Status
Missing
Call number
Genres
Collection
Publication
Ballantine Books (2010)
Description
In 1954, in the cookhouse of a logging and sawmill settlement in northern New Hampshire, an anxious twelve-year-old boy mistakes the local constable's girlfriend for a bear. Both the twelve-year-old and his father become fugitives, forced to run from Coos County-to Boston, to southern Vermont, to Toronto-pursued by the implacable constable. Their lone protector is a fiercely libertarian logger, once a river driver, who befriends them. A tale that spans five decades.
Media reviews
The coy hints of connections between the author and the narrator have been forced onto a plot that can’t accommodate them, and the fact that Danny is a famous novelist too often seems a mere contrivance, giving Irving a convenient opportunity to include rambling background information and to air
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his own ideas about writing. In his bid to make something “serious,” Irving has risked distracting readers from what otherwise could be a moving, cohesive story. Show Less
I thought I was heading for another “The Cider House Rules,” my personal favorite of his novels. But the full reading experience ended up being more like “A Widow for One Year,” where one outstanding section has to carry the weight of the whole book. And at 554 pages, that’s a lot to
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carry. Show Less
Irving playfully invents a story that’s as much about the pleasures of reading one of his novels as it is anything else, until it poignantly turns into a paean for a dying art and a plea for the idea of the story. This could all seem self-indulgent. Instead, it’s Irving’s best since the
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’80s. Show Less
Irving's story is engrossing, and he gives us a satisfying assortment of fully realized characters: Carl, a cruel, ignorant police officer; Ketchum, a hard-drinking, violent logger who devotes himself to protecting the cook and his son and whose favorite exclamation is “Constipated Christ!”;
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Six-Pack Pam, whose name pretty much says it all; and Lady Sky, the aforementioned parachutist, who becomes the love of the cook's son's life. Show Less
Mr. Irving uses coincidences, cliffhanger chapter endings and other 19th-century novelistic devices to hook the reader, while at the same time orchestrating them to underscore the improbable, random nature of real life. Some of his inventions — like a murderous blue car that appears to have
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zeroed in on Danny’s son — are ludicrous at first glance, but the reader gradually comes to understand that they are writerly metaphors for the precarious nature of life in “a world of accidents.” Show Less
With his narrative fits and starts, well-worn themes and repetitiousness, Irving can seem to be almost a graceless writer. Yet while “Last Night” has those potential flaws -- I say potential because the same characteristics are an accepted part of oral narration -- it’s tightly plotted
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overall, suspenseful and ultimately evocative. Show Less
User reviews
LibraryThing member gwoodrow
I know that various book reviews have discussed this book as "quintessential Irving" for the many aspects of the book that are revisitations of earlier themes. Even Irving has acknowledged this in interviews. From an interview with Goodreads he stated:
"For a serious novelist, there are recurring
Okay, I see what you're trying to do. But I'm also not entirely buying it. You can return to familiar themes and "landscape details" without necessarily being so nakedly repetitious.
This is a point that I'm sure can be discussed at great length and I'm sure that others may see Irving's repetition differently (perhaps as a honing of his familiar themes instead of a mere revisitation), so I'll leave it be and move on to some of the other thoughts I had while reading.
It's a long book, and it jumps about somewhat haphazardly -- rambling and meandering. So perhaps I'll perform similarly in my review.
- The first thing I thought was that Irving was trying to pull what John Grisham did with A Painted House: switching from familiar, tried-and-true themes to a more iconic, Great American Novel-type story: the extended discussion of logging practices and cooking specifics, the varied cultural differences, the slice-of-Americana feel. But then he quickly changes gears back to the same old shtick he's always done. I think I just wanted to see something new from him, not just Same Old Irving or Regular American Author.
- Ketchum was a great character, though I don't feel like he really grows and develops much throughout. Even after half a century of aging he only gets a little bit of gray in his beard, and I think that little bit of gray represents how little he's changed and grown. But otherwise I really enjoyed him.
- I don't think Irving handled the flow of the story well at all. Of course there's nothing new or wrong with jumping around a bit in time. It's helpful to have a flashback to provide additional context or slipping in a little foreshadowing, but Irving is all over the place. He'll jump ahead 20 years, then flash back to get you up to speed, then show some "current" time, then flash back, then jump ahead another 20 years, then flash back. Then after another jump of several years in an entirely new section he'll flash back even earlier, to before previous flashbacks, then move ahead some and then jump back again. Confused by trying to read this? Yeah, try to keep up with 500+ pages of it. There were times that he'd be discussing certain characters as young children and then discussing their later sexual experiences without adequate transition and it could be a bit jarring. I think my biggest beef with his tendency to jump around revolved around one particular scene. About midway through the story, two women enter a restaurant. The reader knows that something big is going to happen as a result of what's been read so far. But it probably takes Irving nearly 100 pages or more to get to the action that you know is going to occur. Why? Because he jumps all over the place. Flashbacks, foreshadowing, present, foreshadowing, present, flashback, flashback-in-a-flashback. By the time the action finally comes to that scene, I didn't even care anymore because he'd drawn out the suspense far too long for it to feel urgent and important anymore. I was just ready for it to be over. He ruins a LOT of scenes that would otherwise have been great by his clumsy handling of timing. There were several major events that I should've cared about more but I was too busy getting distracted by the thought of "Oh just get ON with it."
- I often doubt Irving's sincerity in this book, and so I doubt the story. Fiction or not, when the author himself seems insincere then his story comes across as phony. You become ever more aware that you're reading a book and not having an experience. Thus even the well-constructed scenes and characters get a little lost as I was constantly reminded that they're fictional by virtue of his insincerity. I knew I wasn't crazy in thinking this once I read Irving's promotional interviews for this book. He clearly has less of a story to tell than he does a score to settle with journalists/interviewers, as well as any readers who dare to be curious about autobiographical aspects of the novel. (That's a funny point in itself which I'll get to next.) Overall, the insincerity prevents an otherwise potentially warm story from drawing the reader in. Instead it comes across like a less real warmth. Like a space heater, perhaps.
- The book lampoons people who look for autobiographical aspects in fiction. Extensively. Irving basically confirms this in interviews about the book. He obviously has little patience for people who like looking for the "real" in fiction. But at the same time, all his writing draws extensively -- and very repetitively -- on his personal experiences. Most consistently: his neverending obsession with younger men and older women having sex, as well as general sexual deviance/oddities. Then there's also sport, specifically running and wrestling. There's New England. Feelings of loss and constant exposure to death. My point is that people are going to care about the autobiographical if you rely so heavily on the autobiographical. Don't ask your readers not to care so much about autobiography while not taking your own advice. (This is a very big reason why the story feels so insincere -- because you can't be sincere if you're also being a hypocrite, in a sense.)
- I'm typically not a big fan of metafiction. I find stories within stories to be a bit tedious and rarely managed well -- especially when heavily self-referential. But Irving surprised me with how neatly the meta aspect of the story wrapped up. It was a lovely little circle that made most of the tedium of the practice worth it. But again with the repetition: he already did this so much in The World According to Garp and other stories that it took me a while to care that he was doing it a little better and different this time.
- My biggest overall thought throughout: this story could've used a tougher editor. I think Irving's reached that point of success as an author that he has the power to scoff at suggested changes and get away with it, assuming he had a true editor at all. (Anyone remember Anne Rice's meltdown when she got criticized for not having a firm editor?) Not that I'm a good writer or editor myself, but I really feel like this story could have been more than just "good" -- it could've been downright magnificent if Irving had put his trust in someone with a more aggressive red pen.
- Random thing: I think Irving had learned the word "insouciant" and really loved it just before he began writing this novel. Because I swear he uses it in every chapter, if not every other page. Let's be honest here -- any of the synonyms for "insouciant" would have worked better than that word.
I wrote down lots of other thoughts while reading this, but I figure that I've probably already bored anyone who might be reading this to sleep. (If not to death!) So I'll just stop here. Overall I did actually enjoy it, though I still maintain that I probably would've enjoyed it more had a less forgiving editor taken it to task.
"For a serious novelist, there are recurring
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obsessions; repetition is the natural concomitant of having something worthwhile to say, and repeatedly needing to say it. Bears, wrestling, New England boarding schools, violent accidents—these are the mere landscape details in much of my fiction. But loss, and the fear of losing someone dear to you—these are obsessions. Anxiety, grief, the passage of time, the perils facing children (and other loved ones)—these are huge, and lingering, obsessions, and they are oft-repeated in my novels."Okay, I see what you're trying to do. But I'm also not entirely buying it. You can return to familiar themes and "landscape details" without necessarily being so nakedly repetitious.
This is a point that I'm sure can be discussed at great length and I'm sure that others may see Irving's repetition differently (perhaps as a honing of his familiar themes instead of a mere revisitation), so I'll leave it be and move on to some of the other thoughts I had while reading.
It's a long book, and it jumps about somewhat haphazardly -- rambling and meandering. So perhaps I'll perform similarly in my review.
