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Fiction. Literature. HTML: In 1936 the Schwarts, an immigrant family desperate to escape Nazi Germany, settle in a small town in upstate New York, where the father, a former high school teacher, is demeaned by the only job he can get: gravedigger and cemetery caretaker. After local prejudice and the family's own emotional frailty result in unspeakable tragedy, the gravedigger's daughter, Rebecca, begins her astonishing pilgrimage into America, an odyssey of erotic risk and imaginative daring, ingenious self-invention, and, in the end, a bittersweet—but very "American"—triumph. "You are born here, they will not hurt you"—so the gravedigger has predicted for his daughter, which will turn out to be true. In THE GRAVEDIGGER'S DAUGHTER, Oates has created a masterpiece of domestic yet mythic realism, at once emotionally engaging and intellectually provocative: an intimately observed testimony to the resilience of the individual..… (more)
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At the beginning of Oates's 36th novel, Rebecca Schwart is mistaken by a seemingly harmless man for another woman, Hazel Jones, on a footpath in 1959 Chatauqua Falls, N.Y. Five hundred pages later, Rebecca will find out that the man who accosted her is a serial killer, and Oates will have
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This is a work about immigrant and survivor shame, and how it can destroy and damage lives. It is a story of emotional and physical abuse, resilience, and survival—the tale of a flawed heroine who reinvents herself over and over again merely to get by in a world that seems to conspire at every turn to do her harm. Rebecca turns into a woman running from herself—running from her past—reinventing herself at every turn of adversity. Rebecca is a woman who never has the luxury to know who she is underneath the mask of her composed and pleasant façade. Rebecca life is an open wound, a hideous secret she keeps hidden from everyone, including her husband and son.
The story spans the period from Rebecca’s birth in 1936 to her retirement years in 1999. Events do not unfold in chronological order. There are many flashbacks, often repeatedly to the same traumatic scenes as Rebecca relives them in her mind during different stages in her life.
The book has a number of ungainly segments that may leave some readers restless, rushing ahead to find where the threads of the story pick up again. In particular, I found the beginning overly long and tedious. But if readers persist, and love Joyce Carol Oates’ writing, they will be rewarded handsomely by the end of this almost-600-page novel.
Despite the dark and repeatedly violent themes, this is not a depressing story. It is a story brimming with courage—a story fascinating at almost every turn. The book provides a richly nuanced psychological study of a completely believable fictional human being. The secondary characters are vividly described and unforgettable, but most take on an almost fable-like dimension. It gives the book a strange Wizard-of-Oz feeling, like a real woman caught up in a horrific fable-like environment.
Joyce Carol Oates’ writing displays her usual exceptional mastery and literary acumen. Her writing sweeps the reader away on a torrent of emotion. In the end, everything about this book seems right, including its ungainliness and the near-otherworldly humans that populate Rebecca’s life—the overall effect is to transmit all that much more added realism to the whole. It is as if there were alchemy and synergy at work within this prose.
This book leaves the reader with a searing psychological portrait of a unique Jewish-American woman—a second-generation survivor of immigrant shame. You learn to understand Rebecca’s path from a wide-eyed innocent child, to a victim of violent physical abuse, to a guarded woman no longer capable of love, and finally to a lonely pleasant retired lady still hiding her past, but finally moderately content within herself for the person she has become, and the path it took her to get there.
I fell in love with the book’s epilogue! Perhaps, it is worth reading this entire work purely for the opportunity to read and understand this incredible ending. The epilogue brings the story around full circle—as only great literature can—and provides one of the most enjoyable, fascinating, and heartbreaking exchanges of letters that you may every find in a work of literary fiction. It is an exchange of letters between 62-year-old Rebecca, a retired lady living in a wealthy WASP retirement enclave in Florida, and her long lost cousin Freyda, now a world-renown Holocaust survivor and Professor of Anthropology at the University of Chicago. Well-situated in comfortable luxury, Rebecca despairs because she continues to feel that she does not belong—that she is living a lie. Only to Freyda does she admit who she really is.
