I'm actually reading this for the 2nd time, which is something I rarely do. It's truly remarkable how this piece has drawn me back in. This time around, I'm really focusing intently on the language and imagery. The words seem to dance on the page, painting vivid pictures in my mind. I find myself loving it even more than I did the first time. It's as if with each reading, I discover new layers and nuances that I missed before. Yay, Shirley! Her work is truly a masterpiece that continues to captivate and inspire. I can't wait to see what else she has in store for us.

Ok. I truly need someone who is smarter than me, perhaps a literature major, to read this book. I have read "Sons and Lovers" by D.H. Lawrence and I'm trying to figure out what is similar between them. I find it really hard to put it into words clearly. But I have this feeling about both books that there is some hidden story beneath the words I'm reading, yet I just can't figure out what it is. They are filled with what seem to me as random non-sequiturs that pop up right in the middle of paragraphs. I have this thought that if I were to analyze each paragraph meticulously, maybe I could uncover the deeper meaning and its place in the story. However, that's not really what I'm looking for in a book.

Take these sentences for example. They are thrown into a paragraph about how the main character is studying the effects of the war in Asia: "With the somber choice, there had come much happiness in far communities. There had been the singular transcendent encounters. He had no wish to explicate or control." What choice is this? What did he not wish to explicate or control?

That excerpt is then almost immediately followed by this gem that really struck me: "He wanted now discoveries to which he sensed himself accessible, that would alter him, as one is altered involuntarily by a great work of art, or an effusion of silent knowledge. Aldred Leith had developed stoicism that might have been a temporary condition of his war, of his task and travels. He knew however, that the capacity for affection must be kept current if it is not to diminish into postcards, and that responsiveness in youth is no guarantee against later dispassion. His father, in this, was something of a caution. In Oliver Leith an intense original load of high feeling had been depleted. He was working now from a keen memory of authentic emotion."

Or this one: "They sat in the gallery of a small cafe in Wellington Street. Below them, in the pit, there was a smoky crowd. Youth in uniforms recalled the time of war, but nothing of war's suspense. In wartime, in such a place, there would have been the hopeful songs, 'When the Lights Go On Again' or 'There's a Great Day Dawning'. When that dawn came, it seemed that all Europe had died in the night."

There were moments that I really loved, but they were buried amid dense prose that I just couldn't penetrate. So with those criticisms, it might have been a 2-star. But the final nail in the 1-star rating was the love affair at the center of the story. It was between a 30-something-year-old man and a 16 to 17-year-old girl. It was pathetic. It reminded me of that time I saw Alec Baldwin being interviewed about his new young wife and he talked about how they had a real spiritual connection. Um... don't kid yourself buddy.

A friend had highly recommended Hazzard's writing to me, which piqued my curiosity and made me eager to read one of her books.

At first, the description of the story didn't really capture my interest. However, it was the only one available at the library, so I decided to borrow it anyway.

The setting of the story, which was post-WWII, was a difficult time, and the story itself was also a challenging one. But to my pleasant surprise, Hazzard's writing was just beautiful. Her prose was so elegant and engaging that it drew me in and made me completely invested in the story.

I am very glad that I took the chance and read this book. It has opened my eyes to the talent of Shirley Hazzard, and I look forward to reading more of her books in the future. I am sure that each one will be a unique and wonderful reading experience.

The Transit of Venus eventually managed to win me over, although there were times when I felt frustrated with Shirely Hazzard's mannered and oblique style. However, the rewards for plodding through this effort were relatively few. Hazzard's account of the romance between war veteran Aldred Leith and 17-year-old Helen Driscoll covers a wide canvas, both geographically and historically. The action takes place from Hiroshima and Hong Kong to London and Wellington, in the immediate aftermath of World War II, a time of great political and personal instability.

This choice of backdrop for the central love story shows a certain ambition on Hazzard's part. It's not just an average star-crossed love story. No, this is about love in tumultuous times, and the romance of Aldred and Helen is presented as more significant because it unfolds in a world that has been torn apart and is still struggling to establish a new order.

I wish I could say that Hazzard has been successful. Certainly, the book received a lot of critical acclaim. But to me, it's nothing more than a slightly better written version of The Bridges of Madison County. Aldred and Helen are two of the dullest protagonists I've ever come across. They are implausibly noble and sensitive, just like Francesca and Robert in Madison County. This makes The Great Fire a love story that's hard to take seriously.