- The first thing I thought was that Irving was trying to pull what John Grisham did with A Painted House: switching from familiar, tried-and-true themes to a more iconic, Great American Novel-type story: the extended discussion of logging practices and cooking specifics, the varied cultural differences, the slice-of-Americana feel. But then he quickly changes gears back to the same old shtick he's always done. I think I just wanted to see something new from him, not just Same Old Irving or Regular American Author.
- Ketchum was a great character, though I don't feel like he really grows and develops much throughout. Even after half a century of aging he only gets a little bit of gray in his beard, and I think that little bit of gray represents how little he's changed and grown. But otherwise I really enjoyed him.
- I don't think Irving handled the flow of the story well at all. Of course there's nothing new or wrong with jumping around a bit in time. It's helpful to have a flashback to provide additional context or slipping in a little foreshadowing, but Irving is all over the place. He'll jump ahead 20 years, then flash back to get you up to speed, then show some "current" time, then flash back, then jump ahead another 20 years, then flash back. Then after another jump of several years in an entirely new section he'll flash back even earlier, to before previous flashbacks, then move ahead some and then jump back again. Confused by trying to read this? Yeah, try to keep up with 500+ pages of it. There were times that he'd be discussing certain characters as young children and then discussing their later sexual experiences without adequate transition and it could be a bit jarring. I think my biggest beef with his tendency to jump around revolved around one particular scene. About midway through the story, two women enter a restaurant. The reader knows that something big is going to happen as a result of what's been read so far. But it probably takes Irving nearly 100 pages or more to get to the action that you know is going to occur. Why? Because he jumps all over the place. Flashbacks, foreshadowing, present, foreshadowing, present, flashback, flashback-in-a-flashback. By the time the action finally comes to that scene, I didn't even care anymore because he'd drawn out the suspense far too long for it to feel urgent and important anymore. I was just ready for it to be over. He ruins a LOT of scenes that would otherwise have been great by his clumsy handling of timing. There were several major events that I should've cared about more but I was too busy getting distracted by the thought of "Oh just get ON with it."
- I often doubt Irving's sincerity in this book, and so I doubt the story. Fiction or not, when the author himself seems insincere then his story comes across as phony. You become ever more aware that you're reading a book and not having an experience. Thus even the well-constructed scenes and characters get a little lost as I was constantly reminded that they're fictional by virtue of his insincerity. I knew I wasn't crazy in thinking this once I read Irving's promotional interviews for this book. He clearly has less of a story to tell than he does a score to settle with journalists/interviewers, as well as any readers who dare to be curious about autobiographical aspects of the novel. (That's a funny point in itself which I'll get to next.) Overall, the insincerity prevents an otherwise potentially warm story from drawing the reader in. Instead it comes across like a less real warmth. Like a space heater, perhaps.
- The book lampoons people who look for autobiographical aspects in fiction. Extensively. Irving basically confirms this in interviews about the book. He obviously has little patience for people who like looking for the "real" in fiction. But at the same time, all his writing draws extensively -- and very repetitively -- on his personal experiences. Most consistently: his neverending obsession with younger men and older women having sex, as well as general sexual deviance/oddities. Then there's also sport, specifically running and wrestling. There's New England. Feelings of loss and constant exposure to death. My point is that people are going to care about the autobiographical if you rely so heavily on the autobiographical. Don't ask your readers not to care so much about autobiography while not taking your own advice. (This is a very big reason why the story feels so insincere -- because you can't be sincere if you're also being a hypocrite, in a sense.)
- I'm typically not a big fan of metafiction. I find stories within stories to be a bit tedious and rarely managed well -- especially when heavily self-referential. But Irving surprised me with how neatly the meta aspect of the story wrapped up. It was a lovely little circle that made most of the tedium of the practice worth it. But again with the repetition: he already did this so much in The World According to Garp and other stories that it took me a while to care that he was doing it a little better and different this time.
- My biggest overall thought throughout: this story could've used a tougher editor. I think Irving's reached that point of success as an author that he has the power to scoff at suggested changes and get away with it, assuming he had a true editor at all. (Anyone remember Anne Rice's meltdown when she got criticized for not having a firm editor?) Not that I'm a good writer or editor myself, but I really feel like this story could have been more than just "good" -- it could've been downright magnificent if Irving had put his trust in someone with a more aggressive red pen.
- Random thing: I think Irving had learned the word "insouciant" and really loved it just before he began writing this novel. Because I swear he uses it in every chapter, if not every other page. Let's be honest here -- any of the synonyms for "insouciant" would have worked better than that word.
I wrote down lots of other thoughts while reading this, but I figure that I've probably already bored anyone who might be reading this to sleep. (If not to death!) So I'll just stop here. Overall I did actually enjoy it, though I still maintain that I probably would've enjoyed it more had a less forgiving editor taken it to task.
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LibraryThing member readaholic12
Like so many other reviewers, I count John Irving among my favorite authors, though I've found some of his later works laborious. Last Night in Twisted River is one I'm still undecided about, as I have not finished it yet. I became stuck by page 70, worn down by the meandering plot, tedious detail
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and parenthetical asides. I began rereading at the urging of my fellow reviewers, and found that the story and character connections improved by the time I finished the first third of the book, although the incessant use of parantheses seems a constant. I found myself giving in to John Irving and his craft, as he is an extremely talented writer, but I felt at times he asked too much of me as a reader. Perhaps I am spoiled, or softening. I do want to know the fate of these characters and I will finish the back half of the book, having been sidelined by swine flu and the holiday rush. I'll update my review when I'm done and hope I find this on par with Mr. Irving's best, as I want to love this book too. Show Less
LibraryThing member terrybanker
Last Night at Twisted River
By John Irving
It took a while, but I finally figure out the chip that John Irving carries for/against U.S. politics that have besmirched his work for the last twenty years, or more specifically, since his last really good book, The Cider House Rules.
Granted, one (say,
Instead, Twisted takes place in the U.S. and Canada, where the author in several hundred page rants, gets away from the story to heckle U.S. Foreign policy while he keeps telling (not showing) the reader that He Really Isn’t the Anti U.S. Author. But like any addict who tells you (not shows you) that he isn’t an addict, you just don’t trust him.
To be fair to new authors today, this book would never have been published had today’s higher book standards been applied. The book’s biggest problem is the story premise is so unbelievable in any suspension of disbelief:
Premise: a boy accidentally kills his dad’s lover.
This in and of itself is a valid premise. Instead of reporting the incident to the police, local or state, the protagonist and his son (the accidental murderer) return the dead woman to her house, where she lives with a drunken sheriff. The Protag’s plan? Pretend they weren’t involved, pretend the sheriff did it and doesn’t remember, but flee anyway.
The reader says to himself: this couldn’t possibly the inciting incident. But wait, there’s more. What if we went along with the seasoned author and say, Fine, weird story premise, but let’s see where you take it. And where does The Famous Author take the story?
For hundreds of pages, the Protag and his son run from their past in attempt to run out of pages in this long book. Thirty years later, the sheriff is still chasing them. WHY? No emotional bond was ever established between the characters to Show that this is the only course of action the story would take?
In today’s book world, any person would ask the author, “Okay, so why do they run and/or why don’t they admit to the accident and deal with things on the real basis? And for this question, the author has no response. By saying the sheriff carried a grudge, this is not enough to fuel a 557 page book. The premise failed.
Of course, the Protag and his son spend time hiding here and there and changing their names back and forth, until of course, they hide in Canada where the son of the Protag becomes the primary Protag and, of course, becomes a world-famous author, like the Real Author, and spends hundreds of pages defending his patriotism and why he marries his agent and moves to Toronto. Oh, wait, that’s real life. In the book, the new protagonist (the previous protagonist’s son, moves to Toronto and pines for an Amazon woman (think the transgendered Tight End/bodyguard in Garp), whom he met once, what twenty? Thirty? years before. Why? Why, indeed.
The book is a surreal velvet rope, offering up a lean barrier between The Author and reader, and tells us over and over (while failing to show us) that the author is not anti-American. So what does The Author want us to believe? That we would knowingly read about a story based on a failed premise for 557 pages and believe that relocating from the U.S. to Canada is just because the Protag wanted privacy? Hmm. Perhaps you see my dilemma.
Now, the good things: the writing, as in the words, the sentences, the images, are beautiful and amazing. Even the lamest story idea offers proof that John Irving can write better than most people live.
Ultimately, I must give the story 2 stars out of 5. Beautiful writing, Irving’s blend of images and story is perfect, yet his story premise is thinner than a butterfly’s wings. This book wouldn’t have sold in today’s competitive market, and sadly, this book will take up necessary shelf space in today’s thinning bookstores, where new and interesting books and authors might have been displayed.
If I were related to The Author, I’d get him drunk and remind him that we already love him and his work. It’s amazing, I’d remind him. What we don’t need is a story about nothing. And we really don’t need hundred of pages for $27 about nothing. The Author needs family, family, and editors who will tell him the truth.
We want good stories like Garp and Cider House and Owen Meany without the unnecessary John Irving baggage. We’ll give you another chance. We love you and we only have your best literary interests at heart. Even though I love Canadians, I don’t want to read about another Irving Protag who either hides in Canada or travels to Vienna for any reason. I want a solid Irving tale of finding love in a lonely world.