Another good reason to read this book is that it is an unusual example of Joyce Carol Oates’ writing. The author obviously has a real affinity and love for this work. Typically Oates finishes about one novel per year. She is famous for her literary fecundity. But The Gravedigger’s Daughteris a work that Oates worked on, in bits-and-pieces, for over a dozen years. It is a highly personal tale—one based loosely on the life of her maternal grandmother, who like Rebecca’s mother, was a Jewish immigrant forced by circumstances to deny her heritage. Oates’ grandfather was a gravedigger, like Rebecca’s father. He did not kill his wife, but he did threaten her, and his daughter, and eventually committed suicide with a shotgun. So there are many parallels here, but this is a work of fiction and Oates does not consider it to be a fictional biography. Perhaps, Oates might confess that the works developed into something more akin to a forensic psychological profile—an effort to bring the personality of her late grandmother alive on the page, rather than to convey the exact details of the woman’s life.
I have always enjoyed Joyce Carol Oates’ dark tales, and this one did not disappoint. I recommend it highly for its psychological depth, vivid storytelling, and eye-opening insights into the darker realms of the human condition.
The first thing in this book that really engaged me was a kind of character that I had never encountered in fiction before. I
I found it quite interesting that in the first section of the book, when Rebecca is a girl and then through the trauma of her first marriage, the story is told from her point of view and the reader is always aware of her thoughts. However, once Rebecca sheds her birth identity and Americanizes even further, to become Hazel Jones, the reader no longer knows what is going on in her head so often and there are multiple points of view brought into the narrative. This technique is an interesting way to highlight the manner in which Rebecca/Hazel has so completely changed herself.
Anyone who is familiar with Oates' work knows that the brief plot outline I have offered doesn't even begin to include all of the threads of this story. There is a brief encounter with a serial killer, examinations of what happens to men who define themselves through a certain kinds of brute manhood when they lose power, the too cozy closeness of living in a small town where everyone knows everyone, and a million other bits an pieces.
I would highly recommend this book to anyone who enjoys thinking about the idea of identity in the United States and to anyone who just wants a really good old fashioned novel that is filled with interesting characters and realistic details.
Rebecca Schwart’s life is all about fear. From the time she is a small child, fear rules her life. Daughter of immigrants
Sadly, although Rebecca (now living under the name of Hazel Jones- even that name is a case of her becoming what someone else wants her to be) manages to make her way to a good life, she loses herself. She’s incredibly perceptive as to what people want, and very adept at giving them that. While she certainly has standards- she is firm as to what lines she will not cross- she does not present her real self to a single person. She is more mirror than human.
It’s what most every person in an abusive relationship learns to do; Rebecca just takes it much further than most do. After getting involved with her first husband, she has not pursued a single thing she really wanted to do other than raise her beloved and musically gifted son. In this novel of 580 pages, we never do find out what Rebecca wanted out of life other than to raise her son safely.
It’s a powerful book. I found it painfully long and slow, but could not stop reading, wondering if Rebecca could keep up the act and not make a misstep that would cause her house of cards to tumble down. If you want to see some of the psychological effects of being in an abusive, manipulative, relationship are, read this book. If you have been in that kind of relationship, you might find this book to be very triggering.
"The
I'm generally forgiving with Oates, but not here. Save your time and read "Mulvaneys" instead.
Rebecca marries a man twice her age when she is 17, anxious to get on with her life, desperate for love. He is a grifter. When she is 21 and their child 3, he beats her and the child, nearly killing them both. When he passes into an alcohol-incuded sleep, she takes the child and leaves. She becomes Hazel Jones, with her son, Zack. When he is four, she sets him in front of a piano in a roadside bar -- and he finds what he is meant for.
For the next 20 years, Hazel lives for Zack. She moves and moves, afraid to settle for fear "HE" will find them. She manages to get birth certificates for them both. She meets a man who plays Jazz piano. He guys Zack his own piano and gets Hazel a job in a piano store. There, Jack gets professional training. He wins scholarships in Syracuse, then Buffalo. He is a prodigy. She first lives with the man who is their benefactor, then, eventually, after learning of her first husband's death in Attica, marries him. Her son, Zack, competes, matures, falls in lvoe, becomes a world-famous pianist.
