Ratings52
Average rating3.8
This book was difficult to read because of the style in which it was written. Only two people in the large cast of characters are given anything resembling proper names: Milkman, a paramilitary man who is stalking the narrator (who is referred to as middle sister), and Somebody McSomebody, a borderline stalker. Everyone else is referred to by their relationship to middle sister or their place in the community. So you have characters like third brother in law, the man who doesn't love anybody (also known as real milkman, because he is in fact a milkman, unlike Milkman of the book's title), and the issues women, a group of feminists. Places are also named in this style at least part of the time, and certain activities like reading while walking, which middle sister does so that she doesn't have to be mentally present for the stress of living in her repressive society.
Although the city and the country are not named, it's clear that the story is set in 1970's Northern Ireland in the midst of the Troubles. The political situation dominates life to the extent that people's imaginations are stunted—anything the least bit out of the ordinary is either denied or looked on with suspicion. The paramilitary “renouncers” run middle sister's part of the city and hold kangaroo courts to punish anyone who deviates from the approved way of conducting their life. Middle sister's ways of coping with this include reading while walking (19th century or older literature only), running by herself or with third brother in law, and an ambivalent relationship with maybe boyfriend. When Milkman appears on the scene, obviously interested in her, her coping strategies are not adequate protection.
The style made it hard to get wrapped up in this book, but I eventually got comfortable and began to enjoy it. One of the things I admired was how beautifully the discomfort of being the object of unwanted attention was evoked. Middle sister feels she can't complain about or object to Milkman's attentions because nothing physical has happened and therefore she would be accused of complaining about nothing. But she's in a double bind, because even though nothing physical has happened, townspeople have noticed the meeting between Milkman and middle sister and blown it up into a rumor and then full fledged gossip that they are having an affair.
I also realized about halfway through the novel that the odd writing style had the effect for me of making this society seem more removed from familiar cultures than it would have if it had been explicitly set in Northern Ireland and people had proper names and were described in every day language. I read this as a dystopian novel for much of the time because of that, which I think is interesting.
Overall, I liked this book a lot, but found the style to be a significant barrier for at least half of it until I settled in.
From the first page I was filled with rage and fear and contempt. Then about halfway through things started shifting, there were some unexpected turns, I was still afraid but the rage was less and the contempt was near gone. By the last page I was addicted, swooning, riding that what-an-awesome-book high.
Denne boken er nok mye bedre enn ratingen jeg gir den, men stilen og storyen krever nok at du har et forhold til Nord-Irland på 70-tallet, eller en spesiell interesse for litterære stilarter. Dette er litt Tante Ulrikkes vei på nord-irsk. Cotext is king, er det ikke det de sier?
I have no qualms admitting that most of my reading is via audio. Long walks , commutes, makes it an ideal format to absorb a good story. The form of distribution of the tale (eye vs ear) I usually feel is agnostic to the tale itself but every now and then it is important. In the case of Scalzi's Head On series it is fundamental in driving one of the main sub plots (Is the protagonist male or female?) But in other cases a good narrator can help or hinder a good/bad book. In The Milkman's case I am so happy I listened to it. It is now a cliche' to talk about Irish lyricism in writing but listening to Milkman just reinforces such beliefs in rhythm of repetition, with slight modification at each iteration, in the mixture of love and revulsion to a Belfast (or Derry I'm not that good) accent vs a South of the Border accent. The setting of the Troubles is a fascinating time for me which I have started to learn more about through Adrian McKinty Sean Duffy's series [b:The Cold Cold Ground 13008754 The Cold Cold Ground (Detective Sean Duffy, #1) Adrian McKinty https://images.gr-assets.com/books/1355027843s/13008754.jpg 18170309]. The lack of proper nouns works well especially when I noticed that the only name mentioned is that of the family dog. The story, I think, takes second fiddle to the historical context of the tale, and how, tribalism can cause such misery in people's lives.
Read this in an effort to expand my horizons to include more lit fic. I was blown away by the amount of levels this book functions on. The lack of proper nouns is a great tool for highlighting the gray space the narrator occupies in her relationships and in her homeland. The setting of 1970s Northern Ireland is interesting enough without using it to explore the pressures of conformity, especially those placed on women. The surreal, dreamy-journalistic quality to the writing adds to the intentional vagueness that permeates the whole novel. It's a challenging read, one that definitely made me feel like I was working to understand, but like a good workout, I feel really good having completed it.
