Life After Life: A Novel

What is it that drives us to pick up and complete a novel? A plot that carefully mortars brick upon brick, each clicking neatly together giving us no choice but to wonder "but then what?" until we look up surprised to find ourselves at the end? A character so intriguing we feel compelled to follow along wherever their thoughts and actions lead us? The range and depth of emotions that buffet us as we're swept along? Any one or two or all of these?What in the world, then, is Kate Atkinson thinking in her newest work, Life After Life? In giving us Ursula Todd, who struts not just one life on the stage but dozens of them, each time being ushered off in a fall of darkness only to appear onstage again in the next scene, none the worse for wear, Atkinson seems to breaking nearly every contract between author and reader.You want to care about this character? Too bad, she's gone a few dozen lines in from the start:No breath. All the world come down to this. One breath. Little lungs, like dragonfly wings failing to inflate . . . `Oh, ma'am' Bridget cried suddenly, `She's all blue, so she is.'You want to feel sad about this poor baby's death? Or the grieving mother? Don't, because a page later none of it happened:"`A girl, Doctor Fellowes? May I see her?'"Yes, Mrs. Todd, a bonny, bouncing, baby girl . . . She would have died from the cord around her next. I arrived at Fox Corner in the nick of time.'"You want to see what happens after the little girl down the lane is murdered, after Ursula is raped, after Ursula marries a wife-beater, after she shoots Hitler? I'll tell you what happens: the little girl down the lane isn't murdered, there is no rape, Ursula never marries, she doesn't shoot Hitler. Spoiler alert. Oh wait, you can't spoil a book with more than a dozen different "endings."And so it goes for five hundred pages, with Ursula's lives ranging from a half-a-page in length to more than a hundred, each of them interrupted at some point by the "fall of darkness." But it's not "Game Over;" it's "Resume Game." And so the character dusts herself off, climbs on stage once again, and keeps moving forward, sometimes from that same fatal moment, sometimes leaping years back in time to begin moving toward it all over again. And some times, if she's lucky, she gets the occasional moment of déjà vu that lets her evade some of the rougher moments in her past lives, dodging the bullet she only half-senses is wending her way.This is an author throwing out all that is supposed to keep us readers engaged. And yet, somehow, it still works. Some of Ursula's deaths, especially the early ones, are sharply witty in a macabre kind of way, like those posters with the Gorey illustrations of little kids dying in various inventive ways. But others are surprisingly moving, despite our assurance that "this too shall pass" at the mere turn of a page. And knowing things can change begins to make us fervently wish it to be so; we want these horrible things to not happen to her. And sometimes our wishes are granted. This being the early 20th Century though, not always. This is the century, after all, of World War I, the flu epidemic, World War II, the Holocaust, the Blitz. Some things, no matter how many lives one has, so long as one lives them, can't be avoided.We also care about those who move in and out of Ursula's lives, all of whom pretty much remain the same regardless of which life they appear in, including but not limited to: Hugh, her warmly approving father; Sylvie, her more sarcastic and biting mother who is less than happy but doesn't seem to know what to do about it; Aunt Izzie, the wild-at-heart there-when-she-is-needed black sheep aunt; and Maurice, her obnoxious rising-star in the Home Office brother. This novel is as much about familial relations as it is about historical events and Atkinson brings her usual sharply honed eye to bear on both equally well--the little domestic moments at dinner or at play and the more grandly dramatic moments involving exploding bombs and rescue missions racing against time.The period details of the blitz bring that time fully to life, and not only in the big moments. One of my favorite lines is when one of the characters says to Ursula, "it's just the general sense of dirtiness, as if one will never be clean again, as if poor old London will never be clean again. Everything is so awfully shabby, you know?" It's such a mundane complaint, such a small domestic complaint--shabby-- the sort of line that is so mundane, so "non-dramatic" that most authors wouldn't have thought of it, and yet, it feels like such an honest human complaint, one that fits perfectly naturally along all the more dramatic, bigger reactions to constant bombings and fires and deaths--the sobbing and screaming and senses gone numb. "Perfect" is a word that could be ascribed to many of the lines and moments in this book.It's a writer's book beyond its polished craft though. It's also an author showing us what's under the novel's hood. It's almost as if we're perched over her shoulder, watching her write draft after draft, rolling each up into a little ball and tossing it onto the floor (Yes, I know that doesn't happen anymore, but "hitting `Save As' and renaming each version" doesn't quite have the same feel) before trying again: "Hmm, I could have Ursula eschew university. No, she'll go into classical studies. No, better yet, modern languages. Maybe she ends up in Bletchley Park. Or, wait, what if she ends up at a table with Hitler. With a gun!"This is a book then that can be enjoyed on several levels, even if neither works on us in the usual fashion. Then again, its strengths are what one would expect of any particularly good book: vivid characters; lively, precise prose that can startle with its originality; attention to detail; a range of emotions. As for its (few) weaknesses: her abusive husband is not as fully formed as the other characters, feeling a bit too much like a creature of plot. But as he's given very little page time, it's a minor complaint. It's perhaps a little overly long; I admit to temporarily bogging down a little in the blitz scenes, as vibrant and wholly re-created as they are. I wouldn't cut much, maybe 30-40 pages in that section, and only very judiciously as they contain some of the most powerful moments in the book. What more surprising is how non-repetitive it feels, this novel based on a Groundhog's Day kind of premise, thought writ larger than the Bill Murray movie (also a great story--we should see more of these).So what does it all add up to, all these chances to relive a life? It would have been easy to take the Aesop's Fable way out, to have Ursula "learn something" from the accretion of experience, something big idea about life the author could pass on to the reader via Ursula's big epiphany at the end. So props to Atkinson for not going that route. Yes, Ursula sometimes remembers enough to avoid a horror or two, but it's at the subconscious level. Yes, there's some talk about cycles and time and reincarnation, mostly with a psychiatrist her concerned parents have her see for a while, but these are short-lived conversations and simply raise an issue rather than hammer anything home. Ursula doesn't learn anything in enough detail and substance to "get life right." But she does learn "You just have to get on with life . . . We only have one after all, we should try and do our best." I don't know what other lives Kate Atkinson might have lived, but based on this and her detective novels (highly recommended), she's doing her best with her novelist one.(this review originally appeared on fantasyliterature.com)

