Strong Motion is an ambitious sophomore work by Jonathan Franzen.

It weaves together a complex family drama, an environmental thriller, and a nuanced love story, all set against the backdrop of seismic disturbances in the Boston area.

The novel follows Louis Holland, whose life is upended when his mother inherits a large fortune from her late stepmother.

This windfall not only alters the financial situation of the Holland family but also引发了一系列个人问题.

As Louis copes with the changing family dynamics, including tensions with his sister and the legacy of inherited discontent, he also becomes involved with Renee Seitchek, a seismologist.

Renee's research into the mysterious earthquakes suggests a disturbing connection to corporate environmental malpractice.

Franzen skillfully uses the tremors, both literal and metaphorical, as a motif throughout the novel.

The scientific aspects, exploring the possibility of induced seismicity, are well-researched and offer a timely critique of corporate greed and environmental neglect.

This not only emphasizes the unpredictable forces of nature but also reflects the internal turmoil of the characters' lives.

The relationship between Louis and Renee is the emotional heart of the narrative, providing a counterpoint to the broader social and ecological issues.

However, Strong Motion is not without flaws.

The pacing sometimes lags, and some themes can seem forced or inconsistently developed.

Certain characters, especially in the Holland family, verge on being caricatures rather than fully realized individuals.

Despite these shortcomings, the novel's overall impact remains significant.

For readers interested in Franzen's literary evolution and a story that combines personal, scientific, and social crises, Strong Motion offers an engaging look at an author's potential.

It is a work of intellectual ambition that, although not perfect, lays the foundation for the themes and character depth that would define Franzen's later masterpieces.

Earthquakes, man. They’re truly terrifying. I have personal experience to back this up as I endured the great Melbourne quake of 2021. At the very beginning, I had the impression that someone was driving a truck carelessly down the alley located at the rear of our yard. However, shortly after that, the wine bottles on our shelves began to clink together, and then the power suddenly went off with a popping sound. In a state of panic, I dashed outside and stood in the yard, looking up at the sky rather than at the ground.

When my computer finally managed to turn back on, someone on Teams had made an announcement stating “Earthquake in Hawthorn!” Subsequently, someone else mentioned that there had also been an earthquake in Essendon. It was a truly nerve-wracking experience that I will never forget. The uncertainty and the potential danger that earthquakes bring are enough to make anyone's heart race.

I still remember the chaos and confusion that ensued during and after the earthquake. People were running around, trying to figure out what was happening and if it was safe. The sound of the earth shaking and the sight of things falling and breaking were truly horrifying.

Thankfully, no one was seriously injured in our area, but the experience served as a reminder of how powerful and unpredictable nature can be. It also made me realize the importance of being prepared for such disasters. From now on, I will make sure to have an emergency kit ready and to know what to do in case of an earthquake.

I hope that no one else has to go through such a terrifying experience, but if they do, I hope they are able to stay safe and find the strength to deal with the aftermath. Earthquakes may be scary, but we can overcome them if we are prepared and work together.

There is always a bit of distrust when a work published in 1992 is only translated more than 25 years later. This distrust is even more legitimate when it comes to one of the most bankable authors of a publishing house, the author of many bestsellers: JONATHAN FRANZEN. Second alert, I had heard not very positive reviews that pointed out one of the most common mistakes among young authors – Franzen was a young author at the time even if it's hard to imagine – the fact of putting too many things in his novels, in other words, of making them too much or trying to do too much with them.

There is a specific odor, an ancient, humid and melancholy odor, that emanates from Boston after sunset, when the temperature is cool and there is no wind. Convection picks it up from the ecologically disturbed waters of the Mystic and the Charles, as well as from the lakes. The abandoned mills and the sleeping steel mills of Waltham diffuse it. It is the breath exhaled by its old tunnels, the spirit that rises from the piles of glass dulled by pollution and the ballast of old railroad tracks, from all those silent places where the iron rusts, where the rotten concrete crumbles like an inorganic Roquefort, and where the petroleum distillates return to the earth. In a city where there is not a single plot of land that has not been transformed, it has become a primordial odor, the odor of nature that has replaced nature.

But nothing could be done, I must really be a fan of Franzen – rereading my rhapsodic article dedicated to Freedom it seems quite obvious. I must admit that I'm rubbing my hands at the prospect of reading his flagship novel _The Corrections_ and that I recently bought the rather mediocrely received Purity. Even if I agree a bit on the possible superfluity of dealing with two big social issues in a novel, this vast field gives the author the opportunity to juggle between the two – even if I understand that it is legitimate to think that all this is a bit back to basics. The characters are certainly quite deliberately original, but they are still for me far from the stereotypical characters that can be found in lower-end novels.