Hazzard tries to make us believe that Aldred and Helen are special by constantly reminding us of their qualities. They read books, discuss art and profound ideas. Aldred is brave and noble, and Helen is wise beyond her years. She also surrounds them with cartoonishly yobbish, nasty, colonial caricatures to make them look even better. But all this doesn't make up for the fact that they are just not interesting characters.

Personally, I prefer characters with flaws and weaknesses. They add depth and make the story more engaging. I would rather read about the moral ambiguity of Graham Green's whisky priests or the cool amorality of Tom Ripley than the nobility and sensitivity of Aldred Leith. Readers looking for insights into the postwar milieu of South East Asia during the collapse of colonialism will also be disappointed. Hazzard has little of interest to say about this topic.

Despite its positive critical reception, The Great Fire seemed entirely ordinary to me. The characters remained two-dimensional and failed to have any real impact on me.

This novel is predominantly set in Japan and Hong Kong following the Second World War.

Apparently, it delves into the dissolution of the colonial world and the general post-war societal and personal transformation. However, I discovered that the narration was strangely cryptic and incoherent in certain parts.

The language and style often seemed pompous without any obvious justification. The main issue, though, lies in the description of Aldred Leith's (the main protagonist) relationship with the Driscoll children.

It is precious, almost Dickensian, especially his infatuation with teenage Helen. I simply cannot fathom how this book managed to win prestigious awards in both Australia and the USA.

I ultimately gave up reading about two thirds of the way through as I found it increasingly difficult to engage with the story and its rather convoluted and unconvincing elements.

Perhaps others may have a different perspective, but for me, this novel failed to live up to the acclaim it received.

As beautiful as the painting that is used to illustrate the cover,

Hazzard's writing is truly mesmerizing. It is so captivating that for this quality alone, she completely deserved the prize she received. Her writing is pure art, representing literature at its absolute best.

The story itself is equally compelling and powerful. It unfolds in a classic way that transports us back to a particular kind of Anglo-Saxon tradition of story-telling. We are drawn into the narrative, experiencing the emotions and events as if they were happening right before our eyes. The combination of Hazzard's beautiful writing and the engaging story makes this work a truly remarkable piece of literature that will be cherished and remembered for a long time to come.

Shirley Hazzard is a master of the written word.

She never wastes a single syllable, yet her sentences are so rich and full that they seem to contain entire universes.

Her paragraphs are like vivid paintings, skillfully depicting the settings and people with such detail and precision that you feel as if you are right there with them.

You don't just experience the smells, tastes, and sounds of the story; you are able to crawl deep inside the minds of her characters, understanding their hopes, fears, and desires.

I won't attempt to give a plot synopsis, as it is far too complex and convoluted.

But I can say with certainty that you will be completely swept away by the lives and loves of these characters, even the minor ones who you only get to know briefly in passing.

I'm sure that for a long time to come, I will find myself thinking about what has become of Aldred and Helen, and all the other countless characters I met within the pages of this book.

I truly wish them all the best.

Ugh, she's done it again. The occupational hazards of reading Hazzard in public are blatant delight (oh, the prose!) and also (restrained!) tears.

The Great Fire is a distinct book compared to Transit of Venus. It's certainly more political and both more and less romantic. Hazzard captures the unease of "peace" in a world where everyone has their own cruel story. What does it mean to live when youthful experience has shown your existence to be arbitrary? What's next after witnessing the intimate horrors of World War II - rent flesh, splattered viscera, gleeful cruelty - and the systemic ones - the camps, the bomb? Chaos has been condensed within spheres of metal and unleashed upon a town of paper houses, yet people are already contemplating the next war. It's a fascinating and unsettling portrait of postwar Asia and postwar masculinity. It's also a tender love story about wayward people who help each other (and are helped by others) amid the smoking ruins.

Two currents run through this novel. There's the fire: chaos, amputations, flaming planes, sinking ships. But there's also a seam of kindness, of generosity without agenda, of books, companionship, handwritten letters, arms linked beneath the weight of a winter coat. I also love how Hazzard narrates a love story that doesn't negate the dimensionality of others. Her supporting characters exist plausibly even after they've served their role in the plot, and their motives and tragedies are wholly their own. No one is fully knowable, including the people we love most and best, yet it's possible to forge and nurture these vital, organic bonds, even in a world where mechanized order is always on the brink of collapse.

