The Woman and the Ape is the story of a unique and unforgettable coupleMadelene and Erasmus. Madelene is the wife of Adam Burden, a distinguished behavioral scientist. Erasmusthe unlikely princeis a 300-pound ape. Brought to the Burdens' London home after escaping from animal smugglers, Erasmus is discovered to be a highly intelligent anthropoid ape, the closest thing yet to a human being. Madelene decides to save Erasmus, and between them blossoms a profound affection as deep as any human relationship. A fable for our time, The Woman and the Ape poses searching questions about the nature of love, freedom, and humanity.
Peter Høeg was born in Copenhagen, Denmark. Before becoming a writer, he worked variously as a sailor, ballet dancer, and actor. He published his first novel, A History of Danish Dreams (1988), to positive reviews. However, it was Smilla’s Sense of Snow (1992), a million-copy best seller, that earned Høeg immediate and international literary celebrity. His books have been published in more than thirty countries.
This novel deserves 10 stars, not 5! Being a huge fan of Peter Høeg's, you can imagine my delight when I stumbled upon an edition published in 1997 of The Woman and the Ape. I'd never heard of the novel before, but the fact that my favourite Danish author had written it and the cover was suitably quirky (not the one featured here on Goodreads, but far better), I couldn't wait to get home and start turning the book's yellowed pages.
The experience was like entering a different world and being amazed at every corner turned, the beauty of the writing, the intensity, often the wit (I laughed out loud many times), the total daring of the author to write something so controversial and anti-establishment. Yes, my mouth dropped open a few times. Thoughts entered my mind such as "whoa, he's actually getting away with this", "this book must be banned in some countries", "only the Danes could be this quirky", and "how can he make something that's so taboo seem erotic?"
To say too much about the story would be to issue too many spoilers. The twists, turns, and surprises are part of its charm and excitement. I just love the main character Madelene, who's Danish, although the story is set in London. At the start of the novel, she's a secret alcoholic and a decorative wife to be wheeled out at the end of each day, to play her part in sweetening her husband's evenings and nights, and it's a part she plays well at first, until she meets an ape (not an ordinary ape, mind you, but quite an exceptional one). And so the escapade begins, full of high jinx and dare, moments of extreme tenderness, the full works.
For every answer this novel gives, it poses twenty questions more. I keep having to remind myself that it's a fable, yet one that my mind keeps returning to. I've driven family, friends, acquaintances mad trying to persuade them to read it. They look at me as if to say, why would I want to read a novel about a woman and an ape? And I can't tell them too much because to do so would take the thrill out of their reading experience should they succumb to my pleas.
Many contemporary readers seem to hanker after long and longer novels. In other words, more pages, better value for money, but this isn't always the case. Long can mean rambling, in need of editing, things better said in fewer words. The Woman and The Ape is a short novel (229 pages in the edition I read). The writing is tight, disciplined, and flawless, literary and yet totally unpretentious and accessible.
If you're not broadminded and are easily shocked, then this isn't the novel for you. For those who love anything thought-provoking and are in possession of an extremely quirky sense of humour, then I can't recommend this novel highly enough. It's quite superb and unique.
If you approach this book as a kind of essay on the topic of animals and London (in terms of how many animals are either consumed in London as food or maintained there as pets, zoological spectacles and research objects), you will find a lot to like in this book. If you approach it as an essay on the relation of the animal world to civilized humanity, you will find perhaps less to like, but at least the outlines of a very complicated problem: should the civilized world impose some kind of limit on itself (both in terms of its physical expansion and the scope of its knowledge and control) vis a vis the natural world, or should civilization actively incorporate nature and preserve it "as such"? And what would the preservation be exactly?
These questions are all interesting, but this is NOT an essay. As a novel it doesn't work so well, or not as well as hoped: the characters remain vaguely sketched out, the city and settings equally vague (the city itself is a strange image of London as some kind of amalgam of New York City and something like Hong Kong or Mexico City--London is a big city, so I've heard, but I can't imagine it as the massive, frenetic, sprawling, horizontal and vertical concrete jungle that Hoeg describes here).
