Customer Reviews

Self

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

 

 

It is unfortunate that most people who read this book will have read "The Life of Pi" first, and will therefore be expecting another similar novel by Yann Martel. As other reviewers have shown, this proves to be a huge error in judgement. While Pi is a novel that has an easily accessible surface story, and many underlying themes that most can associate with, "Self" is a novel that requires more from the reader. You can literally float along with Pi on his journey and understand what he is going though, but the journey in Self is utterly different. While the main plots (sexuality, gender, society and fulfilling given roles) are clear at first, the real meaning is not as apparent. The switching of genders by the main character, the lesbian and gay scenes and the rape all beg questions of the reader. What is sexuality and what defines it? Is it socially based, culturally based or based within the person? The changes in the character should force the reader the reexamine preconceived notions of what it is they are reading about. "The Life of Pi" is more of a personal/spiritual journey, one that most people can relate with, and don't get me wrong, I love the book. But "Self" is a book that questions the journey of a person through society and through questions of what "makes" a person who they are; the judgements and outcomes, and therefore the inner change (generally mirrored by the outer change of the character) are merely the beginning of the story itself.

If you read "Life of Pi" and are expecting another novel of a similar genre, don't read "Self". But if you want to read another brilliant novel by Yann Martel, and go into expecting it to be different (just reading the back of the book should evoke this, with the questions it offers the reader before the story even begins), then read Self and look deeper into it than the surface story. If you do this, Self can become an even greater novel than Pi.

Happy Reading!

I received this book as a gift, and before reading it, I checked-out the reviews online. Honestly, I didn't have high expectations of the book..

But then I read it... here is some of the best quotations I have read...

"Love is a form of childhood in the way we become capable again of being wholly enthralled, able to believe so much so easily so intensely"

"--- the sort of friendship where a separation of time and space is merely a pause in an ongoing conversation"

I can quote so many others well written phrases by the Author. The book is an extremely well written, well organized exploration of the human mind.. it touches every feeling you ever thought you had in you.. it shows you the thin line between what actually happens and what takes place in our own imagination.

I would recommend this book... and next on my list to read would be other books by Yann Martel....

I like the other reviewers read 'Pi' first. I only have one question: why would anyone expect an amazing writer like Martel to turn out 'Pi' flavoured cookie cutter novels? I, for one, find it quite a refreshing turn that Martel has the depth and creativity to find such different topics to write about with such command.

There is no doubt that sex (and quite explicit for that matter) plays an important part in Martel's foray into understanding the dichotomy of humanity. However, he is not covering any unknown territory. If you can read the sexual content as part of the larger context of identity crisis, you will find that Martel is absolutely compelling, even illuminating about human nature.

Why should a reader cheer Pi more than the protagonist of 'Self'?

While this book is a very different type of read from Martel's later "Life of Pi" (which was excellent), it does seem to foreshadow one of the central themes in "Pi" - in particular, the theme of the incredible power of tragedy to transform us and our perceptions of the people around us. In this book, tragic events literally transform the gender of the protagonist (twice) and thus his/her perception of and interaction with the world. In "Pi," tragedy transforms Pi's recollection of reality in his attempt to live with his losses on a daily basis. While the gender transformation is not handled as well in "Self" as in "Middlesex" by Jeffrey Eugenides(also highly recommended), I would certainly recommend this book to Martel fans who are interested in seeing the development of this very talented writer.

After reading Life of Pi, I was looking forward to reading another Yann Martel book. Though I was suprised by the opening scene in the book I found the first half of the story quite enjoyable. As in Life of Pi, Martel gave us a glimpse of a unique and well-rounded character, following them through their childhood to the end of grade 12. It is at this point that Martel, quite fooolishly, believed he needed to change. For some unknown reason, Martel has his character switch sex while on a trip to Portugal. This idea could have been salvaged, focussing on the change in thought patterns and ideas, but for Martel, the sex changes (Yes, the character switches back at the end of the novel) simply give him an opportunity to describe in lurid detail all of the sex the character has. Gone is the charming inner voice of the story, gone are the little lessons the character learned in their experiences, gone is the plausibility of the entire character! As soon as the main character has had the first sex change, we are subjected to purely sexual relationships which include lesbians, gays, homosexuals, and even rape. Martel was on his way to creating a stunning novel about the things we learn in life. Somewhere along the way, he fell into the trap of believing the idea of "sex sells" that is so persistent in our modern culture. Martel could have had a masterpiece, created by a truely innovative Canadian author. Instead we are left with a good beginning that ends in a mess of sex, unbelivable characters, absent plot lines, poor conclusions (it seemed as if Martel simply decided to stop writing) and a total lack of any original ideas (which existed in the first half). If Martel would go back and finish the book he really started, I would gladly read it. But after this book, I am hesitant to even try another on of his books, much less recomend him to a fellow reader.

The beginning of the book gets 5 stars. It was well written, original, with a delicious narrative style which kept me turning the pages. For someone who distractedly reads 4-5 different books at the same time, this book (at least the first half) was soon the only thing I was reading. Frequently I would come across some great prose, and wonder why I had never heard of this writer until he won the booker prize. This impression, sadly, didn't last long.

