Siri Hustvedt is obvious a very careful writer, and very aware of voice and effect in her writing; The Summer Without Men is not only the first
of her novels that I've read to be written from the perspective of a
female protagonist (cf What I Loved and
The Sorrows of an American) (*), but it's a novel that is overtly preoccupied with femaleness and female experience); taking all of those together, it's interesting that this is also the first of hers that I've read to occasionally strike a false note in its presentation of character and experience.
That said, I doubt there's any particular psychological or even gendered element to the presence of what are, after all, only occasional lapses in what is generally a very fluently written, engaging work, when compared to the near-perfection of those two earlier novels. More likely, they come about because The Summer Without Men sees Hustvedt stretching herself, exploring a looser, lighter style, more playful and with more flashes of humour, and a less overwhelmingly cerebral, emotionally controlled (though still extremely analytical, sensitive, erudite, etc) narrative voice. And while it hasn't struck the same resonances for me, it's still very good - thoughtful, wry, insightful.
That said, I doubt there's any particular psychological or even gendered element to the presence of what are, after all, only occasional lapses in what is generally a very fluently written, engaging work, when compared to the near-perfection of those two earlier novels. More likely, they come about because The Summer Without Men sees Hustvedt stretching herself, exploring a looser, lighter style, more playful and with more flashes of humour, and a less overwhelmingly cerebral, emotionally controlled (though still extremely analytical, sensitive, erudite, etc) narrative voice. And while it hasn't struck the same resonances for me, it's still very good - thoughtful, wry, insightful.