The first half of the story if quite entertaining as the drunken wife of a rich, well-bred, important zoologist gradually figures out that she's unhappy and her husband is a monster, and that he's torturing a mysterious, illegally smuggled ape in the name of science and his career. Once that episode is over, one is more or less waiting for the ending, which feels more cinematic and superficial than an "organic" resolution of the story and its ideas. The man/beast sex is surprisingly cold; the Edenic allegory is a bit forced; but the idea of a race of super-apes (more or less understood to be nothing but educated Danes with superhuman strength and body hair) is however quite appealing.
Perhaps it's a question of genre: as a novel, the text doesn't work, but as kind of short story, allegory, or fable it might have something to say. It's a quick read in any case. One sees here and there flickers of the brilliance of Smilla's Sense of Snow.
The Woman and the Ape is about a wealthy, alcoholic housewife, Madelene, who reassess her life when an unusual ape offers her a peach. Peter Hoeg's incisive observations about class, wealth, power, freedom, civilization and beauty, keep this easily readable, animal-rights themed novel, intriguing. Madelene's annoying but unpredictable behavior adds surprising twists to what's bound to happen. You won't go bananas over the book, but the provocative ideas are rife for discussion, even if Hoeg's take on how animals view the world isn't always accurate. Peel it and see.
The general consensus is that the quality of Danish writer Peter Høeg's output has been going downhill ever since "Smilla's Sense of Snow". Many readers in particular dislike "The Woman and the Ape". While I find there's a kernel of truth in that, namely that Høeg has yet to top "Smilla", I find something to appreciate about every single book of his that I have read so far.
Everything considered, "The Woman and the Ape" has a somewhat similar overall "vibe" to "Smilla": Both are unconventional mystery stories with science-fiction elements that feature hypercompetent introverted women protagonists, whose personal skillsets happen to be specialised in ridiculously specific ways. This one, however, takes place in more glamourous environments than the run-down parts of Copenhagen featured in "Smilla" as it focuses on British scientific institutions involved in wildlife conservation. "The Woman and the Ape" eventually turns into an interspecies love story between a human woman and a male missing link between human and ape... I can definitely see why this particular novel rustled some jimmies!
In the later chapters, Høeg steers the story into a magical realist modern day fairy tale that he uses as a springboard to criticise the anthropocentrism of modern societies like the one he grew up in. This is something I imagine is what either makes or breaks "Woman and the Ape" for so many readers, since it starts feeling like one of Høeg's least predictable books because the whole thing started out as a fairly grounded suspense novel taking place in a nuts-and-bolts scientific universe but turns into almost the opposite of that. Indeed taking the plot in that direction is necessary to even successfully make the reader question the assumptions they have brought up with about the world they live in, and their views of humanity as clearly separated from the rest of nature.
I think in order to understand "The Woman and the Ape" you need both an affinity with magical realist storytelling, and an active interest in environmental issues as well as complex philosophical discussions about exactly what separates humans from other animals. Many of the central moral and philosophical dilemmas, as well as how the story unfurls, did surprise me but I did have some pre-existing familiarity with all of the basic concepts even if they turned out to be a different set of basic themes for the novel than I had expected.
To put things bluntly: This is a novel I feel I enjoyed for the exact same reasons that quite a few people disliked it.
Su rašytoju Peter Hoeg susipažinau skaitydama žymiausią jo darbą – „Panelės Smilos sniego jausmas“ – tokį beveik detektyvą, kuris manęs labai nesužavėjo, bet „Moteris ir beždžionė“ turbūt savo pavadinimu patraukė dėmesį ir nusprendžiau pabandyti šį autorių antrą kartą.
