Freedom : A heavily freighted title for a heavy book--Jonathan Franzen's new oeuvre. I finished reading it this week as I was horizontal with a bad cold. Nothing like a small virus for one's literary checklist...
Franzen was one of the speakers during the only college reunion I'll ever attend (40th fyi). There were so many compelling events at the University of Rochester weekend that attendance at his reading was modest. But satisfying. He read, he signed, he smiled his handsome smile as he handed The Discomfort Zone back to me. I was impressed. I also liked his glasses.
Freedom was a few years in the writing, following up on some smaller work and his excellent The Corrections. The critics were relieved when Freedom was finally published: kudos were showered, prizes were awarded. And of course I had to read it.
We Americans are forever awaiting the coming of The Great American Novel.
But first, a quick reminder of the UK autumn 2010: they had to recall 80,000 Freedoms because the publisher had mistakenly used a previous electronic version. Oops.
Then at a fancy reading-cum-launch in early October 2010, a certain James Fletcher--having wandered in and imbibed fair quantities of champagne--ran up to the podium, snatched off Franzen's glasses and left a ransom note for $100,000 or pounds or whatever. The thief was pursued by police in helicopters and on foot until they found him soaked from wading through a lake in a London park, eyeglasses intact. It hadn't been staged, it was a happening that did no harm to the perplexed author. The press loved it, and JF got his specs back.