Milkman by Anna Burns won the Man Booker Prize a couple of years ago and it's no surprise. It's an impressive achievement of voice and, at the same time, of social commentary. I've seen complaints about its lack of a plot, and it's true that the central conflict could probably have been presented and resolved in a short story, but there is so much more to admire here than just the plot. The narrator is a young woman who has a boyfriend (or a “maybe-boyfriend”) but she is also being stalked by a “Renouncer”—a member of the IRA, presumably, opposed to the British occupation of Northern Ireland. Instantly, rumors abound that she is having an affair with the Renouncer, and no one will believe her denials. There are many wonderful side-plots as well, including her relationships with her boyfriend and her mother, also with her siblings, and with others in the community. I listened to the beautiful audiobook of this novel, which helped me get through it, but I also borrowed a copy from the library so I could also read some of it on the page. I'm not sure I would have liked it as much if I had only read it, because the pages are dense with type—long paragraphs, no dialogue breaks, syntax that on the page seems to go nowhere. But on the whole, I liked it very much.
So I gave this a fair go, almost half way through is pretty good going. But it is still impenetrable. I just can't bring myself to wade through the dense sludge to find the story anymore. It defeated me 😕 DNF @ 46%
A dense, but rewarding read. The narrator is an unnamed young woman living in an unnamed city in - we assume - Northern Ireland at the height of its political strife. She escapes in literature, burying her nose (literally, as she indulges in “reading while walking”) in lit classics. Her determined attempt to live life as quietly as possible, however, fails when “Milkman”, the nickname given to a feared, influential, middle-aged (and married) “renouncer”, sets his sights on her. The narrator is (linguistically) very clever, and often amusing, though in emotional pain. The hidden rules that govern her society, one of renouncers and informers, with very little allowed for political neutrality, defines what is normal. Conformity, even when it results in personal anguish and misery, is demanded (and “reading while walking” is frowned upon). Women face additional restrictions, with women's rights decried (a band of “feminists” are regarded as strange and dangerous, though allowed to continue their meetings in the end). Such precarious living, especially for those who choose to be (at least in action) politically neutral. If the premise intrigues you (as it did me, though the synopsis at the back of the book does not do the story full justice), and you're looking for a different kind of read, I highly recommend this book. “...you do that reading-while-walking and you look nearly-blank and you give nothing which is too little and so they won't let go and move on to the next person....”Dense ==> Both in content and form. The paragraphs are very long, often more than a page, and chapter breaks are few and far in between. This is not a book to read when the mind is tired, which is why I took much longer than expected to complete this book.
ok this one was a bit tricky for me— overall, i think it was good/ok. there are long tangents throughout, which can feel unnecessary, but then absolutely amazing. there were times where what i was reading felt excessive, and i wondered whether or not things could've been left out altogether. i also felt like there was SO much going on the entire time.
A cautionary tale of a people so tied down with complex politics and social conventions, that rumors become so oppressing that no truth can break them, should one even have the strength left to fend them off.
Frustrating at times, because of it's very meandering nature, but also very moving and brilliant at times, with its stream of consciousness and its lists and repetitions. It definitely could have been a bit tighter though.
I loved all the more cheerful side characters, with their names like wee sisters, third brother in law, maybe-boyfriend. And I am very happy the book didn't end where it almost ended. That would have been too depressing.
I started this novel in print, and found it to be tough going. Several weeks later I tried again as an audiobook, and found this to be the way to go. The reader is fantastic, and brings to life the inner dialogue of our unnamed narrator in a way I wasn't able to achieve with the print version. Even so, this is a challenging read - so bleak as to almost feel dystopian, but set in a very real, not-so-distant past. I found the reading of this to be much like the reading of Virginia Woolfe - if I can find the rhythm, the novel will flow. I'm not surprised this is a divisive novel - I can't say I enjoyed it, but I do find myself still thinking about it several weeks after I've finished.
I have pages and pages of notes on this novel. It was not as difficult to read as some people had warned me-I had been scared by the amount of readers giving up. Perhaps because I read it on the Kindle, the format and super long sentences did not bother me. This is also not the first time I've read a story or book in which the characters do not have names, it didn't bother me at all.
I found myself highlighting passages. I loved that she called outcasts people “beyond the pale”.
I think the whole story is an experiment in groupthink and how very dangerous it is. I still don't understand why the main character never considered moving.
I'm curious to see if the story sticks with me. There is A LOT going on here, so much to think about. It would be perfect for a book club discussion. That said, there is not one stone left unturned in the story and all of the studying of everything does get repetitive after awhile.
Maitomies oli yllättäjä, kustantajaa myöten – mistä lähtien Docendo on romaaneja julkaissut? Mutta hyvä että julkaisi ja kas kun tätä ei jo viime vuonna tehty suomeksi, onhan tässä palkintoa niskassa Bookerin ja parin muunkin verran.
Tapahtumat sijoittuvat nimettömään ympäristöön, mutta kovin paljon ei tarvitse nimettömyyden verhoa raottaa, jotta ne saa sijoitettua 1970-luvun Pohjois-Irlantiin. Kirjan kertoja on 18-vuotias nuori nainen katolisella puolella. Hän saa kiusakseen maitomiehen, joka on kaiketi melko korkea-arvoinen irtautuja, ehkä, ja yrittää selvästi uida liiveihin varsin ahdistavalla ja alistavalla tavalla.
