Reading was Never so Easy
The Reader, 1995. When fifteen-year-old Michael Berg falls ill on his way home from school, he is rescued by Hanna, a woman twice his age. In time she becomes his lover, enthralling him with her passion, but puzzling him with her odd silences. Then she disappears. Michael next sees Hanna when she is on trial for a hideous crime, refusing to defend herself. As he watches, he begins to realize that Hanna may be guarding a secret she considers more shameful than murder.
I. Digression, Otherness, and Introduction
A devoted Kate Winslet fan, I drove to the nearest independent theater in the city in order to catch a screening of “The Reader”. I remember, vividly, how embarrassing it was to stifle one’s tears next to complete strangers (though I found comfort in that I wasn’t one of the few who were outright bawling). Though it is a widely accepted “fact” that film adaptions of novels cannot compare to the original, the 2008 film was surprisingly close. Total digression here, but how do you pronounce “Ralph Fiennes”? I say “Ray-ph Fuh-ennes.” Huh.
I always seem to pick this exact copy of The Reader up when I’m at the library waiting for a ride. It’s always on the first floor. And with my apathy towards Mark Z. Danielewski’s House of Leaves (I am dissasppointed in the fact that I actually bought it. *le sigh* Oh book club, I don’t even…), I decided to finally finish this lovely little gem of a bestseller.
II. Love and Satisfaction
Schlink’s style is easy and quick. I loved the candor of the speaker; he never really tip-toed around his thoughts or suppositions and instead stated what he believed directly, matter-of-fact-ly. Even when it was only a theory or an interpretation of Hanna’s reaction or inner thoughts, one can still take it as fact. Cool. The length only makes me adore the short novel more. One can easily finish it in a day; the pace was steady and focused on the only subject we really cared about: Hanna. It’s a little depressing to imagine a boy (and then a man) whose life is always haunted by the memory of her. Very Dante Gabriel Rossetti, eh?
What was so moving was that, yes, an inability to read and write is considered shameful in contemporary first world countries. Communism may not rule the world, but education is, for the most part, public. But to be able to live into adulthood (36 years) as a secret illiterate… I was full of “WUT?” It illuminates how different society was 50 years ago. It was embarrassing then and it’s more embarrassing now. Parents hate to even think of their children as being a little bit behind for their age group.
I appreciated how Schlink juxtaposed his two leads; they were polar opposites. On one hand we have the bright, young (15 years) Michael, boy, middle class, and educated (he goes to university). On the other hand we have the realist, middle-aged Hanna, woman, working class, and secretly illiterate. It was fascinating to visually imagine them grow farther and farther apart as they moved on with their own lives. And yet, the impact that each other had on their lives remains with them well into adulthood, continually having repercussions in the manner in which they approach monumental decisions. Very nice.
III. Criticism and Petty Claims
The sterilization of Nazi crimes and the horrors of the Holocaust is my only complaint. I appreciate Schlink attempting to address that what Hanna committed was, without a doubt, heinous and inexcusable, but we were made to like her; as a member of the audience, we were made to sympathize with her and maybe even pity her. Schlink had his ‘protagonist’ Michael visit an internment camp to counteract the trial in order to subtly say, “Yes. Hanna is, by association, vicious for being a Nazi. Don’t get me wrong!” But that is the reason why the novel is so captivating–because she is a Nazi. Otherwise, she’d just be a pitiful, illiterate pedophile.