By John Irving
It took a while, but I finally figure out the chip that John Irving carries for/against U.S. politics that have besmirched his work for the last twenty years, or more specifically, since his last really good book, The Cider House Rules.
Granted, one (say,
Show More
me) could say that A Prayer for Owen Meany was a great book, but that it foreshadowed works to come, where the theme also becomes: I am THE Anti-American famous writer. If you recall, the story of Owen Meany stood perfectly fine on its own without adding anti-Vietnam hate speech, and the same is true with Irving’s books that followed. Think A Widow for One year or The Fourth Hand. These stories needed no mention of Vietnam—whether you were for or against the war, or never cared (or wasn’t born yet). For Irving, ripping on Viet Nam in one of his books is equivalent to relocating to Vienna, which (Thanks heavens) does not happen in Last Night in Twisted River. Instead, Twisted takes place in the U.S. and Canada, where the author in several hundred page rants, gets away from the story to heckle U.S. Foreign policy while he keeps telling (not showing) the reader that He Really Isn’t the Anti U.S. Author. But like any addict who tells you (not shows you) that he isn’t an addict, you just don’t trust him.
To be fair to new authors today, this book would never have been published had today’s higher book standards been applied. The book’s biggest problem is the story premise is so unbelievable in any suspension of disbelief:
Premise: a boy accidentally kills his dad’s lover.
This in and of itself is a valid premise. Instead of reporting the incident to the police, local or state, the protagonist and his son (the accidental murderer) return the dead woman to her house, where she lives with a drunken sheriff. The Protag’s plan? Pretend they weren’t involved, pretend the sheriff did it and doesn’t remember, but flee anyway.
The reader says to himself: this couldn’t possibly the inciting incident. But wait, there’s more. What if we went along with the seasoned author and say, Fine, weird story premise, but let’s see where you take it. And where does The Famous Author take the story?
For hundreds of pages, the Protag and his son run from their past in attempt to run out of pages in this long book. Thirty years later, the sheriff is still chasing them. WHY? No emotional bond was ever established between the characters to Show that this is the only course of action the story would take?
In today’s book world, any person would ask the author, “Okay, so why do they run and/or why don’t they admit to the accident and deal with things on the real basis? And for this question, the author has no response. By saying the sheriff carried a grudge, this is not enough to fuel a 557 page book. The premise failed.
Of course, the Protag and his son spend time hiding here and there and changing their names back and forth, until of course, they hide in Canada where the son of the Protag becomes the primary Protag and, of course, becomes a world-famous author, like the Real Author, and spends hundreds of pages defending his patriotism and why he marries his agent and moves to Toronto. Oh, wait, that’s real life. In the book, the new protagonist (the previous protagonist’s son, moves to Toronto and pines for an Amazon woman (think the transgendered Tight End/bodyguard in Garp), whom he met once, what twenty? Thirty? years before. Why? Why, indeed.
The book is a surreal velvet rope, offering up a lean barrier between The Author and reader, and tells us over and over (while failing to show us) that the author is not anti-American. So what does The Author want us to believe? That we would knowingly read about a story based on a failed premise for 557 pages and believe that relocating from the U.S. to Canada is just because the Protag wanted privacy? Hmm. Perhaps you see my dilemma.
Now, the good things: the writing, as in the words, the sentences, the images, are beautiful and amazing. Even the lamest story idea offers proof that John Irving can write better than most people live.
Ultimately, I must give the story 2 stars out of 5. Beautiful writing, Irving’s blend of images and story is perfect, yet his story premise is thinner than a butterfly’s wings. This book wouldn’t have sold in today’s competitive market, and sadly, this book will take up necessary shelf space in today’s thinning bookstores, where new and interesting books and authors might have been displayed.
If I were related to The Author, I’d get him drunk and remind him that we already love him and his work. It’s amazing, I’d remind him. What we don’t need is a story about nothing. And we really don’t need hundred of pages for $27 about nothing. The Author needs family, family, and editors who will tell him the truth.
We want good stories like Garp and Cider House and Owen Meany without the unnecessary John Irving baggage. We’ll give you another chance. We love you and we only have your best literary interests at heart. Even though I love Canadians, I don’t want to read about another Irving Protag who either hides in Canada or travels to Vienna for any reason. I want a solid Irving tale of finding love in a lonely world.
Show Less
LibraryThing member alaskabookworm
Last week at book group in discussing books we’d lately been reading, I brought out my copy of John Irving’s latest, Last Night in Twisted River, and passed it around. Upon reading the back cover of the book, one of the gals (my sixth grade son’s current teacher) excited exclaimed that she
I have read all of John Irving’s books, mostly in order: as a teen he was the first “literary” writer I ever read. By the time A Prayer for Owen Meany was published, I was invested enough in Irving’s writing that I bought it immediately in hardback. It may very well be the first hardcover new release book I ever bought. It continues to be my favorite book of all time. Irving taught me how to look not only at fiction in a way that none of my English classes ever taught, but also to look at myself and other people through different eyes: the eyes of a writer. Irving’s characters have always been seemingly quirky and strange, but really, they are Everyman. Irving gets inside the human psyche, mixing pathos and humor with humanity’s forever-misguided attempts to find connection. It is this unique, but often hopeful blend, that makes me love his stories.
John Irving does not disappoint in his latest novel, Last Night in Twisted River.
One of the elements that makes Last Night in Twisted River so engaging is the self-referential nature of the book. Though the book isn’t “biographical”, one of the characters becomes a famous author. Irving plays with his own authorial history to convincingly flesh-out this character. Readers unfamiliar with Irving will miss a great deal of playfulness and delight in what is often a pathos-filled story.
Last Night spans a fifty year period of time; three generations pass through the story. It reads at times more like stream-of-consciousness note-taking than a novel. It is meandering and there are often large gaps in time and character development. However, this is a highly structured and intentional novel. Every chapter feels a bit like a visit from an old friend, which is what his wonderfully drawn characters become. Much happens in the years between visits; there is a lot to catch up on both on a micro and macro level. From a lesser author, this might not have worked. The book might have been disjointed, but a master like Irving pulls the reader in and doesn’t let go. This is purely “relational” story; a kind of conversation.
While there are shocking moments, Irving doesn’t play them with shock value (though he could). He simply says what needs to be said and lets the reader’s imagination sort through the rest. The resulting tension is often insistent and unarticulated. You know that something is going to happen, or perhaps has already happened, always attendant is a sense of foreboding. Irving plays with what may well be some of the deepest fears of mankind – the loss of a loved-one, how people can run away from devastating loss for only so long. Loss is out there; it will happen; it is the “when” and the “how” we don’t know and that haunts us most. And it is this strange tension that Irving plays up and with.
Last Night in Twisted River is not a book that should be (maybe it can’t be) read quickly. I’ll admit: it took me several weeks to read it. Several times I put it down to read something else. I’m glad I did. Irving’s story isn’t “fast food” to be wolfed down untasted; it is fine cuisine and should be as carefully enjoyed. This is a book that should be savored; it should be allowed to marinate and the flavors to blend.
Especially for those who have read John Irving’s other work, this book is a treat. My bets on a major literary award for this one.
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grew up in Coos County, where much of the action in Last Night originates. That seemed oddly coincidental, and piqued everyone’s interest in the book; but I warned the interested readers of this group that if they really want to appreciate it, they must first read all of John Irving’s previous books. They laughed. I assured them I was totally serious.I have read all of John Irving’s books, mostly in order: as a teen he was the first “literary” writer I ever read. By the time A Prayer for Owen Meany was published, I was invested enough in Irving’s writing that I bought it immediately in hardback. It may very well be the first hardcover new release book I ever bought. It continues to be my favorite book of all time. Irving taught me how to look not only at fiction in a way that none of my English classes ever taught, but also to look at myself and other people through different eyes: the eyes of a writer. Irving’s characters have always been seemingly quirky and strange, but really, they are Everyman. Irving gets inside the human psyche, mixing pathos and humor with humanity’s forever-misguided attempts to find connection. It is this unique, but often hopeful blend, that makes me love his stories.
John Irving does not disappoint in his latest novel, Last Night in Twisted River.
One of the elements that makes Last Night in Twisted River so engaging is the self-referential nature of the book. Though the book isn’t “biographical”, one of the characters becomes a famous author. Irving plays with his own authorial history to convincingly flesh-out this character. Readers unfamiliar with Irving will miss a great deal of playfulness and delight in what is often a pathos-filled story.
Last Night spans a fifty year period of time; three generations pass through the story. It reads at times more like stream-of-consciousness note-taking than a novel. It is meandering and there are often large gaps in time and character development. However, this is a highly structured and intentional novel. Every chapter feels a bit like a visit from an old friend, which is what his wonderfully drawn characters become. Much happens in the years between visits; there is a lot to catch up on both on a micro and macro level. From a lesser author, this might not have worked. The book might have been disjointed, but a master like Irving pulls the reader in and doesn’t let go. This is purely “relational” story; a kind of conversation.
