1% Well-Read: Spring Flowers, Spring Frost

I’ve put off writing this review for so long, it’s almost shameful. My reticence stems in part, no doubt, from the fact that I didn’t really enjoy Spring Flowers, Spring Frost, my first choice of the 1% Well-Read Challenge. I’m not disappointed, per-se, but what does it say about me that I couldn’t really get into one of my few recent attempts at “real literature,” whatever that might be? Should I just stick to genre fiction? As an inveterate reader of just about anything I can get my hands on and that strikes my fancy, does this mean I am doomed to a constant search for new mystery series or whole sub-genre? Really, the dragon-nautical-fiction, sci-fi, historical-fiction of the Temeraire series is a show-stopper, but how often is that going to happen? And there are only so many “mysteries-set-in-an-Austen-novel” I can read.

But on to Spring Flowers, Spring Frost, by Ismail Kadare. I didn’t like it, but maybe that’s not the point. I can face my failure to appreciate great literature with a little help from wasabi peanuts and a splash of Makers’ Mark. (Yum). In this specific case, I don’t think I can even blame my dislike on the experience of reading in translation. The English-language version of the book reads well, without many awkward moments or areas of oddly imprecise language. The basic elements of my aversion come down to the simplest ones of all for any reader. I didn’t connect with the protagonist, and the story failed to engage me. Oh, there were moments of pure farce and enjoyable lunacy, and in a few of the middle chapters, I started to appreciate Kadare’s very dry wit. One get the sense that this is a man very well acquainted with the absurdities of human nature. Although I risk a rush to judgment based on only this one read of a book I had to make myself finish, I felt Kadare harbors a certain warmth of feeling towards the mostly harmless varieties of our failings. The failures of the State, however, are treated with the cold and damning logic that I suppose they deserve.

I mentioned in a mid-read posting that the structure of the novel was intriguing, with chapters and counter-chapters. I was disappointed that this symmetry didn’t carry through. I will have to read the book again to get a better sense of why the counter-chapters were inserted where they were, and to do that means suffering through the protagonist again, which I’m not sure I’m ready to do. To another reader he may be an everyman, but to me he was tedious. His girlfriend was intriguing, but she was not as fully developed. Perhaps if my main reading time didn’t come between evening household chores and sleep, I might have more patience for a character that irritates me.

Even though I was not swept away by Spring Flowers, Spring Frost, I would like to read more of Kadare’s work. I may try Three Elegies for Kosovo or Agamemnon’s Daughter (or maybe not, I'm not good with angst and men). There’s an interesting article on “retranslation” and Kadare’s work on the complete review. I admit to a fascination with Albania, and I do hope to travel there someday. The references to Albanian folk culture and traditional cultural norms within Spring Flowers, Spring Frost were intriguing. As an aside, when I was reading this book, the New York Times ran a quirky story on the “honorary men” of Albania. In reading Spring Flowers, Spring Frost, I felt I missed important cues, and didn’t know enough about the culture from whence the story sprang to appreciate some of the interplay between past and present, dream and reality. This is my failing as a reader, and not that of the author or the book.

So, my first excursion into the 1% Well-Read Challenge was not an unmitigated success. However, it did give me more to think about than my average reading these days, and I appreciate the value in that. It’s not called a “challenge” for nothing.