Possession by A.S. Byatt

Boy. This is one of those tough reviews to write because there is just too much and not enough to say, all at the same time. I've played with words in my head but it's hard to not have the whole review just be thirty different ways to say "this is a great book." Those kind of glowing, vague, hyperbole-laden reviews are uninteresting and unhelpful, but with a book like "Possession" its hard to go beyond that without going over the 20 page mark. But a blog must be written, so - with the clear caveat that this is certainly a book that must be read to be appreciated, and with full apologies that this review is bound to be general, effusive, and glowingly unclear - here it goes.
"Possession" is a stunning book. It is a bit wordy, very British, a little rambling, a tad over-intellectual...but perfect in all those "flaws," and probably because of them. I will not bother with any sort of plot summary, as it could never be done justice. The book's plots (it has several plots that run parallel to one another) are those kind of plots that seem unremarkable and even dull when they are simply rehashed...there are no car chases (though, almost), no flaming nights of passion (though, almost), no shipwrecks (though, again, almost...this is actually getting kind of weird); they are literary plots, internal, subtle - but brilliant, and alive, and character-driven in the best possible way. They are the kind of plots that carry you along not with a hook and jerk, but with the steady and irresistible pull of the human heart toward truth and understanding.
The author - who, if I ever met her, I would not be able to think of thing to say to out of sheer intimidation - pulls off such a feat of writing, storytelling and character development that it nearly drives this aspiring writer to despair. She writes in numerous voices, styles and eras and pulls it all off absolutely convincingly. And her thematic content is profound, delicate, intangible...but she gets it across, both her questions and her answers, with the closest thing to true clarity that one could hope for.
This is the kind of book that resonates in your mind and quiet places, the kind that lives in the back of your thoughts on the days you are reading it and, I'm sure, intends to stay there long after. It says so much about love, and life, and identity and possession (the title is very apt), so much about our limits and how we can strive for something beautiful despite them. It has romance, tragedy, resolution, despair, redemption...but it is all done quietly, with great care, and it leaves behind both quiet golden places of peace and hard, unequivocal stones of sadness.
This is just the worst, most unsatisfying review. It is already too long, and yet it says almost nothing. Sigh.
I'll take a couple more stabs. Reading this book - and I've only read a few books I'd say this about - was very much an experience. The slow unfolding of the story, the living and breathing and losing and loving of the characters, the stumble toward truth and understanding...it was something felt as a reader, something almost lived through, rather than merely observed and noted. It is a true, bleeding slice of the human experience, in all its failures. It does not take, I think, a hopeful view of people, or even of love (again, reference the title); there is, arguably, not a single functional, healthy relationship in the book. But there is truth in that dark view, and even human hope in the constant struggle for something better. We are all broken, in our own ways, the author seems to say...but just calling something broken implies that there is such a thing as "whole," and that therefore we can find redemption, perhaps, in seeking that wholeness together. We may fail...but there is the trying. An excerpt, from near the end, that sums this up well (and gives a taste of the author's power of language): "In the morning, the whole world had a strange new smell. It was the smell of the aftermath, a green smell, a smell of shredded leaves and oozing resin, of crushed wood and splashed sap, a tart smell, which bore some relation to the smell of bitten apples. It was the smell of death and destruction and it smelled fresh and lively and hopeful."
Will everyone like this book? No. Some will yawn and think it boring. Some will actually hate it, I'm sure. Its heavy and thick and has absolutely no gunpowder. It is not for a Da Vinci Code reader (and I don't mean that to be critical...any reading is good reading). But for lovers of literature, this is the book...both because it IS literature, and because it deals so much with literature as a topic and a passion and a human expression. This book is about how we define ourselves, our world, and each other. It is a book for thoughtful grown-ups.
I have far too many books to read, whole shelves full of books waiting for my attention...but as much as I hate to say it, "Possession" might be one I have to take the time to read again.