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Most Helpful Customer Reviews
50 of 55 people found the following review helpful:
5.0 out of 5 stars
Turn your analytical brain off and enjoy this,
This review is from: Surfacing (Paperback)
Average of Three STARS? That is an indication that some reviewers don't 'get' this book. This book, one of Atwood's earlier works, was written with a great deal of metaphor symbolism etched so skillfully into the content of the book, you may not realize that until you've reached the end, and have an "aha" experience, in some ways similar (though without the visual shock effect) to the way I felt at the end of watching Sixth Sense (the movie). If you like Margaret Atwood, you will greatly enjoy seeing her young mind at work, as she shows us the unraveling mind of a young woman looking for something in the Canadian woods one week-end. This book is effective and touching if you can move with it - but it isn't a linear-read. The missing plot and underdeveloped characters are not missing or underdeveloped at all -- read without that analytical side of the brain, and the treasures will 'surface'. Undo expectations and flow emotionally with it -- you won't be disappointed. (my original paperback version has $1.50 marked on it!). The original version is falling apart, and I wanted to own another - glad to see it is still here (oh, my but look at the price now!)
25 of 29 people found the following review helpful:
5.0 out of 5 stars
Entertaining, yet meaningful,
This review is from: Surfacing (Paperback)
I have a feeling that those who rated this book with three or less stars have no idea what the book is about. If you're searching for a bit of fluff, this is not the book to turn to. Although it isn't a difficult read, it also is not a shallow one. In fact, Margaret Atwood's searing and relentless eye for detail is in its earliest stages here. Any fan will appreciate _Surfacing_.In _Surfacing_, Margaret Atwood addresses the issue of identity as reflected by the artifice around you - both in the people you know and the person you are instructed to become. Nothing in this book is what it seems, but rather, it is a clever facade meant to impart meaning to the reader. The nameless narrator of _Surfacing_ engages in a deep journey into the wild bush of Northern Quebec, which becomes a metaphor for her process of recovering self and identity. The land is used as a backdrop for the renunciation of a distorted self-image. What this book ultimately does is provides us with insight into how we also function as individuals and just what is it that makes us who we are? Is each human being just a pastiche? Atwood gives you four fascinating characters that are peeled apart to the core and, even though it is only the main protagonist that goes through a physical journey in finding herself, we also witness the psychic journeys of those around her and realize what it means to be a man, woman, artist, a mother, father, wife, husband, and sister. No role is left untouched. _Surfacing_ is also a very entertaining book and can be read on many levels. Highly recommended!
16 of 18 people found the following review helpful:
4.0 out of 5 stars
Surfacing? Sinking? Or sunk?,
By Cipriano "www.bookpuddle.blogspot.com" (Planet Claire) - See all my reviews
This review is from: Surfacing (Paperback)
On the exterior many lives are impetuously lived, in constant motion, constant flux, demanding change... while on the inside, important wheels have long since stopped turning. Crucial questions languish, not so much from being already answered as from never having been asked. Another type of person floats along fairly steady, and constant diversion is not really an issue... but on the inside, they are a whirligig. Always asking and re-asking, backpedalling, and here in the unseen realm the action is taking place, like a duck's feet underwater.The nameless protagonist in Atwood's Surfacing is of this latter variety, contemplative and introspective. Together with three friends of the former type of personality (a married couple and her boyfriend Joe), these four drive off into the remote Quebec wilderness for a few days of R & R. This whirligig character however, has a far greater purpose in mind. She is returning here to her childhood home in search of her father who has mysteriously vanished without a trace. While these other three suntan, fish, and bicker, she is on a quest that calls forth a recollection of her entire upbringing and childhood. We sense that if she finds her father at all, it will be in a way that is as surprising to the reader as it will be to herself. She's a great character. If it wasn't for her the others would seemingly starve to death, seated at the table and surrounded by victuals but unaware of how to prepare lunch. She's the organizer, the fish-filleter, the decision-maker... hourly explaining to her friends what will happen next. She is the individual who surfaces, thinks for herself, and finds an identity within. In stark contrast are her friends who seem to only find sustenance in the pieces they can bite off of each other and ingest. As in so much of Atwood's work, these men are soon to reveal their inherent nasty dogness. On two occasions Whirligig avoids being (essentially) raped by each of them only by reminding them that it is "the right time" for her to get pregnant. But she is not a heroine without her own foibles. She realizes her own problems, the greatest of which may be her her inability to return the "love" that has been offered her throughout her life. Her detached coldness. But the importance in becoming whole (self-actualized?) may lie right there in this word "realizing", which, in the case of this novel MAY be synonymous with the word "surfacing". Throughout the book a central question seems to repeat itself... what does it mean to love? What if I don't "feel" love when someone says "I love you"? What does it mean to love one's past, one's history? To love your parents, your self... to love your lovers. And what does it mean to withdraw, to UTTERLY withdraw? These are the kind of meaty questions that surface in this book, brilliantly written and permeated with dark symbolism and a misty/ethereal 70's New-Ageyness to it. In Atwoodland, anything and everything can be a talisman. "It's true, I am by myself; this is what I wanted, to stay here alone. From any rational point of view I am absurd; but there are are no longer any rational points of view." Is Whirligig sane or insane on the last page? Surfacing or submerged? The author leaves the verdict in the hands of the reader. I enjoyed reading it, and haven't yet set the gavel down.
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