All the sadness of the 1970s was gathered in Jurene's drawer, all those years during which Renée had not been happy and had not had what she wanted, afflicted as she was with pimples and friends she was ashamed of, those years whose pie-crust collars, platform soles, flared pants and overly long hair (don't the mentally ill neglect to have their hair cut?) now seemed to her the symbolic and literal panoply of misfortune.

The alternation of different focal points between the destiny of the characters and the ecological concerns – as I was saying there is also a question of another social issue that I do not reveal so as not to disclose – offers a very pleasant variety and in fact indispensable to hold on such a length (~700 pages). I must certainly not be objective, but I really enjoyed this reading which was not affected by the small flaws mentioned at the beginning of the article. To be honest, I may have slowed down a little on the last hundred pages, but nothing to make a big deal out of it.

https://www.aubonroman.com/2019/11/ph...

For the love of muffins, Franzen, just go masturbate to your tortured metaphors and Cruella mommy figures.

It's truly a pity that such excessive and perhaps overly indulgent use of these elements is being inflicted upon the readers.

Franzen seems to be so fixated on these particular themes that he fails to see the potential harm it may cause to the overall reading experience.

Instead of exploring a wider range of emotions and ideas, he repeatedly leans on these tortured metaphors and rather one-sided mommy figures.

This not only limits the depth and breadth of his work but also tires the patience of those who are trying to engage with his writing.

Maybe it's time for Franzen to take a step back and consider a more diverse and inclusive approach to his storytelling, one that doesn't rely so heavily on these specific tropes and allows for a more fulfilling and engaging read for all.

One of Franzen's better books offers a captivating exploration. It delves into how earthquakes are intertwined with corporate culpability. We see a family inheritance that tears a family apart, and a complex relationship between a brilliant seismologist and a balding man who struggles to find inner peace and harmony with his family.

There are moments that grip the reader like a thrilling suspense story. Louis Holland and Renee Seitchek uncover a corporate conspiracy that might be accountable for the seismic activity in the northeast United States. Additionally, there's an engaging subplot involving abortion and a young minister. He engages in a debate about the pros and cons of his stance with a willful woman, and this subplot concludes with a proverbial, seismic shocker.

However, there are times when Franzen's writing gets a bit too verbose and bloated. Still, it's perhaps better to err on the side of having too much rather than too little. Earthquake destruction is vividly描绘 throughout the story, and so are the bruised hearts of the characters, adding depth and emotional resonance to the narrative.

I truly wish I had composed this review at an earlier stage, when the novel was still vividly etched in my mind. However, it suffices to state that I thoroughly relished this book.

It leans more towards being plot-driven than what I have grown accustomed to expect from Franzen. Nevertheless, the character building is almost as outstanding as it is in his subsequent works. In fact, the characterization here might even be more captivating. This is because when the perspective undergoes a shift midway through, we obtain an almost completely opposite view of one of our central characters.

This led me to pose questions such as who defines a person's qualities and how consistent are those qualities not only over time but also from one interaction to another, and from moment to moment? Anyhow, I had an enjoyable experience.

Do check out Elliott Holt's excellent review of this book (which is what inspired me to pick it up) if you desire more details regarding the story and also to peruse her insights about the motifs that Franzen employs throughout. I will simply assert that if you have never read this early work of Franzen, it is most definitely worth your time.

Strong Motion is a novel that delves into the complex lives of its characters.

It follows a young man in his early 20s who loses his job and finds himself in a romantic entanglement with an attractive but not overly intelligent girl his age, while also being intimidated by an older, wiser, yet less attractive woman.

The story does an excellent job of setting up the families and characters surrounding the main ones, creating a rich and detailed world.

Louis, the protagonist, is a Franzen archetype - a brooding, cynical intellectual who often makes questionable choices and is not necessarily designed to be sympathetic.

Renee Seitchek, the Harvard seismologist, becomes involved with Louis, and their relationship forms the emotional core of the novel.

At first, Renee seems harsh and unsympathetic, but as the story progresses, her true nature is revealed, and she becomes a more admirable and complex character.

The novel also explores themes such as feminism, environmentalism, and the nature of relationships.

The metaphor of "strong motion" is central to the plot, representing the instability and unpredictability of both earthquakes and human relationships.

Overall, Strong Motion is a thought-provoking and engaging read that offers insights into the human condition and the challenges of modern life.

While it may not be as funny or satirical as some of Franzen's other works, it is still a worthy addition to his oeuvre and a must-read for fans of literary fiction.

