Book Review: "Freedom" by Jonathan Franzen

Freedom (2010)

5 Stars out of 5

Jonathan Franzen

576 pages

Just as he did in late 2001 with “The Corrections”, Jonathan Franzen brings his superlative control of language and narrative to 2010’s “Freedom”. Just as in “The Corrections”, Franzen brings his unequalled eye to human nature and ear for dialog to this newer book. And just as he did in “The Corrections”, Franzen’s view of humankind is so critical, at times so toxic, that most readers will be wondering why they continue to read about such horrid characters as the Berglunds, people that just about anyone would rather run away from than interact with; and yet at least partly because of the artistry and themes Franzen brings to his novels, the typical reader reads on. Language, narrative flow, artful constructions, incredibly detailed characters and theme are the reasons to read Franzen. Swallow your distaste for his characters and jump in to any of his books, you won’t be disappointed.

The theme for “Freedom” is not a new one for literature, but in Franzen’s hands, its exploration is a big part of the pleasure you will receive in reading this book. The title tells you the theme but not its implications. Where does your freedom, your “personal liberty” start to imprison or at the very least infringe on someone else’s freedom? Or worse, as in the case of lead character Patty Berglund having obtained her personal liberty from husband Walter, and finding out that you still hate yourself, does one end up like Patty just that much more disappointed in the loving and kind man that granted you that freedom to be yourself, or that much more self-despising, or even that much more disappointed in the son that you have poured your adult life into when he turns away from you. These are the issues that suffuse the theme of freedom or personal liberty throughout “Freedom”. And you will find in this complex tale of interweaving lives that it is not just Patty that suffers from these questions and outcomes.

On the surface, “Freedom” is a long exploration of the Berglunds and those around them. We first meet Patty in late 20^th century St. Paul, MN. Patty is the wife of Walter Berglund a lawyer for 3M and the mother of a daughter and son. Patty is a kind of iconic suburbanite, unable to criticize anyone with a word more forceful than “weird” and who is very likely to show up at your door with a plate of cookies to welcome you to the neighborhood. Walter in a seemingly similar manner is the nice guy at work, assigned to the philanthropy section of the legal department since he is too "nice" to argue a case in court.  The reader knows if he’s read “The Corrections” that this Edenic landscape the Berglunds inhabit is destined for a change, and little surprise will occur when it does. It largely but not solely arrives in the form of Richard Katz, a rock musician of little success in music but considerable success with women. He is the college friend of mild-mannered Walter, and the secret desire of Patty. This long-standing triangle will result in some graphic sex and three broken lives.

A key to understanding Patty is revealed in Franzen’s exploration of her earlier life: she was the daughter of a successful and politically-liberal New York family where Patty was somehow considered a disappointment due to her athleticism. Indeed, Patty is no mere athletic dilettante but in fact is an All-American basketball player. This background on Patty works on multiple levels as it allows Franzen to explore the hypocrisy of those that play at liberalism even as they glorify the superficial definitions of success (Patty’s artsy sister is the family hero, while Patty is the black sheep), but it also introduces a key factor in Patty’s temperament: her un-abiding competitiveness – she must win. Thus Patty is defined as someone who has lived her life feeling unloved by her family, and is thus suffering from a diminished self-image, and is also quite paradoxically determined to win every battle she enters; and to her, everything is a contest.

In contrast to Patty is Walter, a third generation Scandinavian émigré to America. In a family characterized by unmet expectations by the previous generation in the next, Walter is descended from a string of alcoholic, angry men that hate everyone around them, most especially their sons. Just as Walter's son (Joey) will do to Walter later in the book, Walter will defy his father by being his exact opposite: a teetotaler that will bend over backwards to please everyone he meets. However, just like his father and grandfather before him, Walter will end up angry at the world for never meeting up to his expectations, and this most certainly will include his son Joey. Joey will turn to far right Republicanism (one wonders if this only out of spite) as Walter has already turned to far left environmentalism. This clash of generations allows Franzen to provide a voice for each political side of the argument during the George W Bush war years in Iraq. It is not that clear who wins the fictional argument between Walter and Joey as both are such damaged goods, but it seems pretty clear that Franzen’s political tendencies are to the left as he gives extensive voice to Walter on the subject of over-population and describes a pained sense of late-arriving conscience to Joey once Joey learns some of the truth behind how American forces were “supported” by greedy arms suppliers (including Joey).

