonates) but through the story of Guinevere and Lancelot it is through Lancelot's eyes that we are, and the object of our affection is Guinevere.

This is a fully realised work, and if we compare Oranges and this we see vast differences...it makes me wonder what novels Jeanette Winterson will be composing for the next 30 to 40 years of her life. I, for one, will read them all upon moment of publication.

If you're someone who loves the power of words, who loves lush, poetic prose and the images it can conjure, the magic it can work, then you will probably love Jeanette Winterson's beautiful novel, "The Powerbook."

"The Powerbook" explores Winterson's recurring themes of time, love and gender identificantion (or the lack of it) through the story of Ali/Alix, a woman living in cyberworld and reinventing herself at another's command. But reinventing yourself doesn't come without a price as Ali/Alix soon finds out. Will she pay it? And if she does, will it be worth the price?

For me, "The Powerbook" is Jeanette Winterson at her very best. Everything that was so wonderful in her previous novels comes together in this one. She tells stories, she writes the most lyrically divine prose, she uses linear time and circular time, she anchors herself in reality while letting herself soar on flights of fancy.

"The Powerbook" is art for the sake of art. Although some would argue that "art for the sake of art," especially in the literary realm, is nothing but conceit, Winterson herself, has stated differently and I agree with her. Art, she said, is our opportunity to get things right. To tell the truth. To find the ultimate reality. And she's right. Art doesn't deceive us, except on very rare occasions, and when those rare occasions do occur, we're angry with the artist.

I know that many people will read this book and wail, "But that's not real life!" Those who do should stop and reread the book once again. And even again and again if need be. It's life that tells us lies, either deliberately or by omission, life that deceives, life that denies us the rich world of fantasy and imagination and creative invention...the world that Winterson seeks and finds in her own strikingly original work.

In "The Powerbook," Winterson allows her narrator to become a part of his/her own stories, to become a character in them, to reinvent himself/herself to suit the needs of the receiver. While this book is not conventionally plotted, there are stories in "The Powerbook," and they are wonderful stories indeed. One of the best is a meandering, poetic discourse on the meaning of life and love and death. "I was happy with the lightness of being in a foreign city," Winterson writes, evoking Milan Kundera's wonderful "The Unbearable Lightness of Being," "and the relief from identity that it brings." And later, "There was such lightness in me that I had to be tied to the pommel of the saddle..."

"The Powerbook" is set in London and Paris and on the beautiful island of Capri as well as in the world of cyberspace, employing both the world of reality and the world of fantasy in the very best mix possible. The lines between reality and fantasy begin to blur in this book, but they blur in real life as well. Who can say exactly how much of an experience is "real" and exactly how much exists in the imagination?

And, as she does in every book, Winterson mesmerizes us with her images of time, or the lack of time. She explores linear time, circular time, the absence of time, the impermeability of time, the transmutation of time, time without end and on and on and on. It's fascinating, but only if you want to make the effort.

Winterson is so often accused of being possesed of literary conceit and disdain for her readers. I think this is grossly unfair criticism. Her books can be difficult and they do demand the reader's attention; one cannot flip through a Jeanette Winterson book, speed-reading on a beach under the summer sun. However, if Winterson demands attention and time and effort from her readers she also gives. I judge a book's worth, in part, by what I take with me after reading it, what becomes lasting, what changes me. With Winterson's books I am always a different person when I finish than when I began...I'm richer, smarter, more enlightened. To me, that's high praise for an author rather than criticism.

In Winterson's wonderful book, "The Passion," she writes, "I'm telling you stories. Believe me." It is the wise reader who does believe Winterson and the rewarded one who listens to her stories...again and again and again. Jeanette Winterson really is a writer with something important to say.

I have always admired Jeanette Winterson. The Passion is one of my favorite novels. I had been anticipating the release of this new novel, for it focuses on cyberspace.

Ali, an e-mail writer, has prepared a game for you. You can enter the realm of virtual reality and go everywhere you want and do anything you want to do. However, you also risk discovering things about yourself that you may not have wanted. Like all Winterson's previous novels, it has a surreal approach to romance. Also, there is the ambiguity of sexual preference and/or identity. Still, the risk is worth taking. This is a fabulous novel. The magical realism is there! Winterson has never let me down! Read it, at your own risk!

Winterson's "The PowerBook" gets better and better. Potentially one of her more esoteric and theoretical works, "PowerBook" details the virtual experiences of Ali/x and her reader (you). I'll confess that I found it a bit overwhelming at first read, but nonetheless haunting enough to give it a second go. With each repeated reading, I've come to love "The PowerBook" more and more.

Winterson's classic style, with her musings on love, life, time and desire, is in top form here. The updating and modernizing of the medium allows for new insights into the "same old topics," as well as the chance to literally re-write the plots of the characters as needed.

Though not as easily accessible as "Written on the Body" or even "Oranges Aren't the Only Fruit," I think that "The PowerBook" does ultimately surpass both in its revelations and superb writing. If you've read it once and merely liked it, read it again to love it. If you're considering reading it, jump in; be prepared to savor it again if needed. It'll be a pleasure every time.

