Sometimes insightful remarks are made which are so reductive they have the power to diminish life even as they explain it. In 1939 Alfred Hitchcock explained in a lecture at Columbia University: "We have a name in the studio, and we call it the 'MacGuffin.' It is the mechanical element that usually crops up in any story. In crook stories it is almost always the necklace and in spy stories it is most always the papers." Wikipedia elaborates:A MacGuffin is a plot device that motivates the characters or advances the story, but the details of which are of little or no importance otherwise. The element that distinguishes a MacGuffin from other types of plot devices is that it is not important what the object specifically is. Anything that serves as a motivation will do.This is one of the principal reasons why spy and "mystery" novels bore the living bejesus out of me, and alas, when I realised "The Tenderness of Wolves" was not, in fact, a cookery book as I had been led to believe, I found it was a "mystery" novel, a stone whodunnit in fact. The victim is murdered because of the big fat MacGuffin which in this book takes the form of a bone tablet which some guys think is valuable because it may indicate there once was a literate Indian society. So in this book people do a lot of following trails, which as this book takes place in the Frozen North are actual footprints in the snow. I won't give the ending away, but they do so much tracking they almost find the Woozle. I liked the chaotic flailing about which takes up most of the plot, it reminded me of two great Coen Brothers movies, Blood Simple and Fargo. But enjoying the bafflement of others only takes you so far. The other thing which bugged me about this book was The Historical Present. It's weird enough when authors write in the first person past tense but you can suspend enough disbelief and imagine (if the self-consciousness of reading imaginary narratives ever surfaces) that you are hearing a perfect recollection by the narrator. The Historical Present smashes this conceit. "I am not gentle but he makes no sound as I clean the wounds with rubbing alcohol. He has his eyes shut. From the corner of my eye Parker seems to be watching us..." That kind of thing. It's a strange idea - instead of the perfect recollection the perfect real-time self-description like you are on an advanced driving test - "Describe your observations Mr Bryant" "In my rear view mirror I see a black Fiat Punto with a blond male driver and a woman with a leopardskin coat, can't see if it's fake fur but I am assuming so; now I am making a left turn into Cold Potato Street, avoiding the cyclist who has large earrings and is weaving slightly as his panniers are overfilled". And finally - this book was famously written by a woman who suffered so much from agrophobia that she did not leave a wooden box measuring three feet by six feet by ten feet for over two years. So the book was written entirely out of research and imagination (she would poke her arm out of the box and friends would place interesting articles about Ancient Canada into her open hand). I like this idea a lot because after all, fiction is made up, and I have little time for autobiographical coming of age novels (except for Edmund White). However - if I look at the author blurb and I see "John Weebblebeeble has been a lecturer at the Creative Writing School of the University of Do As You like, Minnesota for 37 years" or I see "John Weeblebeeble has been employed variously as a prizefighter, royal embroiderer, catamite, chef on board a nuclear submarine and private detective; John was born Stephanie MacGuffin and transgendered at the age of 31. He now lives in a community for the blind and limbless in Katmandu" - I kind of get the notion that the latter's interesting experiences will make the better writer. Literature proves this prejudice nonsense, but it lingers.
This book is directed at readers rather than thinkers. I can understand why people like it because there are plenty of wonderfully crafted moments, but the novel lacks focus and depth. I've read a few reviews that ooh and aah over the fact that it's a murder mystery wrapped in a love story hog-tied to a western deep fried in good ol fashioned wilderness tale, but I've always felt that genre divisions are a crutch for people who need the books they read to conform to a series of prearranged attributes. However, what people take away from a novel (or any work of art), as well as the baggage they bring, isn't something the author can be held accountable for. Though Stef Penney was obviously writing for a target audience based on her experience as a screenwriter (I don't like it when I can see the machinery turning), nearly every other review I've read drags in aspects of her personal life, giving them a disproportionate weight that colors one's appreciation of the narrative. The kind of gossip useless to any serious literary discussion.Aside from the pockets of wonderful writing scattered throughout, what I liked about this novel was the title. Wolves generally rank above snakes but below mice on the Wheel of Tenderness, but I liked the attempt to turn our thinking around. Those of you with access to the discovery channel know that wolves mate for life (awww...), but that their lives are determined mainly by a constant struggle for physical dominance within the pack. Food is always scarce; most packs can only support one litter of cubs and any youngsters that don't belong to the pair at the top are killed out of hand, and even for mature wolves their main predators remain other wolf packs. If there is a tenderness of wolves it is characterized by a vicious, selective intensity focused ultimately on survival. Draw whatever parallels you please between the previous statement and people you know and love, or substitute wilderness for wolves.Where the novel runs aground is the arbitrarily neat division into four sections. Not only do they break the flow of the story, they feel forced, as if Penney was already thinking about where to insert the commercial breaks. At the beginning of 'Fields of Heaven' Penney introduces a number of minor characters that, while well-drawn, don't add anything to the novel, or contribute to it's resolution. Everyone in Himmelvanger is background noise except for Line, who didn't serve any real purpose aside from informing Angus at the end about his wife and son (simultaneously robbing the reader of a scene where Angus comes across his wife with Parker ). At the same time, all of the conflict built up in the first section between Knox, McKinley, and Sturrock is set aside and ultimately left unexplored like so many other plot threads. Sturrock and Marie in particular get robbed in this book; after building them up in the beginning, they spend the rest of the novel literally sitting around.Overall this book confused me, and not in a tantalizing way. I felt jerked around, as though Penney had started to say something, changed her mind, and then sprung mid-sentence in a completely different direction.