The quotes further enhance the depth of the story. For example, "The Driscolls were disquieting as a symptom of new power: that Melba and Barry should be in the ascendant was not what one had hoped from peace. It did not even seem a cessation of hostilities." (29) Or "The girl was extremely slight, in body nearly a child; her unobtrusiveness so notable that one watched to see how it was done." (29) These quotes offer insights into the characters and the themes of the novel.

Overall, The Great Fire is a powerful and thought-provoking novel that explores the complex emotions and experiences of people in the aftermath of war. It's a must-read for anyone interested in historical fiction or stories about love and survival.

One of the few recent "award" winners that is truly deserving of the word. This is a great novel that stands out for its remarkable prose. In fact, the prose in this novel is often better, denser, and more beautiful than a significant amount of modern poetry. It has the power to transport readers into a world filled with vivid imagery and profound emotions. The author's skill in crafting sentences and paragraphs is truly masterful, creating a reading experience that is both engaging and deeply satisfying. Each word seems to be carefully chosen and placed, adding to the overall impact of the story. It is a work of art that will be cherished by readers for years to come.

This piece of writing presents several interesting aspects.

First, it features high-quality prose that, while not overly beautiful, maintains a consistent purity and is infused with a gentle melancholy mood. This creates a certain atmosphere that draws the reader in.

Secondly, there is some good characterisation. The characters are brought to life in a way that makes them somewhat relatable and engaging.

Thirdly, it tells a beautiful love story. At least, it reads like one. However, there is a hint of concern that if this were to be made into a film, it might come across as a bit creepy. This adds an element of mystery and uncertainty to the overall assessment.

Finally, the writing is very good, but it also has a tendency to be a little forgettable. Despite its strengths, it may not leave a lasting impression on the reader.

Overall, this is a piece of writing that has its merits, but also some areas that could potentially be improved upon.

The Great Fire by Shirley Hazzard presents a rather disjointed picture. The author seems to struggle in truly knowing her characters, as if they are just names on a clipboard. Despite numerous reviews lauding the book and its author, and a gestation period of around 20 years, the tale feels unfinished. The attempt to capture the aftermath of WWII on various characters in Asia falls short, as they all appear static and voiceless. In fact, many of them seem to speak with the same voice, perhaps that of an author unable to properly bring them to life and liberate them from her own consciousness.

Reading about 32-year-old Aldred Leith, with his physical and psychic battle scars, and his encounters with others in the novel, it's difficult to visualize him. His interactions with others seem distant, and even when his characteristics are revealed through written correspondence, it lacks authenticity. The relationship between Aldred and 17-year-old Helen Driscoll, who becomes his beloved, also seems stilted, both in person and in their letters.

The reference to the "Great Fire" is ambiguous. It could be meant to convey the terrible battles of WWII, the bombs dropped on Hiroshima and Nagasaki (since much of the novel is set in post-war Japan), or the latent romantic feeling between Aldred and Helen. However, the only real passion that comes through is the equally guarded one between Aldred and another ex-soldier, Peter Exley, especially since they seem to speak with interchangeable voices.

Aldred is the son of a well-published British author, Oliver Leith, who is known for his detachment. They share the same mistress, Aurora, but the discussion of their relationships lacks passion. Aurora could have been an interesting character, but she is never given a real voice.

It's hard not to wonder if the lack of passion in the novel is due to Shirley Hazzard still drafting it in her 70s or if she had more difficulty uncovering the voices of the male characters than the female ones. In contrast, Colum McCann, author of Let The Great World Spin, indicated that he had to ride a bicycle 12,000 miles to listen to the stories of those he encountered and give authentic voices to his characters. It seems that nothing similar happened with The Great Fire, where the voices all seem over-starched and robotic.

Here are some of the phrasings that I found overly formal or nonsensical: "Something carnal was not incompatible with sensibility." "Now consciousness devolved on each event in turn, as if the episodes considered over years were being dismissed one by one, people throughout the world reconsuming their experience, over and over: memory, regret, ideas, pleasures, hurrying like caged mice. What emanates from crowds as seething." "But she dreaded these death sentences that came to her as if from the perspective of future years: the antipodean consolation of having once touched infinity. As if, in age, she looked back to the exotic evenings when she had bowled along in a chariot, singing about the Foggy Dew."