Ir turiu pasakyti, kad autorius atsiskleidė visiškai kitoje šviesoje. Iš aprašymo ir pagal pirmąją rašytojo knygą kažkaip natūraliai tikėjausi detektyvo, o gavau nors ir su trilerio elementais, tokį gana filosofinį romaną apie civilizaciją. Labai analogiškai nutiko ir su „Panelės Smilos sniego jausmu“ – nors romano ašis ir yra detektyvas, iš tiesų gavau tokį gana filosofinį romaną apie mokslą ir galbūt net kažkiek apie civilizaciją. Ir dabar supratau, kad šio rašytojo kūrinius reikia imtis skaityti ne tada kai norisi kažko labiau atpalaiduojančio, ko tikiesi iš tų populiariųjų detektyvų ir trilerių žanrų, o kai norisi kažko rimto ir provokuojančio, nes Peter Hoeg į tuos žanrus tik įvynioja savo gana kontraversiškas mintis.
„Moteris ir beždžionė“ – vienas keistesnių skaitytų romanų, pradedamas brakonierius iš laivo išvertusia ir prisišvartavusia beždžione, plėtojamas per alkoholizmo liūne besikapanojančios trofėjinės brito danės žmonos prizmę, kai ji lyg sapne pradeda aiškintis apie beždžionę ir bando ją išgelbėti, o galiausiai skaitytoją palieka tokioje kingongiškoje ir distopinėje suirutėje. Apie šį romaną labai sunku papasakoti neatskleidžiant siužeto detalių, kuris šiaip jau gana smagus ir leidžia mėgautis gana lengvu skaitymu, kol neužgriūna visas filosofinis sunkumas.
Pirmoje knygos pusėje autorius labai smagiai pašiepia tamsiuosius mūsų civilizacijos aspektus ir buvau labai susižavėjusi šiuo kūriniu, nes jo keista forma ir toks žaismingas pasakojimo moralas labai imponavo, bet autorius galiausiai paprastas aliuzijas pakeitė sudėtingesnėmis ir visas pasakojimo lengvumas dingo, nuo įdomių disputų apie gyvūnus ir žmones pereita prie gal labai gilių, bet labai chaotiškai atskleistų peripetijų, kurios manęs kaip ir nepasiekė.
Autoriui visgi ploju už tokį drąsų romaną, žaviuosi jo mokslinėmis žiniomis, kurias jis labai plačiai įtraukia į savo knygas ir dabar užmetus akį į jo bibiliografiją labai užkliuvo jo distopija, kurią norisi perskaityti ir pamatyti, kaip autorius savo civilizacijos filosofiją suderino su šiuo populiariuoju žanru.
I never fully grasped what Hoeg was trying to communicate with this bizarre tale of the discovery of a new advanced ape species, and the intimate relationship between one particular ape and the wife of a noted behavioral scientist. At times there were echoes of "King Kong" and at others "E.T." But Hoeg's narrative also encompasses the divide between genders as well as the similarities and differences between animals and humans. None of the characters came across as real to me, and the pandemonium at the end of the book seemed completely nonsensical. I give points to Hoeg for imagination however, and he is an adept wordsmith.
Loved this book...an insightful parable about man and animals, free will and destiny, science and humanism. The main character is an alcoholic housewife, Madalene, married well, who runs away with an anthropoid ape (he talks) named Erasmus.
Peter Hoeg is the same guy who wrote Smilla's Sense of Snow, which I liked a lot, but this is much, much better.
Knygą baigiau skaityti beveik prieš savaitę, bet vis galvojau ką galėčiau parašyti. Nerašau apžvalgų, bet kažką trumpai parašyti norisi ir reikia 🙂
Paėmus knygą į rankas tikrai nesitikėjau labai daug. Goodreads įvertinimas gana žemas (3.34) ir knygos aprašymas visai neinformatyvus. Na iš pradžių kaip ir tikėjausi - ėjosi sunkiai. Daug teksto, rašo gana nuobodžiai. Beeet! Perskaičiusi dar šiek tiek pradėjau susidraugauti su knyga.