While there are shocking moments, Irving doesn’t play them with shock value (though he could). He simply says what needs to be said and lets the reader’s imagination sort through the rest. The resulting tension is often insistent and unarticulated. You know that something is going to happen, or perhaps has already happened, always attendant is a sense of foreboding. Irving plays with what may well be some of the deepest fears of mankind – the loss of a loved-one, how people can run away from devastating loss for only so long. Loss is out there; it will happen; it is the “when” and the “how” we don’t know and that haunts us most. And it is this strange tension that Irving plays up and with.
Last Night in Twisted River is not a book that should be (maybe it can’t be) read quickly. I’ll admit: it took me several weeks to read it. Several times I put it down to read something else. I’m glad I did. Irving’s story isn’t “fast food” to be wolfed down untasted; it is fine cuisine and should be as carefully enjoyed. This is a book that should be savored; it should be allowed to marinate and the flavors to blend.
Especially for those who have read John Irving’s other work, this book is a treat. My bets on a major literary award for this one.
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LibraryThing member kshaffar
I love John Irving. I became a writer because of John Irving. That said, Last Night in Twisted River was not his best.
The story of a cook and his son and an angry companion was touching in spots and unrelentingly repetitive in others. As usual, the characters are magnificently drawn, the details
Yet the story doesn’t move for long stretches of time and the premise was too fantastical even for Irving. I am willing to suspend my belief for him and go along for the ride, but the idea that “the cowboy” was still chasing them so many years later was never fully realized for me. Why this obsession with them? Also, was there never a moment of guilt for Danny after what he'd done? I won't ruin it here, but he never mentions it again, as if a person can do something like that and never again give it a thought. Even after 500 some odd pages, I just didn’t get it. Nor did I buy that everyone lived to be so old and in such good shape—including the dog.
Still it is Irving, and he has the power to blow you away with every sentence. So that even when I was lulled into a sort of torpor where I was trying skimming so that I could get to the next thing that might move the plot along, one sentence would shock me back into full attention.
This book in another author's hands would have been dreadful. Instead, it just wasn’t one of my favorites in an opus I hope never ends.
The story of a cook and his son and an angry companion was touching in spots and unrelentingly repetitive in others. As usual, the characters are magnificently drawn, the details
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chosen with such finesse that it’s impossible to remain unmoved.Yet the story doesn’t move for long stretches of time and the premise was too fantastical even for Irving. I am willing to suspend my belief for him and go along for the ride, but the idea that “the cowboy” was still chasing them so many years later was never fully realized for me. Why this obsession with them? Also, was there never a moment of guilt for Danny after what he'd done? I won't ruin it here, but he never mentions it again, as if a person can do something like that and never again give it a thought. Even after 500 some odd pages, I just didn’t get it. Nor did I buy that everyone lived to be so old and in such good shape—including the dog.
Still it is Irving, and he has the power to blow you away with every sentence. So that even when I was lulled into a sort of torpor where I was trying skimming so that I could get to the next thing that might move the plot along, one sentence would shock me back into full attention.
This book in another author's hands would have been dreadful. Instead, it just wasn’t one of my favorites in an opus I hope never ends.
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LibraryThing member TooBusyReading
I don't like telling much about plots in my reviews because when I read a review, I want to know what people think of the book, not much detail about the story itself. This story begins in a logging camp in New Hampshire with the drowning of a young logger and ends a half a century later in Ontario
I love most of John Irving's novels, and A Prayer for Owen Meany is one of my all-time favorite books. That's why I was disappointed when I initially didn't love Last Night in Twisted River. While it started on a high note, the story bogged down for me. I was annoyed by what seemed to me an overuse of italics to emphasize certain single words within sentences. I thought the novelist in the story, who published successful novels, complained too much about how the media wanted to know about the autobiographical nature of novels while he, most unconvincingly, denied it at the same time he was revealing plots that mirrored his own life. The book was divided into sections of time and place, and there was quite a bit of time shifting that was initially hard to form into a congruous whole. There was repetition, so much repetition.
Eventually, all of this began to fall into place for me, and became like the proverbial snake swallowing its own tail. By the end of the book, I loved the whole story and, once again, truly appreciated Mr. Irving's style of storytelling.
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with a writer who had been at the camp as a child. In between are three generations of family, unforgettable characters, both enemies and friends, and a story that ultimately captured my imagination and appreciation. Enough plot. I love most of John Irving's novels, and A Prayer for Owen Meany is one of my all-time favorite books. That's why I was disappointed when I initially didn't love Last Night in Twisted River. While it started on a high note, the story bogged down for me. I was annoyed by what seemed to me an overuse of italics to emphasize certain single words within sentences. I thought the novelist in the story, who published successful novels, complained too much about how the media wanted to know about the autobiographical nature of novels while he, most unconvincingly, denied it at the same time he was revealing plots that mirrored his own life. The book was divided into sections of time and place, and there was quite a bit of time shifting that was initially hard to form into a congruous whole. There was repetition, so much repetition.
Eventually, all of this began to fall into place for me, and became like the proverbial snake swallowing its own tail. By the end of the book, I loved the whole story and, once again, truly appreciated Mr. Irving's style of storytelling.
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LibraryThing member strongstuff
John Irving is a first-rate story-teller and he does not disappoint with 'Last night in Twisted River.' From the backwoods of northern New Hampshire, to mid 20th-century Boston, to contemporary Canada, Irving steers the reader through more than 50 years of the Baciagalupo's history. In this "world
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of accidents" we come to learn how quickly people can appear and disappear from our lives. Although a bit lengthy, the novel satisfies with rich details and quirky characters - not to mention glimpses of the author's own writing habits and history. Well done. Show Less
LibraryThing member JohnAdcoxCarolBales
I’ll start with by answering the question that (I imagine) John Irvings’ many fans—assuming that there are any who haven’t read this yet—are asking. Yes, the John Irving who wrote Last Night in Twisted River is the good John Irving, the one who produced The World According to Garp and A
In a television interview about Until I Find You (the vague citation is due to the fact that I can’t remember where I saw it, but I think it was this one), John Irving talked about rewriting the novel and removing the first=person narration to make it less personal—to distance himself, a bit, from the fire of the somewhat autobiographical events. Alas, it also distanced us, the readers. I am happy to report that Last Night in Twisted River is the product of an author completely unafraid to brave the danger and plunge deeply into the river that twists through his own psyche. The journey, part Twain, part Dickens, and all Irving, is one well worth taking.
Oh, and the answer to one other question that Irving fans will be asking: yes, there are bears in Last Night in Twisted River, although the remain just off stage. There’s even a wrestler or two, and the shadow of boarding school.
The novel begins at a mid-20th Century logging camp, where a series of three tragedies, each more gut-wrenching than the last, sends widower and camp cook Dominic Baciagalupo and his son Danny on a rootless journey into exile. The rest of the novel follows father and son over five decades as they travel to a Boston Italian restaurant, an Iowa City Chinese place, and finally to a Toronto French cafe, all while never really leaving the past behind.
As they travel, Danny evolves into a distinctly Irving-esque writer. The novel is structured in a winding sort of way that keeps twisting (like, well, a river) back around on itself, moving backward and forward in time to show how events, both accidental and arranged, shape, wound, and temper the life and career of a budding novelist. Yes, that makes the novel seem at times redundant, while at others morsels of plot are dangled in a tantalizing way—and we don’t see the consequences until much later. That didn’t bother me. The stark, lean sentences and well-crafted main characters earned enough trust to keep me turning the pages. Sometimes late into the night.
It’s not a perfect novel. Outside of Danny and his father, and the old logger Ketchum, few of the characters seem to grow beyond one dimension. They are types. The novel feels a bit self-indulgent at times, and critics will certainly be combing the pages for hints of autobiography. Nonetheless, it’s still an utterly fascinating read. If you’re not an Irving fan, I can’t say that this is the book that’s likely to change your mind. Thankfully, if you are a fan, it’s not likely to change your mind, either. In many ways, it’s a return to form. If there are elements that will remind you of earlier novels, and there most likely will be, they are viewed (or reviewed) from a fresh enough perspective to make them as interesting as ever. Irving certainly isn’t the first author to revisit a theme. I suppose that, like a Dickens story, there are elements (or archetypes) that make an Irving novel distinct, a part of his personal mythology, as it were. Revisiting expands, rather than diminishes, them.
This is an Irving novel that belongs on the shelf with Garp, Owen Meany, and The Cider House Rules. It’s quintessential Irving, and it’s a welcome return of an author re-achieving, if not actually exceeding, his previous heights. It’s a fascinating, revealing, and engaging read, and one I am certain that I will return to again.
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Prayer for Owen Meany, not the John Irving who produced the flawed (albeit still interesting) Until I Find You.In a television interview about Until I Find You (the vague citation is due to the fact that I can’t remember where I saw it, but I think it was this one), John Irving talked about rewriting the novel and removing the first=person narration to make it less personal—to distance himself, a bit, from the fire of the somewhat autobiographical events. Alas, it also distanced us, the readers. I am happy to report that Last Night in Twisted River is the product of an author completely unafraid to brave the danger and plunge deeply into the river that twists through his own psyche. The journey, part Twain, part Dickens, and all Irving, is one well worth taking.
Oh, and the answer to one other question that Irving fans will be asking: yes, there are bears in Last Night in Twisted River, although the remain just off stage. There’s even a wrestler or two, and the shadow of boarding school.