Admittedly, these sentences are presented without context, but there is often a sense that the words are not really meant to relate to the characters or the situations, putting the reader at a distance from the author's intent. The novel is set partly in Japan, but there is no real feeling of the Japanese people, their food, clothes, or their feelings about defeat. It also briefly touches on China during a critical time, but the confrontation is merely alluded to and then dropped. In contrast, a scene in New Zealand names specific stores and streets of little consequence to most readers.

I did enjoy the loving relationship between young Helen Driscoll and her critically ill brother Ben, but their parents are mostly absent, and the bond between the siblings is eventually severed when Ben is taken away for experimental treatment and dies alone. While there is a reunion of sorts between Helen and Aldred at the end of the novel, it feels as estranged as most of the characters' relationships with each other and as this reader's connection to the story.

After reading The Great Fire, I'm not unmoved by some of the positive comments from professional reviewers and those at G/R, but I wonder if they are relying on the memory of Ms. Hazzard's earlier works. The unflinchingly buoyant reviews by the Ann Pachetts of the literary world, listed on the book's cover and end-papers, may also be influenced by the fact that they are fellow authors. A reviewer for The New Yorker claims that "hierarchies of feelings, perceptions, and taste abound in Shirley Hazzard's writing," but in my view, this novel is poorly constructed, with underdeveloped characters and words and phrasings that make it seem like a poor translation.

The Great Fire by Shirley Hazzard gives the impression of a novel where the author never came to know her own characters, except perhaps on a clipboard. There are many reviews heralding the book & its author but even with a gestation process of some 20 years, the tale seems unfinished. More than the attempt to capture the feeling of WWII's aftermath on a variety of characters who experienced the war in Asia, they all seem rather static & voiceless.







Or rather, many of them speak with an identical voice, perhaps that of an author who was unable to properly animate the characters, to liberate them from her own consciousness.



In reading the story of 32 year-old Aldred Leith, bearing physical as well as psychic battle scars & his encounters with others in the novel, I had great difficulty visualizing him, especially since his interactions with others seem at a great distance. Some of his characteristics are revealed in the form of written correspondence but even in the presence of a 17 year old girl named Helen Driscoll, someone who become Leith's beloved, their words seem as stilted when they are together as when they craft letters to each other.



The question becomes one of deciding whether the reference to the "Great Fire" is meant to convey the terrible battles of WWII, the bombs dropped on Hiroshima & Nagasaki, with much of the novel set in post-war Japan, or the suggestion of a latent, very guarded romantic feeling between Aldred & Helen. To my mind, the only real passion I comprehended was an equally guarded one between Aldred Leith and another ex-soldier named Peter Exley, particularly since they seem to speak with interchangeable voices.



Aldred is the son of a well-published British author named Oliver Leith, a man "known for his detachment", someone seemingly held at both an emotional & a geographic distance from his son. They do however share the same mistress, but not at the same time and even the discussion of the 6 month intimate relationship between a younger Aldred & Aurora (later his father's lover), lacks any semblance of passion. Aurora may not have been properly cast for a "Mrs. Robinson role" but she seemed at least a potentially interesting character who is never given a real voice.







Not to be dismissive of the author but one wonders if the lack of passion is because Shirley Hazard was still drafting the book into her 70s or because she had even greater difficulty uncovering the voices of the males in the novel than the female characters.



In a talk to the readers of my village who had chosen Let The Great World Spin as it as the "One Book" choice to be read & discussed a few years ago, Colum McCann indicated that he had the characters in place for the novel but was unable to craft their voices. At this point, the author mentioned that he rode a bicycle 12,000 miles across the U.S., Canada & into Mexico listening to the stories of those he encountered, making notes to later be used to fully populate the characters of his unfinished novel with authentic voices.



My appraisal is that nothing similar happened with The Great Fire, where the voices all seemed over-starched, almost like statues, never stirring the reader, let alone acting with anything akin to a forceful rather than a robotic manner.



Here are just a few of the phrasings that I found ranged from the overly formal to the nonsensical:

Something carnal was not incompatible with sensibility.



Now consciousness devolved on each event in turn, as if the episodes considered over years were being dismissed one by one, people throughout the world reconsuming their experience, over & over: memory, regret, ideas, pleasures, hurrying like caged mice. What emanates from crowds as seething.



