jaclynday's review
4.0
I’ve never read Bialosky before, but I wasn’t surprised to read about her poetry background after finishing The Prize. The lyrical book is really wonderful examination of art and marriage and how we can lose or find ourselves in both things (maybe at once). Edward’s character development is progressive, if a little slow, and it’s the secondary characters–especially Edward’s star artist Agnes–who really get to shine. Their inner lives are merely hinted at, but we get enough clues to guess at most of the angles. Bialosky’s descriptions are vivid, especially of the women in the book. Edward fades into every man in a suit on the train, while Agnes, for example, comes alive with uncontrollable red hair, a diminutive figure, haunting eyes. The book has the musical, fluid, sing-song quality of poetry, carrying us through Edward’s life with an eye like his–more suited for art than the real world. But for this kind of book, it works.
monasterymonochrome's review
2.0
I received this book through a First Reads giveaway. Honestly, that was probably the only reason I finished it, apart from my naive hope that it might get more interesting or pick up speed as it went along.
The plot is wafer-thin: the protagonist, Edward Darby, cheats on his wife, deals with a bunch of vague and horrifically dull art drama, and has an existential whine-fest every few pages despite the fact that his life is pretty good apart from the problems he keeps creating for himself (see aforementioned infidelity). Now, I'm willing to forgive lack of plot if the characters are actually interesting, but these ones aren't.
Edward has to be one of the most boring protagonists I've ever come across. He's a black hole of personality about whom I could never bring myself to care and who sucked the life out of the few supporting characters who showed a glimmer of promise. There were two or three minor female characters, specifically, who seemed about a million times more interesting, so I'm not sure why the book was written wholly from his perspective and not one of theirs or, at the very least, in alternating perspectives. For example, the issue of Agnes' and Nate's volatile relationship and perpetual power struggle was infinitely more compelling as a concept, yet it isn't even featured prominently enough to be considered a proper sub-plot.
As if the dearth of plot and memorable characters wasn't enough, there are also pacing issues. Scenes like Edward going to visit his mother in a nursing home or having an appointment with his therapist drag on for ages, while potentially more important and engaging scenes go by in a flash. The titular prize isn't even brought up until the book's final 30-40 pages, and its outcome and subsequent impact on the characters' lives is rushed through at breakneck speed and frankly underwhelming. It doesn't help that it gets overshadowed by a weirdly shoehorned-in mini-sub-plot dealing with a mundane bit of drama regarding Edward's deceased father.
I didn't really get the point of it all. What is the reader meant to take away in the end? Maybe I would have appreciated it more if I were closer in age and experience to the characters, but I doubt that's the issue, since I've enjoyed similar books before. It is possible to make the art world (and the mid-life crises of its inhabitants) interesting, as proven by authors like [a:Siri Hustvedt|40851|Siri Hustvedt|https://d.gr-assets.com/authors/1262566327p2/40851.jpg], who you'd probably be better off reading instead. A book like [b:What I Loved|125502|What I Loved|Siri Hustvedt|https://d.gr-assets.com/books/1347721158s/125502.jpg|1309881] or [b:The Blazing World|18143974|The Blazing World|Siri Hustvedt|https://d.gr-assets.com/books/1418103958s/18143974.jpg|25491297] runs circles around this one any day.
The plot is wafer-thin: the protagonist, Edward Darby, cheats on his wife, deals with a bunch of vague and horrifically dull art drama, and has an existential whine-fest every few pages despite the fact that his life is pretty good apart from the problems he keeps creating for himself (see aforementioned infidelity). Now, I'm willing to forgive lack of plot if the characters are actually interesting, but these ones aren't.
Edward has to be one of the most boring protagonists I've ever come across. He's a black hole of personality about whom I could never bring myself to care and who sucked the life out of the few supporting characters who showed a glimmer of promise. There were two or three minor female characters, specifically, who seemed about a million times more interesting, so I'm not sure why the book was written wholly from his perspective and not one of theirs or, at the very least, in alternating perspectives. For example, the issue of Agnes' and Nate's volatile relationship and perpetual power struggle was infinitely more compelling as a concept, yet it isn't even featured prominently enough to be considered a proper sub-plot.
As if the dearth of plot and memorable characters wasn't enough, there are also pacing issues. Scenes like Edward going to visit his mother in a nursing home or having an appointment with his therapist drag on for ages, while potentially more important and engaging scenes go by in a flash. The titular prize isn't even brought up until the book's final 30-40 pages, and its outcome and subsequent impact on the characters' lives is rushed through at breakneck speed and frankly underwhelming. It doesn't help that it gets overshadowed by a weirdly shoehorned-in mini-sub-plot dealing with a mundane bit of drama regarding Edward's deceased father.
I didn't really get the point of it all. What is the reader meant to take away in the end? Maybe I would have appreciated it more if I were closer in age and experience to the characters, but I doubt that's the issue, since I've enjoyed similar books before. It is possible to make the art world (and the mid-life crises of its inhabitants) interesting, as proven by authors like [a:Siri Hustvedt|40851|Siri Hustvedt|https://d.gr-assets.com/authors/1262566327p2/40851.jpg], who you'd probably be better off reading instead. A book like [b:What I Loved|125502|What I Loved|Siri Hustvedt|https://d.gr-assets.com/books/1347721158s/125502.jpg|1309881] or [b:The Blazing World|18143974|The Blazing World|Siri Hustvedt|https://d.gr-assets.com/books/1418103958s/18143974.jpg|25491297] runs circles around this one any day.
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