Madlena - moteris, gimusi Danijoje, bet šiuo metu gyvenanti Anglijoje kartu su savo vyru zoologu. Madlena tipinė dama, kuri savo dienas leidžia dvare. Kiekvieną dieną, laukdama savo vyro grįžtančio iš darbo, kankinama rutinos, svaiginasi pačios sumaišytu spirito tirpalu, ko pasekoje įklimpsta į alkoholizmo liūną. Vieną dieną į jų dvarą patenka Erazmas - tam tikros rūšies šimpanzė, turinti kognityvinių gebėjimų. Čia ir prasideda visas knygos įdomumas.
Tai buvo pirma mano skaityta šio rašytojo knyga. Knyga vienareikšmiškai nebuvo lengva. Beždžionės ir moters santykis mane visiškai šokiravo, išjungė ir beveik privertė numesti knygą, bet pagalvojau: "-Juk turi būti kažkoks paaiškinimas kodėl įvyko tai kas įvyko." Tai ir privertė mane baigti knygą. Pabaiga man tikrai patiko. Niekada negalime žinoti, kas gyvena tarp mūsų…
Mani fascinē tas, kā viņam vienmēr izdodas rakstīt par neērtajiem jautājumiem ar tādu mazliet neķītri rotaļīgi aizrautību. Šoreiz par cilvēku un dzīvnieku līdzāspastāvēšanu, par zoodārziem un pētījumiem, par to kur slēpjas tas saprāts, kas mūs šķir no dzīvniekiem un vai vispār mēs maz esam tik atšķirīgi. Beigas bija man liels pārsteigums. Noteikti ieteiktu izlasīt!
While this book by Peter Høeg did not get high ratings in the reviews I read, I found the book delightful. I love the opening scene in which a super-intelligent ape creates havoc with his captors in London. I like the way it treats "scientists" studying an exotic animal in an unnecessarily destructive way. While this is a bit of science fiction, the story is a could-be one with Peter Høeg's usual sharp observations, on contemporary Britain in this case.
Es geht um eine neue Affenart, die dem Menschen erstaunlich ähnlich ist, um erotische Anziehungskraft eines Affen auf eine Frau (KingKong lässt grüßen) und die aus diesem Konflikt entstehende Gesellschaftskritik. Interessant zu lesen, aber mit dieser vorhersehbaren Moral etwas platt, auf jeden Fall nicht überragend.
A fülszöveg alapján azt hittem, filozófiai-etikai disszertáció következik arról, mi különbözteti meg az embert az állattól, valahogy úgy, ahogy anno Vercors csinálta. De igazándiból egy egzisztencialista kalandregényt kaptam, főszerepben Madelene-nel, akinek feneette jó dolga van valami Nógrád megye nagyságú angol kastélykomplexumban (annál is inkább, mert rohadt gazdag férje, aki állatkert-igazgató akar lenni – ennek később jelentősége lesz – nem igazán van otthon), és mint a kastélykomplexumokban kóválygó, rohadt gazdag és/vagy elfoglalt férjjel rendelkező feleségek általában, unatkozik. Én az ő helyében olvasgatnék, túráznék, esetleg árvízi hajóssá képezném át magam, de őt szintúgy rohadt gazdag szülei eleve biodíszletnek nevelték kastélykomplexumok részére, ergo erre nem képes. Viszont mivel gyártási hibás biodíszlet, szenved, egzisztenciális válságba kerül, azon gondolkodik, mi végre ez az egész, és kétségeit alkoholban próbálja meg feloldani. Aztán egyszer csak felbukkan a majom. Illetőleg a majomnak látszó nem-majom. Vagy nem-majomnak látszó majom. Egyszóval: a LÉNY, akit foglyul ejtettek ki tudja, hol, és most idekerült férjuramhoz, aki kísérletezne vele. Mindez pedig arra készteti Madelene-t, hogy passzolja alkoholizmusát, és valami érdekesebbel foglalkozzon.