The novel begins at a mid-20th Century logging camp, where a series of three tragedies, each more gut-wrenching than the last, sends widower and camp cook Dominic Baciagalupo and his son Danny on a rootless journey into exile. The rest of the novel follows father and son over five decades as they travel to a Boston Italian restaurant, an Iowa City Chinese place, and finally to a Toronto French cafe, all while never really leaving the past behind.
As they travel, Danny evolves into a distinctly Irving-esque writer. The novel is structured in a winding sort of way that keeps twisting (like, well, a river) back around on itself, moving backward and forward in time to show how events, both accidental and arranged, shape, wound, and temper the life and career of a budding novelist. Yes, that makes the novel seem at times redundant, while at others morsels of plot are dangled in a tantalizing way—and we don’t see the consequences until much later. That didn’t bother me. The stark, lean sentences and well-crafted main characters earned enough trust to keep me turning the pages. Sometimes late into the night.
It’s not a perfect novel. Outside of Danny and his father, and the old logger Ketchum, few of the characters seem to grow beyond one dimension. They are types. The novel feels a bit self-indulgent at times, and critics will certainly be combing the pages for hints of autobiography. Nonetheless, it’s still an utterly fascinating read. If you’re not an Irving fan, I can’t say that this is the book that’s likely to change your mind. Thankfully, if you are a fan, it’s not likely to change your mind, either. In many ways, it’s a return to form. If there are elements that will remind you of earlier novels, and there most likely will be, they are viewed (or reviewed) from a fresh enough perspective to make them as interesting as ever. Irving certainly isn’t the first author to revisit a theme. I suppose that, like a Dickens story, there are elements (or archetypes) that make an Irving novel distinct, a part of his personal mythology, as it were. Revisiting expands, rather than diminishes, them.
This is an Irving novel that belongs on the shelf with Garp, Owen Meany, and The Cider House Rules. It’s quintessential Irving, and it’s a welcome return of an author re-achieving, if not actually exceeding, his previous heights. It’s a fascinating, revealing, and engaging read, and one I am certain that I will return to again.
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LibraryThing member FolkeB
Last Night in Twisted River is set in a logging settlement in northern New Hampshire. The book opens with a young Canadian boy drowning at the camp. A second accident happens quickly after when Daniel Baciagalupo mistakes a woman for a bear and shoots her. Both Daniel and his father Dominic become
The book's plot was very slow moving, and the character development was minimal. Although Irving tells several stories of each character, the stories don’t help the reader understand who the characters actually are. Although Irving’s voice is strong, and at times does a phenomenal job of story telling, there were far too many cases in which I felt like he was rambling. If you are into very detailed and in-depth writing, this book is for you. In the middle of the book, Irving jumps back and forth in time in the lives of Daniel and Dominic, which at times makes the plot very hard to follow. However, the ending of the novel makes the middle section worth reading.
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fugitives, forced to run from town to town in attempt to elude the man that is pursuing them. Their sole guardian is a logger from Coos County that befriends them. As the story progresses, Dominic and Daniel struggle to find steady footing as they attempt to protect each other. Without fail, they make mistake after mistake, sometimes comical, but in some cases fatal.The book's plot was very slow moving, and the character development was minimal. Although Irving tells several stories of each character, the stories don’t help the reader understand who the characters actually are. Although Irving’s voice is strong, and at times does a phenomenal job of story telling, there were far too many cases in which I felt like he was rambling. If you are into very detailed and in-depth writing, this book is for you. In the middle of the book, Irving jumps back and forth in time in the lives of Daniel and Dominic, which at times makes the plot very hard to follow. However, the ending of the novel makes the middle section worth reading.
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LibraryThing member invisiblelizard
I've been a huge John Irving fan since I read Garp back in high school, and I still count Owen Meany among my all-time favorite novels. Twisted River feels like his most autobiographical attempt to date (similarities with Irving's life are aplenty: New Hampshire, Iowa Writer's Workshop, tutelage
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under Kurt Vonnegut, writes a novel about abortion set in an orphanage), which is saying something since most of his novels are a little autobiographical, and yet I wasn't nearly as interested. Perhaps it was the way a lot of this felt re-hashed (pitfall to always writing sort of autobiographical material). Perhaps it was the rambling way the narrative looped us through almost 50 years. It almost felt to me like Irving didn't know (or didn't care) where he was going. But I'll let that be my only complaint. The man can certainly string together a good set of words, and as such he's always a pleasure to read. So this didn't feel like his best constructed story. So this isn't my favorite from his collection. That's not really a negative review. I still count Son of the Circus as his hardest to read (never finished it), and this one flowed much better for me. I'll give it four stars out of pure love for the man's work, but it might have been a shade under that. Show Less
LibraryThing member libraryhermit
I don't mind if an Irving book is long. Some of the reviews recently given here indicate that they wanted more pruning and editing. Once I get hooked on an Irving book, I don't mind going for the long haul, because every single one of his books has been a page-turner,
Sign me up for the next one; I'm hooked on this author, no matter what he does.
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drop-all-other-activities-except-going-to-work-and-completely-ignore-your-family mode. Books are like my TV and movies because I don't watch TV or movies. So 3 1/2 hours or 6 hours for an Irving book doesn't matter because I know some people who watch that much TV in one or two days. When I am in an Irving book, I am escaping from my normal everyday life, so the longer the better.Sign me up for the next one; I'm hooked on this author, no matter what he does.
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LibraryThing member Kasthu
Spanning the course of over fifty years, Last Night in Twisted River is the story of Danny Baciagalpo/Angel, the son of a logging camp cook. One evening, he and his father are forced to flee Twisted River, and they spend pretty much the rest of their lives on the run from a crazy and (as it turns
The quirky plot and characters are pure John Irving. There’s a lot here that he’s visited before (there are the ghosts of boarding schools, bears, and wrestlers in Last Night in Twisted River), but Irving delves into new territory with his latest novel. I’ve always thought of John Irving’s books are being somewhat autobiographical—with embellishments. Danny Angel is a famous author; the plot of one of his novels even sounds suspiciously like parts of The Cider House Rules. As Irving says:
“In the media, real life was more important than fiction; those elements of a novel that were, at least, based on personal experience were of more interest to the general public than those pieces of the novel-writing process that were ‘merely’ made up. In any piece of fiction, weren’t those things that had really happened to the writer—or, perhaps, to someone the writer had intimately know—more authentic , more verifiably true, than anything that anyone could imagine?”
True, but John Irving’s novels, even the parts that are purely made up, are always interesting—so maybe the converse is true as well? Maybe pure fantasy can also be entirely believable?
True, the sex parts of the novel can be a bit off-putting (Irving seems a bit obsessed with the idea of overweight people having sex; Danny has a thing for one of Dominic’s girlfriends). Dominic and Danny’s girlfriends never really emerge out of one dimension (maybe because they don’t ever stay around all that long in the first place). The novel does jump around in time, which can be confusing in some places (especially when it comes to differentiating between what’s happening in the present and what’s being remembered by one or more of the characters. Still, I enjoyed this quirky, offbeat novel. Irving’s novels are always a pleasure to read, and this one is no exception.
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out) a not-so-dumb sheriff. The novel takes us from New England in the ‘50s, to Iowa in the ‘60s, then to New England again, and Toronto in 2005.The quirky plot and characters are pure John Irving. There’s a lot here that he’s visited before (there are the ghosts of boarding schools, bears, and wrestlers in Last Night in Twisted River), but Irving delves into new territory with his latest novel. I’ve always thought of John Irving’s books are being somewhat autobiographical—with embellishments. Danny Angel is a famous author; the plot of one of his novels even sounds suspiciously like parts of The Cider House Rules. As Irving says:
“In the media, real life was more important than fiction; those elements of a novel that were, at least, based on personal experience were of more interest to the general public than those pieces of the novel-writing process that were ‘merely’ made up. In any piece of fiction, weren’t those things that had really happened to the writer—or, perhaps, to someone the writer had intimately know—more authentic , more verifiably true, than anything that anyone could imagine?”
True, but John Irving’s novels, even the parts that are purely made up, are always interesting—so maybe the converse is true as well? Maybe pure fantasy can also be entirely believable?
True, the sex parts of the novel can be a bit off-putting (Irving seems a bit obsessed with the idea of overweight people having sex; Danny has a thing for one of Dominic’s girlfriends). Dominic and Danny’s girlfriends never really emerge out of one dimension (maybe because they don’t ever stay around all that long in the first place). The novel does jump around in time, which can be confusing in some places (especially when it comes to differentiating between what’s happening in the present and what’s being remembered by one or more of the characters. Still, I enjoyed this quirky, offbeat novel. Irving’s novels are always a pleasure to read, and this one is no exception.
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LibraryThing member writestuff
Twelve year old Daniel lives with his father, Dominic Baciagalupo, in a logging camp along Twisted River in Coos County New Hampshire. Daniel’s father is the cook for the loggers and has been raising his son alone ever since the boy’s mother drowned in the cold, rushing waters of Twisted River.
