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Fiction. Literature. HTML:From the internationally acclaimed Nobel laureate comes a richly conceived novel that illuminates the full spectrum of desire. May, Christine, Heed, Junior, Vida — even L: all women obsessed by Bill Cosey. More than the wealthy owner of the famous Cosey Hotel and Resort, he shapes their yearnings for father, husband, lover, guardian, friend, yearnings that dominate the lives of these women long after his death. Yet while he is both the void in, and the centre of, their stories, he himself is driven by secret forces — a troubled past and a spellbinding woman named Celestial. This audacious vision of the nature of love — its appetite, its sublime possession, its dread — is rich in characters and striking scenes, and in its profound understanding of how alive the past can be. A major addition to the canon of one of the world’s literary masters. This is coast country, humid and God fearing, where female recklessness runs too deep for short shorts or thongs or cameras. But then or now, decent underwear or none, wild women never could hide their innocence — a kind of pitty-kitty hopefulness that their prince was on his way. Especially the tough ones with their box cutters and dirty language, or the glossy ones with two-seated cars and a pocketbook full of dope. Even the ones who wear scars like Presidential medals and stockings rolled at their ankles can’t hide the sugar-child, the winsome baby girl curled up somewhere inside, between the ribs, say, or under the heart. — from Love.… (more)
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Reading Morrison is an engaging, delightful challenge—figuring out the puzzle is half the fun. Now, I am motivated to read all her works, but I don’t plan to do this one after another. With this author, I think I would rather savor each book with a year or more in between. Every time I read one of Morrison’s books, I want to be captivated, mesmerized, and fall in love with her prose all over again.
If I straightforwardly tell you the story of Love (like many of the reviewers here), I will ruin the pleasure of your discovering for yourself how the pieces fit together. I will say no more than that it is an intertwining story of six women, three men, and love turned upside-down. There is a lot of lust, anger, hatred, jealousy, rage, envy, self-loathing, and wisdom mixed up in this tale. Emotions erupt off the page; what causes these high emotions from the differing perspectives of each character is part of what makes the puzzle so thought-provoking and enjoyable to figure out. Throughout the text we see the same significant events happening from the varying viewpoints of the different players involved. In doing so, we learn to understand and forgive—not only the human frailty in each character, but also the human frailty in ourselves.
I highly recommend this book, but come prepared for a rollercoaster ride through some difficult and awe-inspiring emotional territory.
The story revolves around a deceased hotel owner, Bill Cosey, and his coven of women - how they are pitted against each other as a result of their interactions with him. There are his daughter-in-law May with his grandchild Christine, and his widowed second wife Heed, in contest over who is the “my sweet Cosey-child” named on the menu scribblings that must pass as a will. Further complicating the brew is the fact that the grandchild and widow had been same-age best friends, when Bill Cosey had wed the eleven-year-old Heed.
Into this fray is added the enigmatic chef, L, who at times takes up the narrative in the first person, the delinquent Junior (a girl), who takes up a position in the Cosey household as Heed’s alluring and cunning assistant, and who falls in love with the memory/spirit/idea of Bill Cosey. Finally, there is the very mysterious woman named Celestial, who we never really know much about except that she is probably the only one of all his women that Bill Cosey truly loved.
But as many will argue (myself included), there is an extremely fine disparity between hatred and love, and often the two are so completely imbricated in each other that you cannot tell where one begins and ends. Morrison explores this idea throughout the book as she slowly unravels the pasts of all the women, and their constantly developing relationships with each other. Their obsession with Bill Cosey I don’t really comprehend, despite the chiefly omniscient narrator. It is as if his mere masculinity is enough for them to catfight over - I just didn’t see his charisma. And perhaps that is my problem, and the reason why I am so ambivalent; when all the conflict, love and hatred is stemming from the actions of one main source, you would expect to feel the living charisma that wrought such extreme events. To me, Bill Cosey is no Helen of Troy.
