Customer Reviews

The Unusual Life of Tristan Smith

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

 

 

This remarkable book defines new territory between literary fiction and science fiction. It offers up a ringside seat to broad, concentric human and political themes that are likely to ring true many decades hence. The plot intricacies are tight, verging on being too clever, but Carey manages to lean towards the believable, producing a provocative and original book. I did not find the foreign words distracting or difficult, as did some readers. I think knowing more than one language helps. But don't let it deter you; Carey provides a glossary and footnotes to aid you in understanding the story.

The main character, Tristan Smith, has an unusual voice, not just in the physical sense, but in the sense of being the story-teller of not only the events he experienced, but also those he didn't, or was too young to remember. One cannot help but think him impulsive, willful, egotistical. It would be easy to dislike him, yet Carey must have realized Tristan's `voice' could not have been otherwise, for he was both pampered and neglected and sheltered from normal human contact, an upbringing that protected him, on the one hand, but also impeded him socially, on the other. The reader will also appreciate the irony of a man's true character being glimpsed only when he wears a mask, and the truism that a nation's character is revealed by how they treat `the least of these, my people.'

In contrast to Carey's book, we get a pretty steady diet of stories about handicapped people who triumph over impossible odds, who experience `miracle healings,' who attain a magical status, who project what we want to see, that is, they appear to be happy because they are shunned if they honestly share their pain as well as their triumphs. Thus, I believe it took real courage to write and publish this book. Carey candidly, poignantly reveals a closeted inner life, the rarely revealed or imagined existence of a person with severe limitations, the stark, impossible-to-countenance realities that we simply avoid in our daily thoughts and deeds. In the tradition of a good storeyteller, the author punctuates these revelations by surrounding Tristan with artistic/acrobatic performers, humanity's most physically blessed individuals and by nations gripped in the same struggles for survival that people experience on an individual level. This backdrop emphasizes just how deeply Tristan's powerful inner soul cries out from inside his shell that he wants the same, feels the same, IS the same right down to his genes... Carey bares the pain, the challenge, in both the inner life and the political life of the beautiful versus the not beautiful, the big versus the small, the powerful versus the powerless in the colors of blood, and laser lights, and tarnished festivals that emphasize the moment over long-term everyday courtesies and, through the maturation and evolution of the character, through the small blessed events that we selectively choose to define our humanity and our lives, that give us the stamina and drive to endure, to go on, to hope.

This book is not for everyone. It is not for the reader of light entertainment. It is a book that goes beyond surface themes while still retaining the format of a personal story, told through unforgettable characters and events. If that intrigues you, I highly recommend this book.

A recent article in Canada's GLOBE AND MAIL referred to Peter Carey's THE UNUSUAL LIFE OF TRISTAN SMITH as "the best book ever written about U.S. cultural dominance over Canada, even if that's not what Carey had in mind." Once I read that, I knew I must find the book.

To my surprise, TRISTAN is far more than the above quote suggested (although it is accurate). Carey uses the cultural dominance of one fictional country over another as a launching pad for a terrific, semi-futuristic romp through the truly unusual life of Tristan Smith, an actor/juggler with more than a few problems.

Tristan is born and raised in Efica, a small, ignored colonial country that has been fighting a long battle to be free of the machinations of it's much larger neighbour and protector, Voorstand. (While Carey likely intended this as a metaphor to the relations of Australia and England [or New Zealand and Australia], the Canada/U.S. connection comes through loud and clear.) Tristan is born to an acting family, consisting of Felicity Smith (mother/actor), Bill (father/actor), Vincent (possible father/backer), and Wally (father figure/protector). It leads to much confusion and anarchy in Tristan's life, but it's nothing compared to his real handicap.

Tristan is deformed, in a way Carey refuses to clearly define, leaving it up to our imagination. He has translucent skin, mangled legs, malformed chest, no lips, and is quite small. Often, he refers to himself as a 'squid', if that helps in picturing his physique. He might have grown up to have his own life, but due to his dependance upon the kindness of others, he finds himself caught up in schemes and plans that soon lead to his being considered a traitor and possible liability by Voorstand authorities. It sounds confusing, but Carey moves the plot forward in an extremely logical fashion.