I came to this book indirectly. A bookshop opposite my bus stop had a sign in the window for its successor, A God In Ruins. That led me back here, with mixed feelings. While I'm (perhaps too) attracted to the "What If" genre, it's only occasionally done well and I feared that this would be nothing more than Ken Grimwood's "Replay" reheated. (It's not. Not even remotely. And that's not a reflection one way or the other on Replay, they're simply very different books.) In any case I gave it a chance and read the introductory chapters, one of which introduced the central character's parents. A couple of lines had me with my face in my hands thinking "Not the 'free spirited woman stifled by a boring, unimaginative man' thing again, because that NEVER gets old." And thankfully, it wasn't. Again, not even remotely. Once I got into the story proper I could barely stop until I'd devoured the entire thing.What this is, in fact, is probably one of the most finely crafted novels I've read, on many levels. I'm giving away nothing (that isn't on the dust jacket) by saying that it's the story of a woman (Ursula Todd) whose life keeps repeating from her birth in 1910 up to her death in... well, that varies. She has no direct recollection of her past lifecycles, up to a point. She has only instincts about the things that happened, some of which she can influence, some of which she can't. The path of her own life runs differently depending on events that happen or don't; sometimes the difference is radical, sometimes more subtle. Not all of these things are in her control, as other people also make different decisions along the way. None of us are complete masters of our own destiny, much as we would like to believe otherwise.I don't think we ever see one complete path of Ursula's life, and this restraint on the part of the author is one of the things that make it such a good piece of writing. It must have been tempting to work through the whole timeline each time and milk it for all it's worth. Instead we're just taken to key points in Ursula's life in each cycle. Sometimes briefly, sometimes in detail. We see the things that determine the current cycle's path, or the outcomes of those things. Sometimes differences that have already occurred are alluded to, sometimes they're assumed to have changed in the way they had in a previous cycle. And sometimes it's left to the reader's imagination. (And at one point Atkinson throws us a nicely crafted curve which tricks the reader, but I can't describe that without a spoiler. It's after the war, and you'll know it when you see it.Another example of this is with Ursula's parents. There's another entire story there, yet we're offered only glimpses into it. We know about certain events but we never get to find out what the context of those events was... much as Ursula herself doesn't. In real life you can never know everything about another person, no matter how close you are. Atkinson resists the temptation to prop the reader into the "God seat" and take them behind the scenes. Oddly this makes the read more rather than less gratifying. There are no neatly wrapped endings or explanations, no unquestionable truths. (Not even for Ursula's own life, much less those that her life crosses with.) The reader is therefore drawn into the story, to make of certain things what they will, never knowing for sure whether they were right about them. Again, much like life, really. Aside from which it's much harder to achieve certainty here, given the looping nature of the narrative. Did Ursula's mother have an affair in one of Ursula's lives but not another? Did she have an affair in none of them, and the hint that we were thrown in one cycle was simply an out of context distraction? More intriguingly, has Atkinson preserved material for another follow up book or two?Another thing that appeals about this is the characterisation. It would be hard to say that we know many of the characters intimately. They're sketches rather than detailed paintings, but again, that's pretty true to life. However they're generally consistent sketches, though with some discordant notes here and there. (Even in the little details; I could never imagine her sister Pamela smoking as she did in one cycle, for example (especially given her scientific leanings and her husband's description of autopsies of smokers), but it's not beyond the bounds of possibility especially given that in that cycle her mother did as well.) Yet these notes are not so much "completely out of character" as "this is another path this character might have gone down". Another example is when Ursula found out that her one time / some times boyfriend had acquired a taste for a particular sport in his later years despite disliking it when she knew him.We all change... and doubtless we would change in different ways in different circumstances. This, I think, is part of Atkinson's point.For me the key thing about the characters is that there is a diversity of them; likeable, unlikeable, difficult, sharing, selfish... without them devolving into mere caricatures. There is a certain sameness about how people are supposed to react to the characters - for example, everyone supposedly loving Teddy when I only felt somewhat indifferent to him and couldn't understand why he was the loveable one - but I think that was done mainly to avoid the need to get bogged down in minutiae. This, after all, is Ursula's story. Teddy has his own in the sequel, something that I have no doubt Atkinson had in mind as she was writing this one.Finally the storytelling. In a couple of instances I could see clearly where things would lead, and yet the writing, the characters and the story itself kept me moving along with it to discover the specifics. Your mileage may vary, but I for one wasn't disappointed.There is one area where it squibs a little, but unfortunately I can't say very much about that without introducing huge spoilers. In the afterword Atkinson refers to one of her motivations in writing the book, which is one of history's "What Ifs". And yet that very thing is what is ultimately glossed over. Suppose that your life was to be dedicated to nudging history in a different direction? First, "why you?" given that (in this case) someone born 5 years earlier and elsewhere in the world would be much better at giving it that nudge? Second, can you even make a difference to the broad sweep of history, as opposed to the lives of a few individuals? (Michael Crichton's "Timeline" had an interesting discussion on this. The book, not the movie. Gods no, not the movie, please.) Third, if you do change it, how can you be sure that you are changing it for the better rather than the worse? Fourth, even if you do change it for the better is that what your life then becomes; an endless loop of going back and doing the same sequence of things over and over again, for if so, what's the point? Stephen King's 11/22/63 spent chapters on some of these issues (and King is hardly a terse writer), yet they remain relatively unexamined in "Life After Life".But in the overall scheme of things that's a minor niggle in a book as good as this one. When it comes to the difference between words and deeds, my next deed after posting this review will be to buy its sequel.