Beginning in 1954 in New Hampshire, the novel spans more than fifty years (ending in 2005) and moves from Boston to Vermont to Iowa to Colorado and finally to Toronto. As with all Irving novels, the characters drive the narrative…and Last Night in Twisted River is full of memorable characters. My favorite is the gritty Ketchum whose libertarian politics and belief in street justice (not to mention his avoidance of technology except for his beloved fax machine) make him one of the more lovable and humorous characters of the sprawling novel.
Last Night in Twisted River is classic John Irving story telling at its best. Filled with quirky characters and marked by Irving’s signature meandering style, the novel is big, lush and captivating. I have long been a John Irving fan and so I know that when I open one of his novels I must give myself up to the story and simply go along for the ride. No one tells a story quite like Irving, and in Last Night In Twisted River the story is about life with all its ups and downs, unexpected events, and relationships which surprise us. Wound through the pages of this novel is the idea of fate, chance happenings, and the idea that we cannot always map out our lives.
We don’t always have a choice how we get to know one another. Sometimes, people fall into our lives cleanly – as if out of the sky, or as if there were a direct flight from Heaven to Earth the same sudden way we lose people, who once seemed they would always be part of our lives. – from Last Night in Twisted River, page 550 -
Last Night in Twisted River is also about fathers and sons – a common theme in Irving novels – and how parental relationships shape who we become. Daniel becomes a famous author, and Irving has a little fun with his readers by inserting a bit of himself into the character (who has a tendency to overuse semi-colons in his writing).
All that was true the cook thought. Somehow what struck him about Daniel’s fiction was that it was both autobiographical and not autobiographical at the same time. - from Last Night in Twisted River, page 230 -
Readers who love Irving’s early work (The World According to Garp, A Prayer For Owen Meany, and Hotel New Hampshire), and who were swept away by his controversial novels (The Cider House Rules and A Widow For One Year) will not be disappointed in his latest novel. In Last Night in Twisted River, Irving has brought together all his powers as a storyteller. Despite its length (more than 500 pages), I wanted the book to go on and on. When I turned the final page, I was not ready to say good-bye to the characters I had grown to love. For readers waiting for Irving’s next great novel, the wait is over.
Highly recommended.
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One fateful night, Daniel mistakes his father’s girlfriend Jane for a bear and accidentally kills her. Frightened that the town’s chief law enforcement officer (a drunk with a history of beating women) will not believe their story, Dominic and Daniel flee to Massachusetts and make their new lives in the heart of Boston’s North End. What follows is the story of not only Daniel and his father, but also the tale of Ketchum – a surly, big-hearted river driver with an independent streak who remains the duo’s friend for years.Beginning in 1954 in New Hampshire, the novel spans more than fifty years (ending in 2005) and moves from Boston to Vermont to Iowa to Colorado and finally to Toronto. As with all Irving novels, the characters drive the narrative…and Last Night in Twisted River is full of memorable characters. My favorite is the gritty Ketchum whose libertarian politics and belief in street justice (not to mention his avoidance of technology except for his beloved fax machine) make him one of the more lovable and humorous characters of the sprawling novel.
Last Night in Twisted River is classic John Irving story telling at its best. Filled with quirky characters and marked by Irving’s signature meandering style, the novel is big, lush and captivating. I have long been a John Irving fan and so I know that when I open one of his novels I must give myself up to the story and simply go along for the ride. No one tells a story quite like Irving, and in Last Night In Twisted River the story is about life with all its ups and downs, unexpected events, and relationships which surprise us. Wound through the pages of this novel is the idea of fate, chance happenings, and the idea that we cannot always map out our lives.
We don’t always have a choice how we get to know one another. Sometimes, people fall into our lives cleanly – as if out of the sky, or as if there were a direct flight from Heaven to Earth the same sudden way we lose people, who once seemed they would always be part of our lives. – from Last Night in Twisted River, page 550 -
Last Night in Twisted River is also about fathers and sons – a common theme in Irving novels – and how parental relationships shape who we become. Daniel becomes a famous author, and Irving has a little fun with his readers by inserting a bit of himself into the character (who has a tendency to overuse semi-colons in his writing).
All that was true the cook thought. Somehow what struck him about Daniel’s fiction was that it was both autobiographical and not autobiographical at the same time. - from Last Night in Twisted River, page 230 -
Readers who love Irving’s early work (The World According to Garp, A Prayer For Owen Meany, and Hotel New Hampshire), and who were swept away by his controversial novels (The Cider House Rules and A Widow For One Year) will not be disappointed in his latest novel. In Last Night in Twisted River, Irving has brought together all his powers as a storyteller. Despite its length (more than 500 pages), I wanted the book to go on and on. When I turned the final page, I was not ready to say good-bye to the characters I had grown to love. For readers waiting for Irving’s next great novel, the wait is over.
Highly recommended.
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LibraryThing member suetu
I may as well come out and say it: I love John Irving. My love is unconditional. I will defend his lesser novels against all defamers. Happily, I will not be put in that position anytime soon, because Last Night in Twisted River is his strongest novel in years. It’s a wonderful read!
I recently
The novel opens in rural New Hampshire in 1954. Widower Domenic Baciagalupo is the cook at a logging camp, where he is assisted by his 12-year-old son, Danny. It’s a rough and tumble world, personified by the gruff and rugged logger, Ketchem, who becomes the closest thing to family that either Baciagalupo has. Last Night in Twisted River is an epic novel, spanning some 50 years. The aforementioned accidental death is the novel’s catalyst. It causes Domenic and Danny to go on the run, sought for decades by a vigilante sheriff. But aside from being the tale of this truncated family’s life in exile, this is a story about how you become the person you are.
Specifically, Mr. Irving is looking at how a writer becomes a writer, because that, indeed, is what Danny Baciagalupo becomes—a successful one, too. In fact, Danny Baciagalupo’s career is… John Irving’s career. There is no attempt to disguise the obviousness of the career trajectory, the subject matter of the books, the literary criticism—all are identical to Irving’s. It seems clear that the author is having some fun with the self-referential material, but for fans like me, Irving gives us unusual insight into his process, and possibly some of his own attitudes on the life of a writer. Though, perhaps we can’t assume that is so, as Danny has much to say about readers’ assumptions about the autobiographical nature of fiction, and the value of what is borrowed versus what is imagined.
In a recent review, I commented on the way that Pat Conroy returns again and again to certain themes and plot elements in his fiction, but “jumbles them up in new and interesting ways.” Certainly this is true, too, of Mr. Irving. In this novel we again find bears, writers, absent parents, endangered children, New England settings, prep schools, and so forth. It’s easy to compare different aspects of this latest novel to what has come before. A dash of Garp and a soupçon of Owen Meany. But right from the start, the work of which this reminded me the most is The Cider House Rules. Not in subject matter, but in the period setting and the span of the story being told. And probably in the nature of the male relationships in this novel.
Last Night in Twisted River is a long, heart-wrenching story. You won’t be racing through it. You may learn more about logging than you ever wanted to know. But Irving’s language is magnificent and you won’t soon forget these characters and their epic journey. This book is a must read for all fans of John Irving and of great literature.
I recently
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told a friend, “It’s so good it hurts.” Reflecting on what I had said, I realized I was right. Sometimes reading his books hurts. He populates his novels with sweet, sentimental, anxious men, and then he tortures them. Mr. Irving’s signature blend of comedy and tragedy is again on display. Only in his world does an oft-repeated tale of whacking a bear on the nose with a frying pan lead to an accidental death.The novel opens in rural New Hampshire in 1954. Widower Domenic Baciagalupo is the cook at a logging camp, where he is assisted by his 12-year-old son, Danny. It’s a rough and tumble world, personified by the gruff and rugged logger, Ketchem, who becomes the closest thing to family that either Baciagalupo has. Last Night in Twisted River is an epic novel, spanning some 50 years. The aforementioned accidental death is the novel’s catalyst. It causes Domenic and Danny to go on the run, sought for decades by a vigilante sheriff. But aside from being the tale of this truncated family’s life in exile, this is a story about how you become the person you are.
Specifically, Mr. Irving is looking at how a writer becomes a writer, because that, indeed, is what Danny Baciagalupo becomes—a successful one, too. In fact, Danny Baciagalupo’s career is… John Irving’s career. There is no attempt to disguise the obviousness of the career trajectory, the subject matter of the books, the literary criticism—all are identical to Irving’s. It seems clear that the author is having some fun with the self-referential material, but for fans like me, Irving gives us unusual insight into his process, and possibly some of his own attitudes on the life of a writer. Though, perhaps we can’t assume that is so, as Danny has much to say about readers’ assumptions about the autobiographical nature of fiction, and the value of what is borrowed versus what is imagined.
In a recent review, I commented on the way that Pat Conroy returns again and again to certain themes and plot elements in his fiction, but “jumbles them up in new and interesting ways.” Certainly this is true, too, of Mr. Irving. In this novel we again find bears, writers, absent parents, endangered children, New England settings, prep schools, and so forth. It’s easy to compare different aspects of this latest novel to what has come before. A dash of Garp and a soupçon of Owen Meany. But right from the start, the work of which this reminded me the most is The Cider House Rules. Not in subject matter, but in the period setting and the span of the story being told. And probably in the nature of the male relationships in this novel.