One of the most brilliant aspects of how Franzen tells his story is how he switches voices from 3^rd person omniscient to 1^st person voices for various members of the primary story to a curious 3^rd person Patty. This latter voice is remarkable. It is ostensibly Patty writing in the 3^rd person about Patty as a form of therapy. In this treatise introduced early in the overall novel she explores her personal history in New York as a “jock” that is out of sync with her artsy family, but more tellingly describes the adult Patty’s motivations and thoughts as she considers her children, her husband and her heart’s desire, Richard. This self-examination by Patty is as acerbically written as all of Franzen’s writing and if there is a flaw in this book it is that: the voice of Patty describing Patty sounds all too Franzenian. Be that as it may, sounding Franzenian is really quite an art in itself. Patty’s insights about herself (like Franzen’s about all his characters) make this part of the book the centerpiece. And of course, Patty’s writing becomes in time more than a clever exploration of Patty, but a plot device as well.

This book is one of the most intelligent and thoughtful examinations of American values and priorities in the early 21^st century that I have yet read. It is at times vulgar, profane and highly sexualized. However, it is an example of how modern literature can investigate in a thorough manner, topics as big as the environment and can do so while it is exploring in great detail human behavior via equally big themes such as freedom. In hindsight, it is not hard to see how these two themes of the environment and freedom can overlap (one man’s freedom to pollute is another man’s crime against humanity), but it is a profound pleasure to read about these topics while enjoying the remarkable understanding of the human condition and witty misanthropic dialog that Franzen has so thoroughly mastered.

This book is well worth reading by every adult. It has many sexual situations so beware if this is an issue for you. You may well come away from the book largely disgusted by the characters that Franzen so expertly defines in this book. However, if you enjoyed “The Corrections” or if you enjoy reading a modern master of American fiction, then is book should be on your reading list.

Book review: The Corrections by Jonathan Franzen

The Corrections (2001)

Three and half Stars out of Five

Jonathan Franzen

Jonathan Franzen created for himself and his book, The Corrections some unwanted notoriety in 2001 when he reacted coolly to his book being selected for Oprah Winfrey’s book club; she took offense; he back pedaled; and voila, instant marketing program. However, that being said, I think I have to agree a little with Franzen, why did Oprah choose this book for her book club? She has chosen a wide variety of books, many with a focus on the family, and perhaps that is the reason The Corrections was chosen; but my goodness, what a family is depicted in this book.

The patriarch of the family is Alfred. As the book progresses, he is increasingly demented as a function of his advancing years. His wife, Edna spends her life frustrated and controlled by Alfred, and then tries to compensate by correcting all around, especially her three adult children: Gary the banker, Chip the English professor/writer, and Denise the successful chef. Alfred and Edna live in their upper-mid western home town of St. Jude (patron saint of lost causes). Their offspring have fled to Philadelphia in the case of Gary and Denise or to New York (and elsewhere) in the case of Chip. All five of these people are carefully drawn characters by Franzen, but they are all also personality avatars of a sort; avatars that share one thing beyond their family connections– they are uniformly unpleasant individuals.

Franzen is an extremely skillful writer and has often been listed amongst America’s best new writers. He has with this book demonstrated that skill by creating five vivid depictions of five very different souls, disagreeable ones to be sure. He uses a multi-lineal story telling technique to describe each of the principal characters (plus a few ancillary ones) that masterfully interweaves these stories/lives in a way that creates a very complete picture of this family. The best thing about this book is indeed Franzen’s ability to tell these various stories and parallel timelines in a manner that will intrigue most readers. What may disappoint most readers are the images he creates of these five characters.