"The Powerbook" is my first Jeanette Winterson book; which makes me unqualified to comment on her stylistic transformation from her 1985 debut, "Oranges Are Not the Only Fruit", to this, being her seventh and latest novel.
As a writer, I think her powers center around her descriptive abilities, both of fantastic and adventurous creation and the strength of this book, the Paris and Capri chapters; as well Spitalfields, and the George Mallory and Francesca & Paolo stories. Here, the reader experiences through the bodily senses the joys of these wonderous locales.
Her writing is also intimate, tender, and personal. I don't know if these are common adjectives which male book reviewers & literary critics use to disparage female writers they don't particularly care for, but Winterson combines her up-close emational style with an array of big, intellectual ideas.
The result: An insightful, original, sometimes funny and ironic piece of writing, but lacking the heavy satire and cramped, bleak nihilism that many women readers are not enamored by.
Conclusion: A book that could very easily make it to Oprah's Book Club but would prove anyone wrong who used that as a badge to discredit its marvelous contents.

This is one of the books I found pretty hard to read, allthough I'm happy I've made it trough...
First of all, it was hard for me to follow -or even find- a line in this story made up out of different other stories. To be honost: I lost track continually. I'm not sure whether this is a positive or negative remark about the book... . It was tiring, sure, but on the other hand the chaos Winterson created leaves the reader a lot of spaces to fill in for himself and I am sure that this is one of the key reasons why this book will mean different things to everybody who reads it. This was a pretty rewarding experience to me.
Secondly, Wintersons writing is very poetic. Not only in the storylines she leaves room for interpretation, also in each sentence or paragraph she handles words magically. That way it feels like a poem, and probably reads differently for everyone.
In the third place, I liked the message of this book (the message that I saw in it anyway). According to me it says one has to make himself the hero of his own lifestory.
I always like optimistic undertones, especially when the book stays realistic, as was the case with 'The powerbook'.
In short, this was a good, but tiring read. I recommend it to anyone who likes fuzzy storylines, poetry and optimistic messages...

This is the most beautiful piece of prose I've read in a very long time.

The cover and the title of the "PowerBook" are bold, startling and reflective of one another. Not only that but the red background infers both passion and power, whilst the outstretched, naked body on the bed of tulips further draws on both our sensuality and sexuality. It is marketing, it is modern and it gets our attention from the outset. Open the front cover and you find a PC, its screen reading; "Freedom for just one night". The cover alone sets the scene for what is to follow, and I, for one, was in no way disappointed by the intrigue I found.In my opinion, "The PowerBook" shows Winterson at her most imaginative and the work is particularly enticing as it is written in the first person, maximising the intimacy between reader and narrator; helping the reader share and live the fantasy.

Through the narrator, the reader is drawn into a cyberspace, dream world, controlled purely by personal desires and even momentary curiosities. As the reader is passive by definition, there seems to be even less risk in following a whim and sharing the pleasure of the narrator's fantasy world without consequences, free of the danger of suffering any repercussions in reality. But is the reader actually so passive or is this not a rather convenient, low profile position to take; sharing the fantasy without the risk of experiencing guilt or judgement? This is where the suspense increases as it is not difficult for anyone to hide their identity behind a computer screen nowadays and to live the book's fantasy for real, writing their own script, their cyber-destiny. In my opinion "The Powerbook" exemplifies how books and computers can both be used as protective and liberating shields from reality. Cyber-disguise is paralleled with literary escapism in a truly enticing manner, the main problem being that we are not free unless we are free inside ourselves, whatever the disguise.

One particularly striking element of the book is that Winterson overcomes the boundaries of time and identity, which in turn forces us to redefine freedom. Neither time nor identity is an obstacle in the world Winterson creates for us here. Everything can change at the touch of a button to suit our convenience, and yet whilst the jumps between radically different periods in history seem so magical in the book, they are also real on the internet to an extent, as so much is available in the cyber-world. And we can be free. Just for one night.Or can we? Once we have started pushing boundaries, is there not a temptation to want even more and never to be rid of the desire for freedom or of the desire to redefine it?

I adore Winterson's style, which always is magical, moving, and marvelous. Here, in "The PowerBook", she has created a book that contains a doomed love affair, potent observations about time and space, autobiographical snapshots, and vivid imagery. It's as if the narrator {sometimes called Ali, and later referred to as Orlando (a reference to Virginia Woolf)} and the lover create a world via the internet, where they change gender and geographies and centuries with ease. It reminded me of Woolf's "Orlando", as well as "Prozac Highway" by Persimmon Blackbridge, which includes a wonderful internet romance. "The PowerBook" is delightfully innovative in incorporating internet imagery into the book, and the love affair is quite beautifully written. I don't think the book ended well, especially in the last chapter section, where it seems to meander and then snaps back to a quick end. This seemed to dilute the novel, and left me a bit bewildered. I did love the novel overall, though. Winterson's use of language is always a treat.