![]() ![]() Already, without realising, we are taking sides. Franklin seems duller, more measured, limited by his desire for a domestic life with picket fence and clapperboard dog. Eva is independent, interesting, someone we might like to know. The tone is chatty, intimate, a dialogue between a woman and her, we assume, estranged husband. The story is told as a series of letters from Eva Khatchadourian, Kevin's mother, to his father, Franklin. Most of all, it's about love and the failure of love, about the black lines we paint around our own silhouettes. But poke beneath the surface, and immediately it's clear that "Kevin" is not about that one singular act – or, rather, not only about that Thursday – but actually an immensely complex and subtle layered novel about storytelling and lies, about blame and free will, about the choices we make. The story of a teenage boy who, Columbine style, goes on a rampage, slaughtering classmates, teachers, others. It was published in 2005 and won the Orange Prize for Fiction that year. ![]() At first glance, it's an unlikely book to have achieved such acclaim and so quickly. ![]()
0 Comments
Leave a Reply. |