Half way through the novel (incidentally soon after the character realizes he's actually female) it suddenly started to badly degenerate. Not only did it became mechanical and obsessed with female bodily functions (fell into the trap), but also centered around the boring unoriginal theme of the writer within the writer ..(yawn). It can only possibly keep interested the most adolescent of minds. I don't care to make a generalization about male writers assuming female first person - but Yann did not do this well. I started skimming, skipping entire chuncks of pages. Eventually I stopped altogether.

If you must buy this book, go to page 180, rip the book in half. Only buy the first part!

While "Self" does not resemble "Life of Pi" on the surface, the two novels make me think of siblings who look completely different but share some mannerism or whose voices sound the same over the phone. This is not to say that a novel must be beautiful to be good, but "Life of Pi" was the beautiful one. Both novels in a different sense involve identity morphing, the hidden nature of the self and its survival. Both point out the casual ubiquity of cruelty and how it is intertwined with society.

I understood "Self" as a novel about loss, what remains of one's identity after all else is stripped away, including one's idea of home, the thing that remains constant in the wilderness of a life. But the narrator is so open, guileless, without the instinct to reserve anything, that the eradication of the self is also suggested.

All of the characters form part of the strange wilderness of this novel. The Promethean narrator emerges from the enchanted forest of childhood into the jungle of young adulthood, crossing the landscapes of Canada, Greece, Turkey. Here are intersections with the characters that people one's timeline, some who disappoint, others who do not: Ruth the motherly forty-something soul mate; Tom of the week-long lie-by-omission; Roger, an emotionally frigid worshipper of Conrad; the beautiful Hungarian letter carrier, Tito. But all of them are ultimately as indifferent as nature.

There are unexpected metaphors: one's eyes being filled with fish when seeing a loved one; a certain entry that "...used to jump out at me when I flipped through my address book. Now it's an overgrown tombstone at the back of a garden." And the town of Roetown that "...had a slightly run-down aspect...but in a pleasing way, like a man you love who has buttoned his coat up wrong."

Like "Life of Pi," "Self" is not for the faint-hearted. Abstract, violent and scatological, it is certainly less accessible and less polished than its more sought-after sister, but it's a meaningful piece of literature that will affect its readers in some unpredictable way and is definitely worth reading.

Self is a novel rich in ideas, but struggles to find an engaging narrative. Maybe the (near) lack of chapters was meant as a literary device, but in practice, it impairs the book's readability. And notwithstanding the book's title, it is self-indulgent at times. Much of the story just seems to be Martel's life with the fact of his transformation to a woman being beside the point. For sure, he tried to explore the female psyche, but it seems to fall short.

Martel shows his talent and fondness for wordplay (e.g. "Change was his habit and habits are hard to change.") and metaphor ("'You could stay here', I said, a statement I hoped was a suitcase, neutral on the outside, but of changeable contents inside depending on its destination."), but unlike in the masterful Life of Pi, Martel cannot seem to organize these clever bricks into a house of meaning.

First of all, five (5) [count them: ONE TWO THREE FOUR FIVE] stars, at LEAST!

How did this author write this book? Although the plot is not terribly complicated (a young man grows up, his parents die, he becomes a part of the world and thus enters into a state of continual transformation, he changes into a woman, she changes into a man, a young man grows up), the simultaneous translation of experience into experience is nothing short of breath-taking.

I want to send Martel a big box of apple-green bubble bath, fresh organic sweet potatoes, tea (but he never told me what kind!) and a neat stack of million dollar bills. Canadian million dollar bills. I can't even organize those clever, elegant sentences to say why, so I'll break it down in my primitive way:

THE BOOK IS BRAVE: He took every bull by the horns. Even REAL bulls by REAL horns, everything, he is not afraid of anything!

THE BOOK IS ELEGANT: Like Nabokov, he does make the reader work to understand him, but the reward is so great, it felt like I went to work for minimum wage and at the end of my first shift I was paid a judge's bribe!

THE BOOK IS SMART AS HELL WITHOUT BEING PRETENTIOUS: Along with affection for his characters, Martel shows respect for his readers. One of the most endearing authors I have ever had the privilege of reading.

THE BOOK HAS SOME GIFTS WITHIN IT THAT NOBODY COULD EVER EXPECT. I'm not going to say where they are found because that would be both presumptuous and unnecessary. The book contains character sketches of individuals we have, fortunately and unfortunately, all met at times. It accurately portrays the emotions of primates and the communications of canines. It builds inexorably toward a sense of richness that is described, within the book, as "expansion." If you pick up this book and are not enthralled, (a) I don't know why so I don't know how I can speak with you about it; and (b) you will be missing something that is both intellectually and emotionally thrilling.

Thank you thank you thank you thank you Yann Martel, thank you over andover...

This book stayed with me for years after. There is something magical and wonderful about the first 50 pages, how it builds as the world does in the ages of youth. Somewhere, that beings to change, confusion, desperation. Read it now.