What do You think about The Tenderness Of Wolves (2007)?
This book received the Costa (Whitbred)Award which I find totally surprising. Certainly the book has all the makings of a great novel. But it is not. A host of interesting characters, a dramatic environment, a historical setting, even a murder mystery. Lots of interesting characters and criss-crossing paths. Yet it feels more like a soap opera at times than anything else.I think the choice of the author to give a first person voice to one character and then use third person all the rest of the way through the book is a major mistake (in the discussion in the book she says Dickens did it in Bleak House so why can't I -- because he is a literary genius, that's why). Although all of the characters are interesting, the author gives us more insights into some than others. The result is a feeling that this was designed to be a Dickensian book but the author just wasn't up to it. I don't think you will feel that you wasted time reading this book and there are some wonderful passages about life in wintry Canada. But I wouldn't put it at the top of my list.
—Chris
This is easily one of the most beautifully written books I have read in a long time. The prose, particularly when used in the first person perspective of Mrs. Ross, really drew me in. This combined with the very human nature of both the story and characters made them human. Being from areas near and similar to the setting in the book I was surprised at the author’s ability to craft the feeling of the Northwood’s in winter, and particularly the feelings I had as a child during my first experiences with the intimidation that can be caused by the isolation and alien nature of the woods. This is particularly impressive for someone who has never visited a place of such beauty and isolation. I think Penney weaved beautifully issues of the human condition both modern and timeless in a way that felt real, and while there is no Hollywood ending the ending is better for being honest and true to both the characters and real life.
—Mike
WM1: Per usare una frase a effetto si potrebbe dire che con il suo romanzo d'esordio La tenerezza dei lupi Stef Penney ha inventato un nuovo genere: il "Northern". Vale a dire la variante canadese del western, che sostituisce il deserto dell'Arizona con le distese nevose dell'Ontario. Sponde settentrionali del Lago Huron, anno 1867. In un piccolo villaggio di coloni scozzesi si consuma un efferato omicidio. Nessun indizio, eccetto una scia di impronte sulla neve che si perde verso nord. Per risolvere il mistero bisognerà seguirle fino all'ultimo avamposto nelle gelide terre settentrionali, e sarà più d'uno a tentare l'impresa. Come nella migliore tradizione, ci sono un colpevole apparente e molti colpevoli possibili. La tenerezza dei lupi � un giallo della stanza chiusa in uno spazio sconfinato. Un thriller in cui risolvendo il caso se ne risolvono altri - rimasti sepolti sotto gli strati del tempo per decenni o addirittura secoli - ma senza l'ansia o la pretesa di risolverli tutti. Difficile non innamorarsi della memorabile protagonista femminile, che riecheggia le eroine classiche della letteratura, ma con una coscienza tutta moderna. E mentre la si accompagna all'inseguimento dell'assassino ci si accorge che il romanzo del "Far North" compone il mosaico dell'altra frontiera americana. Cacciatori meticci, agenti commerciali, coloni che ancora puzzano di sentina, avventurieri bianchi che sembrano indiani e indiani che sembrano bianchi. Penney � davvero grande nel tratteggiare i personaggi uno a uno, connotandoli indelebilmente. Tutti inseguono qualcosa, gelosi delle proprie aspirazioni, tutti sono "in caccia" e proiettano la loro ombra sul fondale della macrostoria. Il processo di autonomia del Canada dalla madrepatria inglese � appena agli albori, l'economia dell'entroterra si regge in gran parte sul commercio delle pellicce pregiate, acquistate in condizione di monopolio dalla Compagnia della Baia di Hudson. Sulla piazza di Londra il frutto delle fatiche dei trapper e dei voyager viene venduto a peso d'oro, per finire sulle spalle delle gentildonne che vanno a teatro. Beni di lusso che hanno per matrice la caccia pi� brutale. Ma gli animali si sono fatti furbi, si spostano a ovest, e gli uomini della Compagnia devono avanzare, spingere oltre i loro avamposti, come cacciatori nomadi che seguono le mandrie. Intanto, a sud del confine, la Guerra Civile si � conclusa e sta prendendo coraggio una potenza economica che predilige i principi della libera concorrenza. Il monopolio britannico ha gi� sfidato una volta lo spirito d'intrapresa dei coloni americani, perdendo tutto. La storia rischia di ripetersi sotto forma di guerra commerciale. In gioco c'� un giro d'affari che dissolve gli scrupoli e scalda gli animi, offrendo il gancio alla battuta fulminante di uno dei personaggi, rivelatrice della coscienza canadese di oggi: "Cristo, ci stiamo riducendo come i nostri vicini. Finiremo anche noi come gli Stati Uniti, guerre e rivoluzioni ogni cinque minuti". La tenerezza dei lupi � un romanzo che non sembra affatto un esordio narrativo, ma l'opera matura di un'autrice esperta. Non meraviglia che i critici abbiano fatto un salto sulla sedia. [La recensione prosegue qui: http://www.wumingfoundation.com/italiano/Giap/nandropau…
—Wu Ming