Last Night in Twisted River is a long, heart-wrenching story. You won’t be racing through it. You may learn more about logging than you ever wanted to know. But Irving’s language is magnificent and you won’t soon forget these characters and their epic journey. This book is a must read for all fans of John Irving and of great literature.
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LibraryThing member bachaney
John Irving's "Last Night in Twisted River" begins in the mid 1950s in the isolated logging town of Twisted River. A cook and his son are about to be drawn into a series of events that will change their lives forever. After the events, the cook decides to take his son on the run, and the next 50
I felt like "Twisted River" was an apt title for this book--since as a reader I felt like I was being twisted and turned on a wild goose chase that lasted for 500 plus pages. The book was long, it was meandering, and it simply is not Irving at his best. The core of the story is simple--the cook makes a decision after a misunderstanding to save his son, and the two of them spend the remainder of the book running as a result. However, the book lingers on this point for too long, and I felt like the characters never grew beyond their actions. Also, the book is broken into segments set in each decade following the 1950s, but instead of focusing on the events happening in that decade, it typically jumps back to events that happened previously. This made it hard for me as a reader to follow the book, since I never knew exactly where in time I was. When coupled with the slow moving plot, this made the book almost unreadable in sections.
If you are an Irving fan, I would recommend that you read this book to see how his approach to writing has changed. If you are considering this as your first experience with Irving, I would suggest that you start instead with one of his classics, such as "A Prayer for Owen Meaney" or "The Cider House Rules".
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years of their lives are shrouded in tragedies related to the events of that one fateful night. I felt like "Twisted River" was an apt title for this book--since as a reader I felt like I was being twisted and turned on a wild goose chase that lasted for 500 plus pages. The book was long, it was meandering, and it simply is not Irving at his best. The core of the story is simple--the cook makes a decision after a misunderstanding to save his son, and the two of them spend the remainder of the book running as a result. However, the book lingers on this point for too long, and I felt like the characters never grew beyond their actions. Also, the book is broken into segments set in each decade following the 1950s, but instead of focusing on the events happening in that decade, it typically jumps back to events that happened previously. This made it hard for me as a reader to follow the book, since I never knew exactly where in time I was. When coupled with the slow moving plot, this made the book almost unreadable in sections.
If you are an Irving fan, I would recommend that you read this book to see how his approach to writing has changed. If you are considering this as your first experience with Irving, I would suggest that you start instead with one of his classics, such as "A Prayer for Owen Meaney" or "The Cider House Rules".
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LibraryThing member eleanor_eader
John Irving is not an ‘entire works’ author for me, because I’ve found that while I always enjoy his writing, I’m not truly engaged in the plots or characters of any but the best of them. When he nails all the elements, though, his writing lifts his stories into the stratosphere, leaving
Dominic and his son, Daniel, are forced to flee the logging town in which Danny was raised, when the boy accidentally kills the girlfriend of the psychopathic local sheriff. They become fugitives, aided from afar by the hard-nosed logger Ketchum, a force of nature and Danny’s (if not the book’s) hero. They build lives and abandon them as the sheriff, ‘Cowboy’ Carl, remains implacably devoted to tracking them down.
The father and son theme that runs through the story is the important one, but as usual Irving brings American history strongly into focus and uses friendship and community to give the book a resounding depth. There’s an element of metafiction, clever enough to add a layer of interest, not obtrusive enough to elbow the story out of the way.
Reading the short but enlightening author’s note at the back of the book I realised something I might not otherwise have noticed – Irving says he was a fan of those earlier British authors who could wield a plot – Dickens, and, notably, Thomas Hardy… I think he’s picked up something else from Hardy, too; that aura of fate, that not-quite-coincidence that drives a plot tragedy-wards; he’s not nearly as bleak as Hardy, but inevitability plays a large role in Last Night in Twisted River.
I think that The Cider House Rules will remain my favourite Irving novel; …Twisted River suffered (for me) from that author’s playing with the time-line a little too much, although it worked where it was supposed to, in introducing major events before they happened and letting the reader stew over them, but otherwise this is one of the finest American books I’ve read. I’m dropping the ‘contemporary’ from the equation because there’s something timeless about Irving’s work. At a late point in the novel, Danny as an author sees a display in a book shop of history and fiction together, where the fiction was chosen to give atmosphere to the factual history accounts. If that’s the shelf that Irving himself is aiming to fill, I’d say Last Night in Twisted River is his flagship book in that regard… he returns to themes (Vietnam, most notably), that he’s introduced before, but the scope is much wider than that – from the temporarily thriving logging town to the fall of the towers in the 9/11 attacks, Irving takes on America’s own definition of itself as another theme. So while The Cider House Rules remains my favourite, if a reader were going to pick up one novel of Irving’s for a sense of who he is as a writer, this is the work that I’d instantly recommend.
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the reader with much to think about afterwards. Last Night in Twisted River is one of his best of his books in this regard. Dominic and his son, Daniel, are forced to flee the logging town in which Danny was raised, when the boy accidentally kills the girlfriend of the psychopathic local sheriff. They become fugitives, aided from afar by the hard-nosed logger Ketchum, a force of nature and Danny’s (if not the book’s) hero. They build lives and abandon them as the sheriff, ‘Cowboy’ Carl, remains implacably devoted to tracking them down.
The father and son theme that runs through the story is the important one, but as usual Irving brings American history strongly into focus and uses friendship and community to give the book a resounding depth. There’s an element of metafiction, clever enough to add a layer of interest, not obtrusive enough to elbow the story out of the way.
Reading the short but enlightening author’s note at the back of the book I realised something I might not otherwise have noticed – Irving says he was a fan of those earlier British authors who could wield a plot – Dickens, and, notably, Thomas Hardy… I think he’s picked up something else from Hardy, too; that aura of fate, that not-quite-coincidence that drives a plot tragedy-wards; he’s not nearly as bleak as Hardy, but inevitability plays a large role in Last Night in Twisted River.
I think that The Cider House Rules will remain my favourite Irving novel; …Twisted River suffered (for me) from that author’s playing with the time-line a little too much, although it worked where it was supposed to, in introducing major events before they happened and letting the reader stew over them, but otherwise this is one of the finest American books I’ve read. I’m dropping the ‘contemporary’ from the equation because there’s something timeless about Irving’s work. At a late point in the novel, Danny as an author sees a display in a book shop of history and fiction together, where the fiction was chosen to give atmosphere to the factual history accounts. If that’s the shelf that Irving himself is aiming to fill, I’d say Last Night in Twisted River is his flagship book in that regard… he returns to themes (Vietnam, most notably), that he’s introduced before, but the scope is much wider than that – from the temporarily thriving logging town to the fall of the towers in the 9/11 attacks, Irving takes on America’s own definition of itself as another theme. So while The Cider House Rules remains my favourite, if a reader were going to pick up one novel of Irving’s for a sense of who he is as a writer, this is the work that I’d instantly recommend.
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LibraryThing member bookmagic
Synopsis from Amazon
A long, delicious trip to the land of Irving is hands-down the best way to begin the month of October. A trio of tragic events (though the prize for most hell-shocking goes to the third) exiles widower and camp cook Dominic Baciagalupo and his son Danny from a mid-century
My review: This was my first John Irving book and that may have been a mistake. I think this is for those already acquainted with this author and his style of writing. While not the longest book that I have read this year, in fact it is the shortest of the three chunksters I 've read, it seemed so very, very long. Irving created interesting characters but the story, just took forever. And I just wasn't able to care about the characters themselves, except for Ketchum, who was truly an original. The narrative is jumpy and I had to reread parts as I thought I had misssed something. I did get used to it but realy I just could not wait for it to be over. Irving is a well-respected writer and his fans seemed to enjoy his latest very much. But this probably isn't the one to start with if you are new to his work.
rating 3/5
A long, delicious trip to the land of Irving is hands-down the best way to begin the month of October. A trio of tragic events (though the prize for most hell-shocking goes to the third) exiles widower and camp cook Dominic Baciagalupo and his son Danny from a mid-century
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logging outpost called Twisted River. They leave behind the Bunyan-esque lumberjack Ketchum--a gruff, eccentric, dyed-in-the-wool Yankee--who remains their sole connection to the past. What's next neither father nor son knows: their rootless existence moves swiftly in and out of New England, tied ostensibly to jobs for Dominic and schools for Danny, but it seems one foot is always back in those New Hampshire woods. Theirs is a restless, richly observed journey, crowned by a reckoning no one could predict. Few writers can match John Irving's knack for denouement, and in Last Night in Twisted River, his extraordinary ending is made all the more powerful by a story that feasts on language, life, and love.My review: This was my first John Irving book and that may have been a mistake. I think this is for those already acquainted with this author and his style of writing. While not the longest book that I have read this year, in fact it is the shortest of the three chunksters I 've read, it seemed so very, very long. Irving created interesting characters but the story, just took forever. And I just wasn't able to care about the characters themselves, except for Ketchum, who was truly an original. The narrative is jumpy and I had to reread parts as I thought I had misssed something. I did get used to it but realy I just could not wait for it to be over. Irving is a well-respected writer and his fans seemed to enjoy his latest very much. But this probably isn't the one to start with if you are new to his work.
rating 3/5
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LibraryThing member Nodressrehearsal
I have always been a huge John Irving fan - HUGE - so it pains me to say this: Blech.