Jonathan Franzen must have endured some truly nightmarish experiences with human beings. This is evident from the fact that his characters are frequently among the most despicable and frustrating individuals one could encounter. However, there is a strange allure to them. Somehow, you end up developing feelings for these characters. In my case, it almost always means a transformation from nearly pure hatred to one of sympathy.

The other contradiction regarding Franzen lies in his technical sensibilities. His attention to detail is so minuscule at times that it feels as if you are perusing a manual for a complex piece of heavy machinery, complete with numbers and hyphens. Nevertheless, he manages to enclose these sometimes seemingly interminable descriptions of the mundane with some of the most exquisitely beautiful and profoundly insightful prose one can envision.

This particular work wasn't my absolute favorite among Franzen's books. At certain points, I found it a bit of a struggle to maintain my enjoyment. However, the story had a powerful grip on me, and I was truly sorry when it finally came to an end.

Franzen's postmodern, or almost postmodern work is quite an interesting read. The story presents various themes that are common in his other works. Louis has issues with both his mother and sister, who are manipulative and similar in nature. Due to an unexpected inheritance, they bring out the worst in each other. Meanwhile, Louis finds himself chasing after problematic women like Laurel and Renée. Laurel is a spoiled brat, while Renée is a wounded woman who lashes out in response to provocations only she perceives. There are also earthquakes, an anti-abortion preacher, and a multinational company that pollutes and causes disasters. The novel has a rather good-natured ending with the restoration of relationships and hope for a better future. It's clear that this was written before the crisis and the unnamed event that shook America and affected civil rights. However, it is undoubtedly Franzen's most postmodern novel yet.

One of the notable quotes from the book is: "A person could find themselves loving enemies and beggars and ridiculous parents, people it had been so easy to keep at a distance and towards whom, if in a moment of weakness one let oneself go and loved them, one then acquired an eternal responsibility." This quote highlights the complex nature of human relationships and the unexpected bonds that can form.

Oh god, I loved it so much.

Finally, I got to read an early Franzen!

This book is extremely long and dense.

But of course, ultimately it is superficial, yet in a good way.

A misfit becomes a man; a young woman accepts her inevitable womanhood through adversity; everybody may be happy one day even though the end is near.

The metaphors and similes are spellbinding.

Well, spell-bindingly bad, of course, and there are an abundance of them.

John Updike is clearly an influence that makes young Franzen very, very anxious.

And yet, when he forgets about the dubious magic of linguistic prowess and focuses on a) the absurd in everyday conversation [those exchanges with Melanie, the mother, are truly priceless] b) on the intensity of the characters' obsessions [here, of course, Don DeLillo is the obvious model], the author's nervousness subsides and some really dense and convincing prose flows.

It's a fascinating read that shows both the promise and the growing pains of a talented writer.

I am clearly a Franzen fan.

Few novels have held as much significance for me as Freedom, and I was more than eager to frequently advocate for Purity.

Strong Motion is the second to last Franzen novel I had to read, and it marked my first disappointment.

In it, I discover all of the elements that people criticize about his work (which I had hitherto liked).

There is a dedication to process and research that muddles the narrative flow.

The language is verbose and sometimes pretentious, lacking both beauty and descriptiveness.

If I were penning a serious review, I would provide examples, but this is just for my own thoughts, so I don't mind.

Honestly, I don't know how he would justify the lack of concision in his writing here.

The novel, like all of his works, is dense.

However, for the most part, it consists of about 200 pages of actual plot, and we can fairly easily deduce the conspiracy early on.

That being said, everything I adore about Franzen is palpable on the pages, but all I could perceive was the evolution of the brilliant writer that I would rather read.

It takes an incredibly long time to construct a house from scratch; it consumes a significant amount of calories to transport oneself from Philadelphia to Pittsburgh. Even if one is not wealthy, one is still living in a state of indebtedness. One is indebted to the Malaysian textile workers, the Korean circuit assemblers, and the Haitian sugarcane cutters who live six to a room. One is also indebted to the bank, as well as to the earth from which one has extracted oil, coal, and natural gas that can never be replaced. Additionally, one is indebted to the hundred square yards of landfill that will bear the burden of one's personal waste for ten thousand years. One is indebted to the air and water, and by proxy, to the Japanese and German bond investors. Moreover, one is indebted to the great-grandchildren who will be paying for one's conveniences long after one is gone: they will be living six to a room, contemplating their skin cancers, and knowing, unlike oneself, how long it takes to travel from Philadelphia to Pittsburgh when living within one's means.

Very possibly Franzen's greatest novel: not his most enjoyable (Freedom), not his most exciting (Purity), not even his best (Corrections), but his most essential, most captivating, and most truthful.