Alfred is throughout his adult life (dementia or no) a controlling, sexually constrained former Kansan who works as a civil engineer for a local rail road company. Like the condescending tone the author uses in describing all the characters throughout book (up to a point just shy of the closing pages), Alfred lives his life living on a high moral plane. He bolsters this self-image with self-told tales of his competency in all areas of life, even those beyond his pristine sense of moral piety. This pious self-image does not originate in the church, but rather in Alfred’s own mind. However, the details of Alfred’s psychological origins remain disappointingly vague. His effects though are displayed in vivid detail; Alfred’s influences on Edna are probably the most corrosive of his mal-effects.

Edna is herself a bright and capable person (or was one once), but one so constrained by Alfred’s influence, that she turns towards an all-encompassing desire to correct everyone around. She bluntly criticizes her children and even plays one off the other by playing favorites. Her character throughout the book is the most damaged by Alfred and is easily the most disagreeable. Her three children range in age and character from the arrogant Gary to the self-destructive Chip to the self-hating Denise. Each of the three children's story arcs is described in terms that can only be likened to a train wreck. Franzen builds up their surrounding scenery, puts them on an arc, and then lets the reader know in clear and certain terms that personal disaster awaits each of the three. But like their mother and father, you will not find yourself hoping for the best for any of them. Rather you will find yourself cringing as you await the inevitable collapse of their various worlds. You may find yourself wondering why you continue to read about these unlikeable and un-relatable characters.

Corrections is normally used as a description for a dramatic change in the stock market following a long bullish period – in other words, life has been good for the investor, but will now take a steep down turn. Besides its conventional use near the end of the book, this term as a metaphor clearly also applies to the three children: each has in the beginning of their adult lives experienced some success, but is now destined for a fall, largely due in each case to the severe limitations of their personalities. The idea of their lives as a train wreck is somewhat foreshadowed by their father’s career with a mid-western rail road, itself destined for a fall. Of course, another way of using the word corrections is as a synonym for a penal institution – and this use as yet another metaphor if also pretty apt. Edna has damaged each of her children to the point that they each live their adult lives in a kind of correction institution of the mind.

One curious side aspect of this book is that Franzen has infused throughout the book a considerable amount of extraneous information (e.g. cooking, rail road signals, some pseudo-science from neurology and neuro-chemistry, and others); this is often interesting and indicative of a fair amount of side research by Franzen. These side steps don’t really add or detract from the novel, but they did make me wonder what the point was; is this book intended as a morality play, a comedy, some odd, gothic picture of modern life in America. This latter point is one I kept coming back to as I moved through the book, whether I was considering some mundane aspect of what Edna ate for Christmas breakfast or what was the message from Alfred’s hurtful influence on all concerned. What is the intended style and point of this book?

The book does include some comic elements such as Chip’s attempt to con people into buying Lithuanian sand and gravel before the coming sand and gravel shortage becomes too acute. But this is hardly a comically turned book; rather it is a very well written character study. However, other than Alfred’s mental disintegration, it has virtually no over-arching plot or character evolution. The book focuses on Edna’s final state that comes courtesy of Alfred, but really doesn’t describe the path taken by her to get to her always critical/correcting view of the world. With respect to the three children, two have by the book’s end, moved to a better place, both physically and spiritually; but like with Edna there is no real depiction of that transition.

If we return to the idea of a character study and the secondary idea of how one person can affect those around him, then I remain disappointed. When I look at problems and I see something that is broken, I want to know more about how that something became broken. If Alfred is the axle on which this story turns and is that broken part affecting and breaking the four parts connected to him, I want to know more about his origins. I just did not gain a good understanding of where Alfred came from, only where he ends up. Bottom-line, a well written story on many levels, but ultimately it left me wondering what the point is.