Now in her 60's, Hazel lives in Florida retirement community with her husband. She finds a memoir of a woman who is her age who was turned away in the NY Harbor in the early '50's, another Jewish refugee. This woman survived the camps. Eventually, she became a famous geneological researcher. And Hazel remembers back so many years ago, when she was Rebecca, the Gravedigger's Daughter. A Jew. A German. Waiting for her cousin to come to stay, but who is turned away in NY Harbor and is sent back. Whose family is sent to the Camps. And how this made her father insane, her mother stop speaking.
Now at the end of her life, Hazel writes to this woman and tells her of Rebecca.
How Rebecca lives on and the choices she makes, and her extraordinary and often irrational behavior is understandable only in context of her tormented early life. There is no doubt that her strength saved her many times.
By now everyone knows Oates is a master of manipulating words but I wasn’t prepared for my thoughts to be so deeply moved.
Rebecca’s family emigrated to the U.S. after the Nazi take-over in Germany. They settled in
Eventually, tragedy struck the family and Rebecca had to make her way into the world. At 17, she met Niles Tignor, who swept Rebecca off her feet and married her. Niles was trouble, probably a hired killer, and Rebecca often felt Niles’s anger through his fists and words. Once again, Rebecca was in a loveless situation – this time with a son to consider – and she must decide to leave or die.
Without giving away any spoilers, I felt that Rebecca learned from her mother’s mistakes – she encouraged her son’s musical talent, she protected him from the abuses of his father and remained there for him emotionally. For Rebecca, nothing was more important than her son’s safety and well-being – priorities at which Rebecca’s mother failed miserably.
Additionally, this story held the dark undertones of anti-Semitic behavior in post-World War II New York and the devastation of the Holocaust. Rebecca grew up not realizing she was Jewish but knew that she lost many of her relatives back home. Townspeople sprayed swastikas on her home or left them inscribed in the dirt of her driveway. She was often called “Gypsy” or “Jew” and denied both claims vehemently. It was an interesting aspect to this story.
At 582 pages, The Gravedigger’s Daughter was longer than I am usually comfortable with. I remember at the half-way point thinking, in my normal impatient way, that perhaps I would skim the last 250 pages. But Rebecca’s story entranced me, and I had to read every word to make sure she and her son were okay.
This is my second Joyce Carol Oates’ fictional book, but it certainly won’t be my last. She truly is one of America’s greatest storytellers.
It had all the hallmarks of something I ought to have liked, and indeed, I could not put it down during those first few tense chapters where we
She just kept talking and talking and talking without the story going much of anywhere. I skimmed a great deal and then finally had to accept that this was one of the few books I would simply never finish.
So, maybe I am more forward than I thought, sorry! I'd love to be convinced to finish this one, but the payoff would have to be huge.
"The Gravedigger's Daughter" isn't a perfect work. It has its self-indulgences and its dead ends. But it is several things: complete, readable, and moving. Oates' mastery of rhythmic cadence pushes her works into semi-poetic dirges, and this is no exception. The grim (though ultimately uplifting) plot pushes you through the mid-20th-century life of Rebecca, an abused, tragic daughter of immigrants (her father the eponymous digger of graves). Through a series of flashbacks and longer, chronological segments, Rebecca's life is framed by world wars, shame, bigotry, violence and Oates' well-crafted settings throughout New York state. At times hard to watch, Rebecca's life is difficult to put down, and the 600 pages slide by mostly with ease.
What is so rewarding about this, like other Oates novels, is that it's both entertaining and meaningful. I've found her works to be good escape or vacation reads (if one doesn't mind the dark subject matter--generally her endings soften the impact, anyway). "The Gravedigger's Daughter" swerves strangely in its final stretches, but leaves me, overall, satisfied.
Still, this book didn't become
But overall it's a good book. Not
When her distraught father murders her