But she dreaded these death sentences that came to her as if from the perspective of future years: the antipodean consolation of having once touched infinity. As if, in age, she looked back to the exotic evenings when she had bowled along in a chariot, singing about the Foggy Dew.



Fairness rolled over him again, like fog. Evasion, after all took many forms: in her, repressiveness; and, in himself, the general amnesty for humankind.

Admittedly, I offer these sentences without context but there is often a general sense that the words are not really meant to relate to characters or to situations, putting the reader at a great distance from the author's intent. Beyond that, the novel is set partly in Japan but without any feeling of Japanese people or their food, clothes, their feelings about defeat, etc., perhaps merely recreating vague memories of the author's time there ages before.



Neither is there any real reaction to the devastation of the two atomic bombs dropped on Japanese cities. We are also taken to China at a time when Mao is crossing swords with Chang Kai Shek, with the future of that country in the balance but the critical confrontation is merely alluded to & then dropped completely. And yet, with a scene placed in New Zealand, the author chooses to name specific stores & streets of little consequence to most readers.







I did enjoy the loving relationship between young Helen Driscoll & her critically ill but very precocious brother Ben, though their parents are once again mostly off in the distance, eventually severing the bond between the two siblings & leaving the family adrift when the boy is suddenly carted off by ship to take part in an experimental treatment on the west coast of America & dying alone far from his family.



While there is a kind of reunion of Helen & the main character Aldred at novel's end, it seems as estranged as do most of the characters from each other & as was this reader from the framework of the story.



After reading The Great Fire, I am not unmoved by some of the very positive comments from both professional reviewers & those at G/R but I wonder if they are not relying on the memory of some of Ms. Hazzard's earlier works. With those are the unflinchingly buoyant reviews by the Ann Pachetts of the literary world, listed on the book's cover & end-papers, the words of folks who would not dare be critical of a fellow author, who might in turn review one of their own future books.



A reviewer for the esteemed New Yorker indicates that "hierarchies of feelings, perceptions & taste abound in Shirley Hazzard's writing". However, in my own view, this novel is poorly constructed, peopled with quite undernourished characters and full of words & phrasings that make the book seem like a rather poor translation.



*Within my review, a trio of images of author Shirley Hazzard.

My Interest

I first came across this book through Modern Mrs. Darcy’s recent post titled “Where I Get My Best Book Recs + 8 Recent Reads I Loved.”

When I initiated this blog, my intention was to place greater emphasis on my own works-in-progress, which at present, remain as manuscripts. My focus lies in old man-younger woman romantic stories. Not the formulaic “romance” but rather the genuine romantic kind. There are no trophy wives or creepy characters. Just honest and decent older man-younger woman love stories. Over the years, I have posted several reviews on this blog regarding what I term “Cross-Generational Romance” in both fiction/film and real life. You can utilize the Word Cloud to locate them or type “Cross-Generational” in the search box. Last week, I posted a Real Life Cross-Generational Romance – the wedding of Lady Kitty Spencer and Michael Lewis. You can read that post here.

Anyway, when I read Anne Bogel’s post linked above, I thought to myself, “HOW could I have missed this novel??” I promptly visited my library’s website and was absolutely thrilled to discover an available e-audio copy – precisely what I required to fully enjoy this book.

The Story

“My need of your words: for such closeness there should be a word beyond love.”

Aldred Leith, the son of a renowned writer, is stationed in occupied Japan with the British Army. The Commander’s terminally ill son and daughter, both in their late teens, rapidly become his dearest friends in Japan. Benedict, afflicted with a rare illness, and Helen, his caretaker sister, have led a life largely detached from their parents and are now on the periphery of their parent’s official life. Aldred and Helen discover soulmates in each other.

My Thoughts

This is a challenging book to review. I listened to it and unfortunately, did not have the opportunity to pull over and jot down some of the numerous quotes that I adored, which is a pity. The one at the top of this post I found on Goodreads. The delicacy of the relationship, Aldred’s ethics, morals, and his awareness of Helen’s youth are all handled exceptionally well. I simply loved this book. I will likely purchase it and perhaps even allow myself to re-read it someday! (I’m 59 – I’ve pretty much given up re-reading except for a couple of “old friends”).

I have not done this book justice as I truly adored it!

My Verdict

4.0

I learned of this book via this post: https://modernmrsdarcy.com/books/the-...