Yhteisö ympärillä rakastaa juoruilua ja salaisuuksia, joten siinä vaiheessa kun kertoja on kohdannut maitomiehen pari kertaa, eikä mitään ole tapahtunut, kaikille on jo ilmiselvää, että kertoja ja maitomies ovat pari ja ovat jo tehneet vaikka mitä sopimatonta joka paikassa. Kertojan äitikin kauhistelee huolissaan, eikä ota kuuleviin korviinsa tyttärensä yrityksiä kertoa totuutta.
Juoruilun, kuulopuheiden, vaikenemisen, ilmiantajien, vasikoiden ja kaiken muun sekamelska luo kirjalle kiehtovat puitteet. Asetelma istuu Pohjois-Irlantiin, mutta ei rajoitu sinne. Maitomies kuvaa poliittisten ja uskonnollisten identiteettien sekoittumista, lojaliteettia aatteelle ja sitä, miten se tekee tuhoaa inhimillisyydelle. Myös naisten ja miesten väliset suhteet ja valta-asetelmat joutuvat tarkastelun alle: katolisissa puitteissa naisen asema on ankea, mutta on ilo huomata, mikä valta naisilla silloin on, kun he joukolla johonkin asiaan tarttuvat.
Kirjan henkilöt ovat pääasiassa nimettömiä ja pääasiassa keskinäisiä suhteita: äiti, keskimmäinen tytär, ensimmäinen sisko, kolmas lanko ja niin edelleen. Se sekoittaa lukiessa yllättävän vähän ja luo osaltaan jotain yleismaailmallisuuden tuntua tarinaan. Helpompi tätä oli seurata kuin Erpenbeckin Päivien loppua.
Maitomies on hieno, kiinnostava kirja, ja vaikka tämä ei niin hauska olekaan kuin Trevor Noahin Laiton lapsi, kirja oli tavallaan paljon aika synkkää aihepiiriään kevyempi ja hauskempi kirja – Burns esittää absurdit tapahtumat siinä huvittavassa valossa, jonka ne ansaitsevat.
I am really stuck on this review. I don't think I have ever been so on the fence with a rating as much as for this book. I have a real soft spot for Ireland, the Irish and Irish authors. I love the language and the phrases, I love the accent. This book contained good things, and things that detracted for me.
There is no plot to be learned from this review, and I have resisted quotes (other than a few words), mainly because the good ones are long (ie laziness).
So in the positives for Milkman, I loved that Ma lowered herself into her chair, then highered herself out of it; that everyone on the outer was beyond the pale; that Middle sister said “Ach,” which depending on the context, can mean anything at all (this is true): I love the oddness of Irish language and phrasing, it is is nice to find it in written form.
I also enjoyed the nonsense of the names - maybe-boyfriend, third brother-in-law, tablets girl's sister, the wee sisters, longest friend... also the traditional women, the women with the issues, and the pious women.
I even enjoyed (some) of the conversational diversions - these are not uncommon in Ireland, where a conversation moves sideways faster than it moves forward. It is very endearing, and I miss that from the four years I lived in Dublin. Yes, this book is set in the north, but these are common Irish traits, both the odd phrasing and the odd conversational circles.
Which leads me to the negatives - and some mitigating factors.
I am not a fan of very long chapters; I am not a fan of very long paragraphs. This book consists of both. There is perhaps justification in this book for both - given the stream of consciousness form - where it reinforces the relentlessness of the internal thoughts of middle sister. I did also struggle with some of the story diversions, particularly in the first half of the book where there wasn't the continuity. That said, I either adjusted to it for the second half, or the diversions became more relevant to the plot, because this was much less of an issue in the second half.
There was also the rambling and circling around, rehashing and changing of opinion - this was obviously purposeful, and another way the author illustrated the emotional pressure and internal analysis that middle sister was dealing with - but man, that was hard to keep reading when it interrupted the flow of the already slow narrative!
So I can see why people would give this up 50 or even 150 pages into it, but I think it is worth persisting with (on balance). There is little doubt that for me this was an exhausting read.
There is a bleakness, and a reality in this book. It says on the blurb on the back cover that in this [...] city, to be interesting is dangerous. To be anything out of the ordinary, to be flamboyant, to stand out, to be different. To be stuck between religion and politics, where each side for the most part have irreconcilable differences of opinion. This must be an unbelievably difficult place to be for anyone, but especially an 18 year old. The claustrophobia, the constant threat of violence, continually being under surveillance. The non-use of names in this book seems to reflect all the above - anonymity and being unidentified can only be a good thing. All the families are touched by the violence, the kangaroo courts, the oppression.
So there we go, and that really leaves me only to apply my middle-of-the-road, fence-sitting three stars to this review. It also continues my very inconsistent relationship with Man Booker prize winners!