A great second novel!
I've been truly impressed with everything Franzen has written. His works always manage to capture my attention and keep me engaged from start to finish.
The only reason this particular novel didn't earn a full 5 stars from me is that I couldn't help but compare it to his previous masterpieces like The Corrections, Freedom, and Purity. Those books completely blew me away with their depth, complexity, and powerful storytelling.
However, this doesn't mean that this second novel is in any way inferior. It still showcases Franzen's remarkable talent as a writer and his ability to create vivid characters and engaging plots.
Overall, I highly recommend Franzen's work to anyone who enjoys thought-provoking and well-written literature. He's definitely an author worth checking out.
Seeing as he has a new book coming out this fall, I thought it would be a good idea to finish off the last of Franzen's fictions that I hadn't read. Franzen's first novel, The 27th City, was a large, unfocused, and sprawling work. It had very occasional beautiful sentences or passages that kept the reader going, but overall, it was a complete mess. Strong Motion, on the other hand, is his first novel that actually functions as a novel. The narrative focus is sharper, the plotting is a bit more developed, the characters are a little better drawn, and the dialogue is a bit sharper.
However, for me, this is still a far cry from strong literature. The depressive social realism that Franzen depicts so beautifully in his later novels comes across as amateurish and overbearing here. Everyone in Strong Motion seems to just vacillate between bitterness, bitchiness, and unhappiness because they are just bitter, bitchy, and unhappy. The sense of place and history that he uses so perfectly to develop the flaws and disappointments of the characters in The Corrections and Freedom just isn't there in this novel.
And this isn't helped at all by his heavy-handed narration, which has moments of real beauty but also gets bogged down too easily with eye-rollingly bad imagery, tiresome jeremiads about how we've become monsters, and sudden digressions into New England history. All of these things help create a long, dense novel, but at the same time, they hide how boilerplate the actual plot is (when it eventually bothers to develop).
Some writers' style and skills emerge fully formed from their earliest work, and we never really see how they change or grow or what their early years were like. I think one reason Franzen is so respected and venerated as a novelist is because he didn't start out strong. His first two books are long, dense, overwrought, and often quite embarrassingly ineffective. Franzen could easily have spent the rest of his career churning out books that were as under-emotional and over-intellectual as this one, but instead, he managed to reinvent himself as a writer who uses sadness to create empathy, insight, and understanding, rather than just wallowing in it.