It is interesting to me that somehow it happened that I read Franzen's books in the reverse order of their publication. First, I read "Freedom", then "The Corrections", and finally "2727", the book that Franzen wrote first.
A friend of mine had already pointed out that "2727" is Franzen's weakest book. And indeed. (although it is still far better than anything that Donna Tartt has ever written).
I don't know what to say about this book. Franzen started writing it in 1984, inspired by Orwell's "1984", and published it four years later. He set the story in a somewhat imaginary St. Louis of that time. What is interesting to me is that the main antagonist... is an antagonist. A woman. And of Indian origin at that. That wouldn't pass nowadays. It is also interesting that Franzen wrote about HIV in this book (true, not under that name, but as about some new flu that prostitutes are suffering from en masse). And that was a time when we were just starting to understand that this virus exists.
Definitely, Franzen's "The Corrections" and "Freedom" are still my favorites (maybe in that order), and "2727" remains significant as the debut of a great American writer (who, as far as I understand, has the biggest drawback of not having an account on Twitter).
A few weeks ago, I came across an interesting and, I think, objective article that deals with the figure and work of this writer. I recommend that you read it. As well as Franzen's books.
”His face was sifting through her hair, seeking skin. She twisted around in his arm and let him kiss her throat. Over his slicked-back hair she saw the hotel room’s ‘luxurious’ bedspread, its ‘contemporary’ art print, the ‘distinctive’ roughcast ceiling. He unbuttoned the top of her blouse, snorting intermittently. Probably the best metaphor for the State was sexual obsession. An absorbing parallel world, a clandestine organizing principle. Men moved mountains for the sake of a few muscle contractions in the dark.”
S. Jammu is an extremely ambitious woman. She rose rapidly through the police ranks in India. When the chance to become the St. Louis chief of police presents itself, she seizes it, believing the New World is hers to claim. Her arrival in Missouri is not just that of an individual but of an entire network. The skills and connections she cultivated in India are set to prove effective in the Gateway to the West. Her wealthy mother has ties to the highest echelons of power, and a flood of real estate money impacts St. Louis. Martin Probst, a key figure in the city's power structure, becomes a target. His reputation is spotless, but Jammu's network aims to turn him and his family to their advantage.
Probst, however, is naive in the face of such ambition. He has lived in a bubble of irreproachability for a long time. After building the Arch, he feels his life's work is done, and what follows seems insignificant. But he will soon find himself consumed by desires he never expected, which could potentially marginalize or even destroy him. The political machinations in this novel are captivating. We witness the numerous strings attached to Jammu and the slow, ponderous workings of the St. Louis political machine as it tries to deal with an adversary it doesn't fully understand. The lack of morality, the rapacious capitalism, and the unquenchable greed are all rather unnerving. Jammu's charisma, beauty, and determination make it easy for her to deceive people, and the dirty dealings behind her facade are rarely exposed.
This is a highly ambitious debut novel. The prose shows great promise, hinting at the talent that would be on full display in Franzen's future works. The plot is complex and convoluted, and human behavior is portrayed in a bleak light, much like in the darkest Shakespearean plays. While the novel does slow down in the middle, it still manages to hold the reader's attention. There are loose ends that some reviewers have criticized, but I believe that life is messy, and a good novel should reflect that. Franzen was only 29 when this book was published, yet his talent was already evident. I'm looking forward to reading his second novel, Strong Motion, soon. I've neglected his early works for too long, and I'm eager to see how his writing has evolved.
Franzen's debut novel, "The Twenty-Seventh City," is a remarkable work. The guiding principle of Martin's personality, as described by Franzen, is the desire to be left alone. If in the past he sought attention and novelty, it was because they proved his difference, and solitude begins in difference. The picture of Franzen on the back cover gives the impression that he was already formulating ideas for this book in the womb. I was inspired to read it when I was headed to St. Louis, considering the recent race tensions there. The novel features sex, violence, politics, and intrigue, aspiring to be both a thriller and literary work. It is ambitious, with a messy plot that abandons threads, but also inventive and cracked in places. Despite not being his best work, it seems to have captured the paranoid, xenophobic, and social and race conflicts of the Obama era. Franzen's fixation on the American family is in its early stages here, with family dinners, spousal tensions, and more. His prose is great, though uneven, and his plot is complicated, with a masterful setting. This may not be a masterpiece, but it clearly indicates his future ambition and trajectory.