Moreover, I wasn’t entirely comfortable with L’s role as arbitrator, champion and protector of all sides, and the one character who knows all else about the others - not to mention what her single-lettered nickname is possibly meant to represent. At times her voice was more Morrison’s than the omniscient narrator itself.
The relationship between Heed and Christine was, I thought, treated with compassionate nuance. Everything else simply got in the way.
Morrison's subtext includes memory and language and how each informs our understanding of the present. As usual, Morrison's text bobs and weaves between characters, and between the present and the past. There is less of the supernatural in Love than in many of Morrison's other books - here, the ghosts and demons are memories and the interpretation of those memories. This is not Morrison's best work, but it is still an engaging and thoughtful look into the many aspects of love and it's mirror, hate.
The story of Cosey, a man with a deep history that infects every aspect of his being, and the women in his life, is a fascinating, if a bit surreal,
The payback I was able to get from it was a lesson. Perhaps you can't know a full history in the moment you want to, but always be open to learning another piece of the timeline... it may be an important one.
The novel is told in a series of intertwining narration pieces entitled Portrait, Friend, Stranger, Benefactor, Lover, Husband, Guardian and Father, not unlike in Faulkner’s books, and the family history is revealed very slowly and in twists and turns. Through her characters, Morrison examines the many faces of love and friendship and how closely they can come to hate, and how our perceptions can be remote from reality. Also, how easy it is to forgive people who are wealthy.
The style is lyrical and beautiful, and even before I truly knew what the story was about, I loved listening to the language it was written in. And the fact that it was read by Morrison herself added to the tune of it.
“Hate does that. Burns off everything but itself, so whatever you grievance is, your face looks just like your enemy’s.” - p. 33
“’A woman is an important somebody and sometimes you win the triple crown: good food, good sex, and good talk. Most men settle for any one, happy as a clam if they get two. But listen, let me tell you something. A good man is a good thing, but there is nothing in the world better than a good good woman. She can be your mother, your wife, your girlfriend, your sister, or somebody you work next to. Don’t matter. You find one, stay there. You see a scary one, make tracks.” Sandler, p. 155
Love took a bit longer than usual to show itself to me to the point where I felt like I was "getting" it. But once I did, the book was difficult to put down. At heart, it's about the various forms of love that can shape and distort a life, and about the opposite face of the same coin - the enmity and hatred that can do the same. It's a story of several women who orbit around one man and how they are both drawn to and repulsed by him, and what those conflicting emotions do to them and to their relationship with each other.
It is barely 200 pages in length but Morrison can do more in those pages than most authors do in twice the number.
Love unfolds in a non-linear and often disjointed fashion in Morrison’s trademark style. Reading her work is like doing a jigsaw puzzle, starting with a jumble of disconnected pieces and gradually finding the connections and binding it all together around the edge. That’s what makes her books so interesting, so I won’t reveal any of those connections in this review. Her language is exquisite, and the “reveals” expertly done. I love when a book elicits an “aha” response, and this one did that.
And yet, I struggled to identify the central theme of the work and the meaning of the title. There were many forms of love in evidence, some healthier than others. The bonds between the women were powerful in their unique way. Morrison also wove in commentary on civil rights issues. But after thinking about it for a few days, I just can’t quite tie it all together.
This is a brief novel, only 200 pages, and there are still things I didn't quite understand. I'm hoping our group discussion will help me sort some of it out. I also felt that, because it was brief, though Morrison put in some larger cultural issues like the Civil Rights movement and correctional/prison systems, those didn't get explored as deeply as she explores greater societal issues in other novels.
I also was a little perplexed by the title. I don't see much Love in this novel - more abuse, jealousy, and possessiveness. Maybe it was ironic.
I always enjoy and respect Morrison's writing, but this novel will rank in the middle for me. It's no [Beloved], or [Paradise], or [Song of Solomon].