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48 of 55 people found the following review helpful:
2.0 out of 5 stars
Why does Anna Quindlen feel compelled to dumb down?, January 4, 2007
This review is from: Rise and Shine: A Novel (Hardcover)
Three-quarters of the way through this book, I had a flash of insight. Up to that point, I couldn't understand what had happened to the clever, insightful Anna Quindlen we all know and love from the New York Times, Newsweek, "One True Thing," and "Black and Blue." Then something occurred to me. Does the rise of the Oprah book club phenomenon mean that there are simply a lot more stupid people reading contemporary novels? Because I honestly felt that I was being treated like a backwoods idiot throughout this book. Understand, I have never lived in Manhattan and I don't personally know any A-List celebrities -- but nonetheless, I GET THE SIGNIFICANCE OF A BLACK TOWN CAR. For crying out loud, the vice presidents of the midsize technology company where I work use car services -- I don't need three pages of explanation for what they are and the degree of prestige they confer. For that matter, most of what Quindlen offers up as an insider's view of celebrity culture is already familiar to anyone who reads People Magazine.
Throughout the whole book, I felt as though Quindlen felt compelled to explain every detail of New York life to me as if I were a 1940s housewife from rural Nebraska, and that's when the Oprah insight came to me -- perhaps the reading public really has changed so much that the overall sophistication of Quindlen's audience has taken a nosedive. But as a writer myself -- one who will never see the well-deserved earlier successes of Anna Quindlen, whom I really do consider a fantastic essayist -- I felt like asking, "Whatever happened to the rule 'show don't tell'? Remember that one from Creative Writing 101?"
Here's the best example of what I mean, but it's only one of dozens in the novel: simply showing the 18-year-old son of a celebrity address the doorman as "Mr. Sanchez" would have been sufficient; I did not need the half-page explanation of "My nephew is a prince. Doormen and domestic help in New York are always called by their first names, but my nephew finds that direspectful and insists on calling the doorman Mr. Sanchez." (I'm paraphrasing from memory; I don't have the book in front of me.)
My point being: we get it, we get it, we get it. Show don't tell, remember? Have the rich-but-not-spoiled Manhattan teen call the doorman Mr. Sanchez and we would understand EXACTLY what you wanted us to know about the kid. That's right, even us homemakers from northern New England would get it: he's polite and deferential even though he doesn't have to be. He's a great kid. Let us figure that out ourselves.
There's another part where Quindlen gives a rather interesting explanation of how the noises of city life are silenced for the rich and privileged because they live and work in buildings with soundproof glass -- then the narrative cuts soon thereafter to a crowded apartment in a housing project and explains that it's NOISY because poor people DON'T have all that soundproofing glass -- no, they HEAR cars and helicopters and shouting. Again, any creative writing teacher who read this passage would say, "Just show me some of the noises -- a car horn or two, a mother shouting -- and the reader will be REMINDED of your point about rich people's domains being soundproof and will INFER the contrast." And then there's the part where the protagonist glimpses her brother-in-law in a restaurant and says "Any single woman in New York knows how to check out a man's dining companion by using reflections" (again, I'm paraphrasing from memory and not quoting) -- actually, anyone who has ever used a mirror knows how to do that. You don't have to be an habitue of New York's trendiest restaurants to know that you can peek in the mirror over the bar to catch a glimpse of your ex's date.
Did any other readers feel this way?
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15 of 15 people found the following review helpful:
1.0 out of 5 stars
Dull. Goes nowhere, ver-r-ry slowly., October 28, 2006
This review is from: Rise and Shine: A Novel (Hardcover)
I'm a fan of Anna Quindlen's, but other reviewers here are right when they call this book a disappointment. Anna Quindlen has a great way with words, but that alone isn't enough to make a wonderful novel. "Rise and Shine's" premise is so interesting--yet the incident at the heart of the story is never described clearly. And it was unbelievable that one incidence of saying an unflattering and vulgar word when you thought your mic was off would prompt the firing--and resultant nervous breakdown, which we never really see or understand--of a Katie-Couric-level superstar, anyway. Confusing, implausible, go-nowhere storyline. Most of the time, these characters never really came to life for me. They just seemed like convenient mouths to deliver clever Quindlen words and phrases.
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17 of 19 people found the following review helpful:
2.0 out of 5 stars
Misses all the right notes, September 30, 2006
This review is from: Rise and Shine: A Novel (Hardcover)
As a clinical social worker, I loved both Black and Blue and One True Thing and felt that Anna Quindlen was spot on in the emotional understanding of her characters.
As right on as I felt she was in these books, I felt that she missed the mark almost entirely in Rise and Shine.
The book seemed full of generalized superficial stereotypes. The hard scrabble people that Bridget worked with were really true at heart and had genuine insight into people and their motivations.
Most of the rich people depicted were nefarious and disingenuous.
Also, I was left not understanding what point the author was trying to make....was there anyone who showed heroism and the street smart intelligence that real people would have in these roles?
Here are some of the things that I questioned:
What real experienced social worker would simply be delighted to find that her young, naive nephew had a license, so he should immediately be employed driving into the dangerous areas of New York?
And, if she was that non-thinking, what experienced policeman boyfriend would not question and put a stop to this?
Where is the emotional rending, introspection and questioning of each other, the parents, aunt, and policeman boyfriend, when the not unexpected tragedy occurs?
Where is the intensive police investigation following the tragedy?
What real police department would allow a civilian to enter a building to bring out a perpetrator and just go along for the ride?
But, perhaps the line in the book that rang the most hollow to me was (spoiler alert) when Bridget, not knowing what her sister is about, just happens to turn on the t.v. to watch her sister enter the building of the perpetrator, and as emotionally charged as such a moment would be, the thought actually crosses her mind that the reporter is versed enough to know that because she is famous, Meghan's name alone is all the identification the public needs.
What real person of any substance would have such a thought in such a moment?
What was the point that the author was trying to make?
That was the question I was left with at the end of the book.
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