Franzen's first book is a rich tapestry of details, brimming with ideas. The characters, though perhaps not entirely sympathetic, inhabit the city of St. Louis, which is mired in political corruption and economic hardship. Amidst this turmoil is a young and ambitious police chief from India, Jammu, who has her own set of aspirations.
There are some truly amazing set pieces in the book, such as a car bomb, a terrorist bombing during a football game in a local stadium, kidnappings, and a burnt-out house. However, these do not fully compensate for the plethora of characters. The main ones are Jammu, the police chief, and Martin Probst, a developer who built the iconic Arch and is now overseeing the municipal mess. Jammu wants to merge St. Louis with the county in the name of Marxist socialism, while Probst, as a paragon of the status quo, opposes this.
Racism, crime, despoiled marriages, rebellious daughters, media saturation, and an arch-conservative general all play a part in this complex story. Chaos and violence erupt, but the public shows an indifference to these matters. When Marxist praxis rears its ugly head through Jammu's indoctrination, it proves to be ineffectual. As the book so vividly demonstrates, cities are not only built on ideas but can also have lives of their own within the body politic.
Being a die-hard fan of both The Corrections and Freedom, I was eager to delve into Franzen's earlier work. I began with The Twenty-Seventh City and was rather astonished by the significant differences compared to his later masterpieces. Instead of a satirical slice of American (family) life, this novel presents as a political thriller of sorts.
The story commences when S. Jammu, an Indian police officer with dual nationality, assumes the role of the head of the St. Louis police department. She hatches a devious conspiracy with the aim of amassing more power and wealth. Martin Probst, a highly respected local entrepreneur, finds himself more or less at the center of this web of intrigue, as Jammu attempts to win him over and thereby gain the necessary traction to direct all political and financial deals.
The novel's framework holds promise initially, but as the story progresses, it loses credibility. The conspiracy is like Swiss cheese, full of holes. There are numerous unanswered questions, countless loose ends, and far too many absurd twists. Franzen demands a great deal of good faith from his readers, yet there are simply too many elements that don't add up. He asks me to take leaps of faith too frequently, and I'm finding it increasingly difficult to maintain a willing suspension of disbelief.
The novel's strength lies in its page-turning quality. As long as you're engrossed in reading, the flaws don't seem overly glaring. You just keep turning the pages, eager to discover what lies ahead. Although it's not a pure-blooded thriller, it reads like one, keeping you on the edge of your seat. However, when you take a moment to pause and reflect, the credibility crumbles like a house of cards. I don't wish to spoil too much, but what purpose do the conspiracy theorists serve if they contribute nothing实质性 to the story? Or how does Probst, a righteous and honest man, manage to change so abruptly when all the hardships he has endured haven't affected his ethics? As a reader, it's hard to swallow these plot developments.
Moreover, the conspiracy remains rather nebulous. You don't obtain a clear and distinct picture of its ultimate goal. Sure, you can attempt to piece it together on your own, but no matter how hard you try to connect the dots, the puzzle never quite fits perfectly. It simply doesn't add up at all!
I do understand that this is Franzen's debut novel, and he was still in the process of finding his unique voice. And I must admit that the seeds of his brilliant satirical observations, which reach full fruition in his later works, are very much present. The way he portrays the various families echoes the dysfunctional relationships seen in The Corrections or Freedom. So, it's interesting to witness Franzen's evolution as a writer. Technically, the novel is well-written, and it does have that page-turning allure. Nevertheless, the plot line is extremely shaky and lacks credibility, and the narrative is filled with holes. It's an interesting debut novel for fans, but in my opinion, it's not an essential addition to your personal reading list. If you haven't explored Franzen's work yet and are keen to discover his talent, I would highly recommend The Corrections or Freedom.