Being unable to function on his own, Tristan becomes the ultimate observer of life, and gains an understanding of human nature that may be ignored by its more active participants. But like humanity, Tristan longs to be loved, to be accepted, and when he inadvertently takes on the persona of a religious icon of Voorstand, he comes closer to his dream.

Carey must have realized that using real countries might alienate the reader, and has succeeded in creating two completely real fictional countries, both similar and distinctly different from our own. A religion, based on animals named Bruder Mouse, Bruder Duck, etc., has been devised to explain the increasingly bizarre behaviour of the citizens of both countries. Carey never goes into too much detail, allowing the reader to see the absurdity of the practices, and also pointing out the folly of our own beliefs. It reminded me of the astonishingly vague religion Philip K. Dick created for DO ANDROIDS DREAM OF ELECTRIC SHEEP?, a mish-mash of theories and modes that lends itself to the insanity of that paricular novel. TRISTIAN's religion involves lifelike cyborgs of animated characters, which run rampant through Voorstand, often bursting onto flames, yet adored and revered by the public. It is not so important that we understand it, as it is that the characters believe it.

There is also a political subplot that underlines the story, as Tristan's mother is an ardant and important supporter of Efica's Blue Party, a left wing organization that exists on a platform of increased freedom from Voorland's reach. This is contrary to the existing power of the Red Party, which is manipulated by Voorstand agents.

Carey's talent lies in never hitting the reader over the head with the metaphors. Like the best novels, it can be read simply for pleasure's sake. It is only upon reflection do the deeper themes emerge. The Voorstanders' inability and unwillingness to comprehend the ways of Efica, and the Eficans' intolerance yet love for the ways of Voorstand, is a theme that can find parallels in almost every country you can think of.

THE UNUSUAL LIFE OF TRISTAN SMITH is an intimate portrayal of one individual. It is a political allegory. It is a retelling of the Christ parable, on par with Robert Heinlein's STRANGER IN A STRANGE LAND. It is a particularly fine novel.

I picked up this book while browsing through the book store and decided to give it a try - it surpased any of my expectations. It is part satyre of our society and pure brillance. It's very hard to put down, but when you finish it, you'll wish there was more!

To thoroughly comprehend this book, it probably helps to be Australian: although set in mythical nations Efica and Voorstand, it quite brilliantly explores the love-hate relationship which Australians have with American culture. However, tbe book never takes itself too seriously, and moves easily between comedy, tragedy and adventure. A book not to be taken on holiday, because you won't be able to put it down.

Tristan Smith is the hideously deformed child of Felicity Smith and Bill Millefleur. He grows up in the Feu Follet theatre in Efica where his mother is politically opposed to the Voorstand sirkus and influence on Efican life and culture.She is murdered by the secret service. Tristan sneeks into Voorstand,initially seeking revenge but ending up mired in political controversy dressed as Bruder Mouse....
Carey uses the outlandish and surreal and portrays it as the ordinary.To get an idea of the range and uses Carey makes of the unreal,its probably a good idea to read his collected short stories before attempting 'Tristan Smith' so you wont be caught completely unaware by his style.
Is this a satire? An allegory of the absurd? An indictment of cultural influences in a global world or of how religious beliefs alter to meet the amorality of the day?
It may well be,but if this was the books true intention it falls short on all counts. Carey, for me,always falls short of packing the full punch.You feel like you do after a chinese meal;hungry for something else an hour later!
But maybe 'Tristan Smith' should be read in the same light as Roxanne said about the Sirkus; "Why does it have to teach you? Why can't you just enjoy it?"
Does it teach? No, not really.Did I enjoy it? Yes. It is oddly readable as Careys books always are. They just lack that something that would take them to a higher level.

This is a book I read several years ago, and have recently revisited. It's weird, but haunting. I am a bit surprised (and proud?) that I seem to be the only one on the web to decode the politics and language of the book. As the other reviews make clear, the novel tells the story of a highly intelligent, observant, severely handicapped child growing up in an alternative-universe version of Earth in which Europe seems to be geographically intact, but the Western and Southern hemispheres are quite different. In the obvious place of North America is the Dutch-speaking nation of Voorstand, which economically and politically dominates the globe and is fighting an unspecified cold war of some sort. The novel concerns the politics and culture of an English-speaking Southern hemisphere island nation, which might be Carey's native Australia or perhaps New Zealand. The analogies and the political points are made clear by the coded language in the novel.

