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A review by clicheanna
A Thousand Acres by Jane Smiley
4.0
I wanted to give this book a review based on its existence by itself, rather than the quality of a Shakespeare retelling. I adored how the author captured feelings of anxiety and jealousy in imagery that only makes sense inside the narrator’s head — Ginny’s metaphors and analogies at first seemed a little too abstract, but the more you get to understand her, the more her hierarchy of emotional control parallels her descriptions.
Similarly, what Ginny focuses on and retains as important is not intuitive, but fit perfectly as the extent of her unreliability. The author was wonderful at staging this book completely inside a character’s head, rather than trying to relay an objective circumstance. Ginny’s mental state unravels at the same pace as the story’s intricacies.
However, as a retelling of King Lear, the ending left me a little unsatisfied. The author establishes the story like King Lear right off the bat — the sisters all have names with the same starting letter, Larry instead of Lear, a farm instead of a kingdom, two brothers intertwined with the family. I didn’t expect as many characters to die, but ultimately the point of King Lear is the senseless tragedy of the ending. A Thousand Acres does not feel like a tragedy. It feels like a coming-of-age, a story of reestablishing your future. Ginny is left with a bittersweet life for the audience to evaluate, instead of facing consequences for, I mean, anything. The development of King Lear is also critical — from senility to madness to clarity — but Larry is never portrayed as more than objectively bad. Sure, the other characters mention he’s not a bad guy, but do you ever believe it after everything Ginny and Rose experience? It’s certainly intriguing — what does the rest of the town see in Larry that Ginny doesn’t mention — but never given a chance to be considered. I liked A Thousand Acres as its own story, not as a Shakespearean novel.
Similarly, what Ginny focuses on and retains as important is not intuitive, but fit perfectly as the extent of her unreliability. The author was wonderful at staging this book completely inside a character’s head, rather than trying to relay an objective circumstance. Ginny’s mental state unravels at the same pace as the story’s intricacies.
However, as a retelling of King Lear, the ending left me a little unsatisfied. The author establishes the story like King Lear right off the bat — the sisters all have names with the same starting letter, Larry instead of Lear, a farm instead of a kingdom, two brothers intertwined with the family. I didn’t expect as many characters to die, but ultimately the point of King Lear is the senseless tragedy of the ending. A Thousand Acres does not feel like a tragedy. It feels like a coming-of-age, a story of reestablishing your future. Ginny is left with a bittersweet life for the audience to evaluate, instead of facing consequences for, I mean, anything. The development of King Lear is also critical — from senility to madness to clarity — but Larry is never portrayed as more than objectively bad. Sure, the other characters mention he’s not a bad guy, but do you ever believe it after everything Ginny and Rose experience? It’s certainly intriguing — what does the rest of the town see in Larry that Ginny doesn’t mention — but never given a chance to be considered. I liked A Thousand Acres as its own story, not as a Shakespearean novel.