by Ann M. Colford & r & Moral Disorder by Margret Atwood & r & & r & & lt;span class= "dropcap " & M & lt;/span & argaret Atwood mines the depths of childhood better than any other writer I know. Her novel Cat's Eye gave a penetrating study of the society of girls and the isolation and cruelty that can come from being just a bit different than the crowd. In Moral Disorder, she follows one character through the stages of life -- from childhood and adolescence to a troubled relationship in her adult years, and then to caring for aging parents -- through a collection of interconnected short stories. Although each story can stand on its own, taken together they become a kind of episodic novel.
Atwood's main characters are often filled with self-doubt, and here Nell is no exception. She questions the wisdom of standing up for herself in "The Art of Cooking and Serving," and in the next story wonders if, at some level, she is the monster in her sister's personal anxiety closet. The four central stories of the collection examine Nell's relationship with her male partner, Tig, and his ex-wife and children. These unfold in the third person, creating a sense of distance from Nell for the reader -- and perhaps reflecting Nell's own distance from herself during this time in her life.
In the two final stories, Nell -- as an unnamed first-person narrator -- is caring for her aging and fading parents. Atwood captures tenderly the heartbreak and frustration that come with helping a parent face mental decline, along with the frequent returns to the past that go along with memory dysfunction. In this way, the stories come full circle as Nell revisits her childhood through her elderly parents' fading recollections.
Throughout, Atwood is at the top of her game, evoking details both of place and of Nell's internal world. The four stories told in the third person feel less satisfying somehow, simply because the character compromises herself so frequently for the sake of a relationship that seems not worth the cost. But even a less satisfying story by Atwood still shines brighter than most.
Consistently, she subverts the reader's expectations while delivering gems of barbed humor and poignant insight.
The new one is smart and funny and action-packed, and it’s bigger and better and sleeker. And Downey does it again, this time ramping up Stark’s arrogant wisecracking, telling anyone who’ll listen (mostly women) that, via the creation of his powerful Iron Man suit, he’s brought years of uninterrupted peace to the world.