First Put Down of the Year
The Egyptologist
by Arthur Phillips
(Random House, 2005)
I made it to May without abandoning a book. Odd timing. It's been almost a year to the day since my last abandoned book -- Rushdie's The Moor's Last Sigh. Unlike with Rushdie, I really hated to put The Egyptologist aside. I kept urging myself forward, but the dread was so overwhelming whenever I picked it up, that I had to admit, it was over.
Post Mortum: I remember picking by The Egyptologist at Kepler's in 2005 and telling my husband, "Hey, I knew an Egyptologist!" He gave me that look. "No, really." The husband of my cubicle-buddy back in the 1980's (yes, they had cubicle's way back then) was studying at Univ. of MD. to be an Egyptologist." When my cubicle-buddy told me that I asked, "He studies Egypt?" "Ancient Egypt," she replied. "Like hieroglyphics and stuff?" "Yup." "Will he go on a dig?" She looked pained at that question. I didn't push.
I'm a great fan of books like The Egyptologist , such as the works of Andrea Barrett and AS Byatt -- that mixture of science, discovery, mystery, and especially the intricate narrative voices that bring you back to those times. The Egypotologist captures none of that historical narrative voice. The mystery set up in the early pages is soon squandered on backstory. And the thinly-veiled and poorly-executed guise of epistolary narration fails miserably. (See The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Society for a contemporary book that gets that form right). I liked (not loved) Phillip's Prague and will continue onward to read Angelica and The Song is You. I've not given up on Philipps as thoroughly as I have Rushdie. Afterall, it was only his second book and everyone's allowed a dud now and then.
(I do still wonder if that U of MD Egyptology major ever managed to get to Egypt for a real dig. I hope so. Sometimes, you gotta leave the grumpy wife and chase your dreams! )