Freedom (2010)

"'I'm guessing that you've already had the opportunity to be frustrated with people who aren't as bright as you are. People who are not only unable but unwilling to admit certain truths whose logic is self-evident to you. Who don't even seem to care that their logic is bad. Have you never been frustrated that way?'

"'But that's because they're free... Isn't that what freedom is for? The right to think whatever you want? I mean, I admit, it's a pain in the ass sometimes.'"

What is the price of freedom? What horrible compromises must be made in order to make gains in this world? The characters of Jonathan Franzen's latest novel, Freedom, find themselves continuously faced with the necessity of compromise in order to achieve their goals. It's a family drama in which the patriach, the almost tirelessly idealistic Walter Berglund, finds himself working for a giant, earth-destroying (and war profiteering) corporation in order to preserve some small portion of land as a nature sanctuary; the matriarch, Patty, finds herself forced to choose between the sexual satisfaction she might find with Walter's best friend, Richard, and the satisfaction she feels in every other respect with Walter and which she knows she could never find with Richard; their son, Joey, must find a way to reconcile his vision of himself as a freewheeling, self-made playboy with his love for his childhood sweetheart and a rather inconvenient sense of guilt over how he will make his fortune.

Franzen moves back and forth between various perspectives and styles of narration. The novel opens with an overview of the Berglunds from the outside, as they are seen by their neighbors. It then shifts to a much more interrior view through an autobiography written by Patty (to which it will return near the end) and then shifts again, offering chapters from the perspective of Walter, Joey, and Richard. Franzen is ultimately able to paint a very expansive picture of this one particular family, getting deep into their psyches and exposing all the natural cracks that can (and perhaps inevitably will) occur in human relationships.

Freedom has already long since been praised to the heavens as a masterwork, though to be honest its reputation is what made me wait so long to pick it up. After all, how could any book live up to that much hype? But, having now read it, I have to say that it is worthy of all that ppraise. It isn't a flawless book - I felt that the Berglund's daughter, Jessica, was woefully underrepresented - but between Franzen's finely wrought dissection of the minutiae of interpersonal conflicts and his exquisite prose, it's an excellent novel that you won't want to put down.

The Price of Salt (1952)

"It was an evening Therese would never forget, and unlike most such evenings, this one registered as unforgettable while it still lived. It was a matter of the bag of popcorn they shared, the circus, and the kiss Carol gave her back of some booth in the performers' tent. It was a matter of the particular enchantment that came from Carol... and seemed to work on all the world around them, a matter of everything going perfectly, without disappointments or hitches, going just as they wished it to."

Often, works that are described as “groundbreaking” on their initial release lose their edge as the years. They pave the way for other work, work that goes further and, as such, they can end up seeming almost quaint from the distance of a few decades. This is not the case with The Price of Salt, Patricia Highsmith’s novel (written under the pseudonym Claire Morgan) about a relationship between two women. Frank and unapologetic, it remains a compelling read.

It begins with a look, when Therese spots Carol across a department store floor. It’s a new sensation for Therese and she pursues it blindly, stumbling into it without entirely knowing what to expect. Carol, older and married with a child, is more relaxed and more experienced; she’s cooler and more in control of herself and the situation. What begins as a highly charged friendship officially blossoms into more as the two embark on a cross country trip together. By the time they realize that they’re being pursued by a private investigator hired by Carol’s husband, it’s too late; they’re in too deep and the PI has had ample opportunity to gather evidence. Carol finds herself in the position of having to choose between Therese and her daughter and Therese embarks on a painful journey of self discovery.

Highsmith’s style is efficient and to the point, but not without grace. There are passages of great narrative power and the relationship between Therese and Carol is layered and complex. Though there is always an erotic undercurrent to the way Therese and Carol interact, in the beginning there is also an unmistakeable maternal element. Carol treats Therese almost like a child (her own child, perhaps, from whom she is separated) and Therese submissively accepts it, allowing Carol to slip into the role that Therese’s own mother forfeited. Part of Therese’s journey involves shedding her childlike persona and becoming someone who can relate to Carol adult to adult. This transition paves the way for the novel’s happy ending, the first of its kind in stories dealing with queer themes, and makes it all the more resonant. I first read the book about a year ago and it remains just as achingly compelling on the second read, which I find is only rarely the case with books. Simply put, it's a great work that deserves to be rediscovered by readers.