Book came as described. No damage. I feel reviewing the content of the book is irrelevant. Wasn't my cup of tea personally. But, as a product, I got what I ordered.

Lo elegí porque ya había leído otro libro de la autora que me gustó mucho. Este me ha gustado incluso más. Premisa muy original. Lo he disfrutado tanto que me dio pena que se acabara.

ストーリーは風変わり。死んだらBad End となり、もう一度チャレンジ。最後には、作者は何が伝えたのかったのかしらが、わからなくなりました。

Muito legal e divertido esse livro que conta a história de uma moça nascida na Inglaterra, que passa por duas guerras mundiais, e tem a oportunidade de volrtar e viver a sua vida de novo até acertar.

Having first read Atkinson's "A God in Ruins', I was tempted to take up the preceding volume, "Life After Life" & I found her at her absolute best, playing with the lives of the Todd family.While in "A God in Ruins ", it was Ted ,a male, the central protagonist, it is Ursulla, his elder sister the heroine of this enthralling book.Atkinson's superb skills as an author is on full display while presenting the various scenarios her characters can undergo alternately with varying consequences & reactions from the readers.For example, Ursulla suffers death in a whole range of ways , from child birth, drowning, suicide, murder etc.While some readers can be put off by this kind of jugglery & uncertainty, I found it exciting that the author is willing to test the limits of our ' willing suspension of disbelief'. She is able to pull off such literary tricks with elan because of her basic strengths as a writer. Her female characters such as Izzie, Sylvie & Pamela are strongly drawn evoking reader empathy. Even the family dogs in an Atkinson novel have character. She is also great in creating the right atmosphere ( you will be dazzled by her ghoulish descriptions of the London Blitz ) As she claims in her Notes after the text, she has indeed succeeded in bringing out the 'Englishness' of her characters ('one does as one must & then has tea' ).This audacious novel drives home beautifully a central philosophical theme , viz,the capricious nature of Fate, which the Todd family psychologist puts across as 'amor fati' (love of fate ).