Christopher Schroeder

Tag: books

  • Things That Should Be Said

    Things That Should Be Said

    I was more excited about getting to read Elizabeth Strout’s latest novel The Things We Never Say than I am about having read it.

    I tend to like Strout’s novels more than I expect, so I thought that this one, and especially its fifty-seven-year-old high school history teacher protagonist named Artie, would be even better. Artie, like so many of us, is beset by a loneliness that as its epigraph attests comes from his alienation in the midst of others.

    Artie and his wife of many years Evie are struggling with the emotional aftermath of their son Rob’s car crash that killed his girlfriend. Artie discovers that his initial response, which is suicide, isn’t as appealing after he falls into the water while stepping into his sailboat, and that he actually has a desire to live, which he spends the rest of the novel trying to do.

    Other critics praise have praised this novel for many reasons, including this memorable protagonist and its cast of characters and its spare yet sharp style.

    I also admired it for its political and personal timeliness. Loneliness if social media are any indication besets the best of us, and the Trump administration antics can alienate all of us, and in that offer us some common ground.

    I additionally appreciated the intersection of character and plot, and especially Artie’s connection with his son Rob, whose circumstances push them closer and later pull them apart. One contributing cause is Evie’s secret that is exposed yet never confronted, which sadly seems so familiar.

    I could recognize the potential in other choices, such as a shifting POV that promises an unprovided intimacy. That and others reinforce the loneliness theme, and combine for a rhetorically withheld catharsis that cleverly compelled me to keep reading and unfortunately was ultimately unsatisfying.

    This condition can be seen in Artie, whose experiences that he both can and cannot change illustrate the excruciating effect of loneliness around others. His motivation however is never quite clear.

    Is Artie driven by his relative poor childhood or his current political outrage or even a righteous indignation over political and personal circumstances combined with an unavoidable awareness of his relative privilege? The answer can never be found in the accumulation of too many tragedies, one after another until the end.

    I respect Strout’s effort, and her commitment to and confidence in this project. I just believe that the book would have been better served with at least another draft.

    The loss is all that this book could but doesn’t say, which is even more lamentable in light of its final paragraphs and our current circumstances.

  • Frenemies and Families

    Frenemies and Families

    Among Friends by Hal Ebbott is a flawed yet perhaps fascinating novel ostensibly about college friends Emerson and Amos.

    Emerson, who introduces Amos to his friend Claire, appears when Amos needs someone, which cements their connection. This connection eventually includes Claire, whom Amos marries, and Emerson’s wife Retsy as well as their respective daughters Anna and Sophie.

    The point of view shifts throughout the story, and attempts to establish some sympathy with all of the central characters, but at its center as the title suggests is the connection among the four of them, or at least Emerson, Amos, and Claire. These three are balanced by Retsy, who also counterbalances the pressure added by Claire to the friendship between Amos and Emerson.

    Claire, whose history with Emerson at times makes Amos uneasy, displays competing and confusing loyalties throughout the story. Emerson, who assumes that other discuss and even mock him, has an often hidden cruelty that is more revealed than developed.

    This cruelty becomes clear to Amos at the end, and catalyzes his change, which is the final focus of the plot and seems to make the novel in the end his story. For most of it, Amos exhibits a relatively uninteresting uncertainty and insecurity, which makes his eventual courage either more moving or less plausible.

    This courage comes from nowhere except his empathy for his daughter Anna, and specifically his ability to put her needs ahead of his own. As a result, Amos transforms what until that point had been embarrassing, and has been used against him, which almost redeems his emotional suffering and generates an unexpected strength.

    The problem with such an interpretation is the ending, which is too ambiguous and perhaps too rushed. Amos acts independently at the risk of his marriage, and also agrees to Claire’s proposed remedy, which is a family vacation for the three of them that he believes might salvage their marriage.

    Amos and Claire however consult Retsy and Emerson for a recommendation even as they intend once there to follow Anna’s direction. That could refer to her preferences for excursions, which is plausible, but doesn’t rule out an invitation to Emerson, Retsy, and Sophie to join them.

    This second possibility could portend reconciliation and forgiveness, which seems unrealistic or at the very least an awful possibility. I cannot comment on the proper protocol for such situation — I’m being deliberately vague to avoid revealing too much — and yet am horrified by the prospect of returning to regular interactions among them.

    Such an outcome only seems possible, and given the rest of the plot somewhat implausible. If intentional, the novel asks questions about whether we should judge others by their worst moments and if some actions permanently destroy long relationships, in which case the conclusion needs more care, and craft, if only to convince readers that they’re deliberately agitated.

    This more generous interpretation would suggest that this story starts as a slow burn only to burst however briefly into a flame, which would be reason enough to read it.

  • A Bigger Bite

    The recent of history of Apple by tech and science writer David Pogue is a useful addition to accounts of this company that initially seemed unremarkable, later seemed doomed, and yet has transformed human experience, and continues to do so.

    Pogue conducted 150 interviews for this coherent, and credible, account of what could be the most influential of the MAGNA (FAANG) companies. This review also clarifies misunderstandings and adds insights for a more comprehensive of the first US company with a $1 trillion valuation (2018), which rose to $4 trillion last fall.

    Pogue’s seeming exhaustive account is deeply detailed, and its lavish production quality reflects the Apple aesthetic. Glossy pages feature appealing layouts with big blocks of texts and frequent sidebars, which sometimes seem gossipy and occasionally disruptive.

    Many regard this extensively sourced book as serious journalism that will appeal to tech and business readers. Apple fans I believe will appreciate the deluge of information, and anyone whose impressions begin with the first iPhone (2007) or even the “Think different” campaigns (1997-2002) will be able to add to their understanding of this global company.

    An obvious limitation, which applies to most print products, is that it is relative static, which means that it is already outdated. Its release for example was soon followed by the announcement of the current Apple CEO Tim Cook’s imminent retirement and its next CEO John Ternus, whose hardware background could alter the trajectory of this company.

    A bigger problem in my opinion is the way it most avoids larger contexts that would situate Apple in relation to other Big Tech companies or even internet history. These contexts could consider the effects of Apple products on users for example or cultural norms.

    This issue can be illustrated in the expansion of corporate control over hardware and software with iTunes (2003), the App Store (2008), and iCloud (2011), which included streaming services in Apple Music (2015) and original content with Apple TV+ (2019), and which were bundled as Apple One (2020). Apple in doing so isn’t different from other Big Tech companies, and yet by combining hardware, software, platforms (iMessage, e.g., or FaceTime), and services is more effective and I believe more dangerous.

    I appreciate the account of this company from its founding by Steve Jobs, Steve Wozniak, and Ronald Wayne in 1976 and its later struggle with Microsoft over market share and even itself over product clarity. At the same time, I expected more, such as the way it locks users into its products and exploits network effects that can harm not just the internet as others (e.g., Doctorow 2025) suggest but also I would add users, culture, and society.

    That however would be a different book, and might require a different author. The question of whether long-form journalists who offer histories have the same obligations as historians is a debate for a different forum and different day.