The big imperial power is called Voorstand (pseudo-Dutch for "stands for", get it? It "stands for"...the US. There is also a sexual connotation). The smaller Southern-hemisphere nation is called Efica, whose name is Dutch for the letters F, I and K, which spells something rude (and obvious) in Dutch. One of the ways in which Voorstand spreads its power is through its be-kind-to-animals religion, which is inextricably coupled with the entertainment industry called the Sirkus. The three central characters of this religion/entertainment are Bruder Mouse, Bruder Dog and Bruder Duck -- i.e. Mickey, Pluto and Donald. Don't worry, I am not ruining the plot with these observations. This is actually a wonderful book, but it helps to have some linguistic hints. It is a book about humanity, art and politics -- about freedom both political and artistic. Tristan, the central character, also "stands for" something: for how freedom survives, even though it occasionally falls humiliatingly flat on its face, in circumstances of oppression. What's great about the novel, though, is that it is not a tract, but a sprawling, complicated, often hilariously funny world delightfully different yet delightfully identical to ours. I love weird details like the sirens on trucks that sound when the drivers dare to exceed the speed limit.

The other bit of code is, of course, the reference to a much older sprawling work -- "The Life and Opinions of Tristram Shandy" (whose initials Tristan Smith shares). But don't worry, Carey's book is much more readable.

I read this book 2.5 years ago, but just decided to pick it up again for a re-read. I loved the development of fictional countries and language. I also looked the footnotes on the bottom of the pages for further information to the story. In regards to the invented language, there were times when I had to go to the back of the book for the Efica - English translation and there was none. The times I could figure the translation out on my own it was included in the translation dictionary. Oh well. Ovreall, it was a fun read.

A wierd and funny, but in the end, profound book. Carey shows us our world through the eyes of a deformed child. The "imaginary" countries are actually dead-on representations of our own-- America and probably Australia, big fish and minnow, 'culture' producer and 'culture' consumer. The paradox of puritanism and lurid spectacle that is America The Superpower. Tristan obviously comes to us via Oskar from The Tin Drum, but everything else is straight from the impressive imagination of Peter Carey.

Oscar and Lucinda is one of my all-time favourite books. When I picked up this one, I expected a similar style of writing. Maybe it's because the world Carey has created here is too detached from my own familiarity that I could not fully relate to the characters. I must admit, however, that Carey's writing does make the reader feel. I had an eery feeling towards the protagonist throughout, but could never sympathize with him. I see in the reviews from others that perhaps this book is best left to Australians who understand something of where Carey is coming from. Usually, I would say that good writing and a good story can cross any cultural boundaries, but maybe this book IS best left to the Aussies. (Even though it's probably arguable that Canada's relationship to the American cultural "superpower" is/isn't similar to Australia's relationship to the US.)

Carey has a gift for establishing an intriguing and somehow "believable" albeit fictitious environment, and I really appreciated some of the smaller, intimate sections between characters (with the exception of our boy Tristan Smith). Carey's almost on to some intrinsic quality of human nature, something very promising... and never quite delivers. Tristan himself is agonizingly bland; freakish, monstrous, petulant, and somehow simultaneously aware of it all, he still doesn't move the reader to either like or dislike him. I found myself not pitying Tristan, nor rallying behind him, so much as wishing he would quietly go elsewhere and let the other much more interesting characters take up the story. The majority of the book is delivered through Tristan's oddly flat and sterile remembrance of his childhood. I couldn't help but think of Herbert's Dune and the characters' weird abilities to somehow remember experiences of their parents while they were in utero. While Herbert pulls off the unusual device, Carey's sickly little Tristan has a narrative tone that is nothing short of odd, uncomfortable, and actually quite boring. The Sirkus is another disappointment; Tristan's muted recall dampens even the highlight of the book. Better to have written a fictitious tale of Australia, with "normal" people committing monstrous acts than use a monstrosity himself to banally reflect upon social unease. Tristan Smith is unusual; his life is not, and the difference breaks the book.