It felt like he must've gotten paid by the word for writing this. His characters did things that were so stupid, it was ridiculous. The dialog didn't ring true, and the pointless details - Gah! This story dragged
It felt like he must've gotten paid by the word for writing this. His characters did things that were so stupid, it was ridiculous. The dialog didn't ring true, and the pointless details - Gah! This story dragged
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on and on and on and on - how many times did he write "the famous writer" in this clunker? Good grief, I'd have used the gun on myself at the idea of packing up my life and changing my name for the kazillionth time. Show Less
LibraryThing member delphimo
Irving begins the story with a detailed description of logging in the 1950's. The history is interesting, but very detailed. The main characters: Ketchum, Dominic, Daniel, Rosie, Injun Jane; propel the story. The reader wonders why a brilliant cook such as Dominic cooks for hungry and life weary
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loggers. Irving waits to halfway through the book to reveal the startling ménage a trois. The novel's structure begins to fall apart in the middle of the book. Irving jumps back and forth between the different settings of Vermont, Iowa, Boston, and New Hampshire, all in one chapter. Also, the reader loses the flow of the writing trying to determine what is happening and to whom. I enjoyed the first third of the novel, but found the final two thirds to be unreadable, and would not recommend this novel. Show Less
LibraryThing member SugarCreekRanch
A logging camp cook and his son become fugitives. This novel has many truly excellent sections, but it strayed far from the main storyline and became a chore to finish. If it had been editted to about half the length, it would've been great.
LibraryThing member rolyaty
Most recent Irving read, nice book. I really enjoyed the craftsmanship of the story itself, and how it weaved in and out of reality, pointing to the author of the actual book, then the fictional author, and weaving in and out and twisting around what is real and what is fiction enough that I just
Good characters, but I felt the plot lagged a bit at times and really the novel, spread out across 3 generations, lost some of its momentum towards the middle, but all in all, I really enjoyed it.
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sat back, stopped trying to figure it out, and enjoyed.Good characters, but I felt the plot lagged a bit at times and really the novel, spread out across 3 generations, lost some of its momentum towards the middle, but all in all, I really enjoyed it.
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LibraryThing member karieh
Many, if not most books, end by the completion of a circle. There is a reference, a plot device, a theme that takes the reader back to the beginning of the book, a feeling that the loop has been closed. In “Last Night in Twisted River”, John Irving has taken the reader back to the beginning
I LOVED “The World According to Garp” and very much enjoyed “A Widow for One Year”. I was very disappointed by Irving’s latest book. There is no continuous story arc that I could hold on to. At times, I had no idea in what year or what state the story was occurring. The time and place jumps sometimes seem to happen in the same paragraph. There are several narratives going on, in several different decades, in many different states and some of them may (or may not) be the stories being created by one of the main characters…I simply couldn’t follow. Oh, and the main characters change their names a few times, which didn’t help my confusion.
One of the main plot points is that a father and son are on the run from a violent man in their past, yet there isn’t enough of a threat given to the reader to build any sort of suspense. Also, Dominic (father) and Daniel (son) are able to live out decades of normal life in each place they live – with little or no daily worry that they will be found by their pursuer.
Writing this type of review for an author whose work I greatly admire, feels awful. I keep going back to the book, trying to figure out what I missed. There are a few times I brushed up against the style that I remember.
“Maybe this moment of speechlessness helped to make Daniel Baciagalupo become a writer. All those moments when you know you should speak, but you can’t think of what to say – as a writer, you can never give enough attention to those moments.”
And “We don’t always have a choice how we get to know one another. Sometimes, people fall into our lives cleanly – as if out of the sky, or as if there were a direct flight from Heaven to Earth – the same sudden way we lose people, who once seemed they would always be part of our lives.”
But those moments are too few and far between. The bulk of the book is a mix of too much detail about minor things like meals, and not enough detail about things like the death of major characters. Then the last quarter turns into a political rant (mostly from a character that was unable to read through most of his life but who then becomes an authority on George W. Bush), and in the end, it is a relief to be done.
“He’d lost so much that was dear to him, but Danny knew how stories were marvels – how they simply couldn’t be stopped.”
Some stories are marvels, John Irving stories are marvels, and I look forward to his next one…but this one, for me, was not.
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(and middle and end) of the story so many times that there is no sense of fulfillment. Indeed, there is a sense of relief that finally, this long, circuitous journey has come to some sort of end.I LOVED “The World According to Garp” and very much enjoyed “A Widow for One Year”. I was very disappointed by Irving’s latest book. There is no continuous story arc that I could hold on to. At times, I had no idea in what year or what state the story was occurring. The time and place jumps sometimes seem to happen in the same paragraph. There are several narratives going on, in several different decades, in many different states and some of them may (or may not) be the stories being created by one of the main characters…I simply couldn’t follow. Oh, and the main characters change their names a few times, which didn’t help my confusion.
One of the main plot points is that a father and son are on the run from a violent man in their past, yet there isn’t enough of a threat given to the reader to build any sort of suspense. Also, Dominic (father) and Daniel (son) are able to live out decades of normal life in each place they live – with little or no daily worry that they will be found by their pursuer.
Writing this type of review for an author whose work I greatly admire, feels awful. I keep going back to the book, trying to figure out what I missed. There are a few times I brushed up against the style that I remember.
“Maybe this moment of speechlessness helped to make Daniel Baciagalupo become a writer. All those moments when you know you should speak, but you can’t think of what to say – as a writer, you can never give enough attention to those moments.”
And “We don’t always have a choice how we get to know one another. Sometimes, people fall into our lives cleanly – as if out of the sky, or as if there were a direct flight from Heaven to Earth – the same sudden way we lose people, who once seemed they would always be part of our lives.”
But those moments are too few and far between. The bulk of the book is a mix of too much detail about minor things like meals, and not enough detail about things like the death of major characters. Then the last quarter turns into a political rant (mostly from a character that was unable to read through most of his life but who then becomes an authority on George W. Bush), and in the end, it is a relief to be done.
“He’d lost so much that was dear to him, but Danny knew how stories were marvels – how they simply couldn’t be stopped.”
Some stories are marvels, John Irving stories are marvels, and I look forward to his next one…but this one, for me, was not.
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LibraryThing member msf59
The cook, the writer, the logger and the cowboy. These are the central figures in this fine sprawling tale of family, friendship and mortality, which of course is a favorite Irving fixation. It begins in 1954, with the cook working in Twisted River, a rugged logging camp in the northern neck of New
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Hampshire. Danny, his twelve year old son, is the writer and the cook’s best friend, a big leathery man by the name of Ketchum, is the faithful logger. Rounding off the list is Constable Carl, the cowboy, a mean-spirited, vengeful lawman, who propels the story to it’s unpredictable trajectory, which spans the next fifty years and touches fatefully down in several different states, with an extended stop in Canada. Irving has crafted his usual colorful, bigger-than-life characters, like Injun Jane, Six-Pack Pam, Leary, Danny’s kind influential English teacher and Lady Sky, who first appears, quite shockingly, as a naked skydiver. This is a very good novel, filled with humor and pathos and it’s a pleasure to see that Irving is still a topnotch storyteller. Show Less
LibraryThing member mumfie
My enthusiasm waned around 200 pages in when I thought 50 odd pages could easily have been cut. But apart from that blip this is another of Irving's enjoyable, if overlong, works with another slightly insane story that is strangely logical in a twisted way.
In the Author's Note Irving says this is
It's not one of his best but I enjoyed the detailed and lengthy descriptions and side roads taken; these are part of what makes Irving so unique.
In the Author's Note Irving says this is
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the first time he has written about his own method of writing in his stories, assigning it to his great novelist of a main character. The book is self-referential adding more than one metaphorical twist to the literal twists of the river.It's not one of his best but I enjoyed the detailed and lengthy descriptions and side roads taken; these are part of what makes Irving so unique.
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LibraryThing member comato
I'll start by saying that I've only read one other of Irving's books, "A Prayer for Owen Meany." I think Irving is an author with die-hard fans and I don't have enough experience with his work to count myself among them. I had a lot of trouble with this book. The beginning, where we're introduced
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to the characters and their logging camp home, is very bleak. Once the setting changed, I found the reading a little easier, but the book did not consistently keep my attention. Maybe if I had more context, were more familiar with Irving, I would appreciate all the self-referential in-jokes that the other reviewers delighted in, but I found my mind wandering as I tried to keep reading. It felt self-indulgent to me, and contrived, instead of playful and engaging. At over 550 pages, this is a long book, and I felt like I struggled through a lot of it. And it's not that I don't like long books; this year, I read Les Miserables. I finished it more quickly than I did this book--and I enjoyed it more. Meh. Show Less
Awards
Dublin Literary Award (Longlist — 2011)
Booklist Editor's Choice: Adult Books (Fiction — 2009)
Language
Original language
English
Original publication date
2009-10-27
Physical description
672 p.; 5 inches
ISBN
0552776572 / 9780552776578
Similar in this library
DDC/MDS
| 813.54 |