Høeg alapvetően a zsánerekből jól ismert „kincskeresős” kalandregény-toposszal dolgozik, amelynek lényege, hogy legyen valami, amit főhősünk nagyon meg akar szerezni, esetleg valaki, akit nagyon ki akar szabadítani valahonnan, és miközben ezen ügyködik (botcsinálta Philip Marlowe-ként információkat keres, szövetségeket köt, ellenségeket szerez), jellemfejlődésen megy át, és esendő karakterből hősies karakterré változik. Ebben az esetben a majom(szerű lény) tulajdonképpen nem más, mint a KINCS, és a regény majd kétharmadáig nincs is más funkciója, mint hogy egyre növeli a főhős érdeklődését maga iránt (pusztán azzal, hogy titokzatos), illetve módot ad különböző szereplőknek, hogy zoológiai és ökológiai fejtegetésekbe bocsátkozzanak. A szerző ezeket az elemeket jól működteti, én legalábbis élveztem a szöveget, kellően feszültnek és izgalmasnak találtam. Aztán az utolsó harmadra a fenn említett KINCS egyre inkább arcot kap, és átveszi a regény irányítását: egyfajta szuperhőssé változik, aki (a hóna alá csapott Madelene-nel) menekül a nyomában loholó üldözők elől. És bevallom, ez már nem tetszett annyira. Egyfelől azért, mert Høeg láthatóan egyre légből kapottabb tudományos rizsákkal igyekszik megágyazni a tervezett végkifejletnek, de főleg azért, mert ez a végkifejlet kifejezetten giccsesre és felületesre sikeredett*.
Alapvetően jól olvasható, okosan felépített szöveg izgalmas karakterekkel és fontos kérdésfeltevésekkel. Kár, hogy bár a kérdést sikerült feltennie az írónak, a válasz megfogalmazásakor megbicsaklott a tolla.
* Akiknek elvettem a kedvét a könyvtől, azoknak elspoilerezem: A majom(szerű lény) a végjátékban jól kiosztja az emberiséget, tartva nekik egy Greenpeace-brosúra színvonalára lebutított szentbeszédet, majd belevitorlázik barátaival és szerelmével, Madelene-nel a lemenő napba. Persze ettől még az ember ugyanúgy tönkreteszi a bolygót, akárhová vitorláznak előle, de legalább a felelősséget ledobták magukról, gratulálok.
Kvinnan, som titeln implicerar, vars ”liv hade varit en nischexistens, en i biologisk mening högt specialiserad tillvaro anpassad till ett liv i äktenskaplig sysslolöshet och representation” heter Madeleine (som kakan?). Hon kommer från Danmark men bor nu i London med sin man Adam. Han är en karriärhungrig beteendevetare. Hon är olycklig och alkoholiserad. Hon börjar varje morgon med att ”återuppstå” det vill säga hon sminkar sig.
Med apan kunde man kanske tro att Peter Høeg avser mannen, hö hö, men nej. Mannen är alltför lågt stående för att kunna mäta sig med en apa, i alla fall den här sorten. Apan som kidnappas från sitt habitat, heter Erasmus vilket betyder älskad. Och visst får han uppleva kärlek men också det motsatta när människan utför experiment på honom i vetenskapens namn.
”Bara det att veta, på Adams sätt, det förstör det man vet något om. Eller förändrar det.”
Det här är en oerhört originell roman, svår att genrebestämma (sci-fi, thriller?). Jag har inte läst något av Høeg tidigare och slås av hans personliga stil. Det är välskrivet, lättsamt men samtidigt forcerat, liksom svulstigt men också styltigt, jag får det aldrig riktigt att flyta. För många klyschor för min smak och ibland nästan barnsligt. Temat är jätteintressant och tangerar exempelvis Fjärilens tyngd i sitt utforskande av gränsen mellan människa och djur. Människan med sitt medvetande som stjäl uppmärksamhet från livet som är nu, hennes förmåga att ljuga och spela roller, hon ser bara sådant hon förväntar sig och förblindas av pengar och makt. Men formen bär inte. Det är för spretigt. Jag stör mig på övernaturligheterna. Även om jag jag väljer att betrakta dem som metaforer förvirrar Høeg mig. Att det handlar om kritik av människans högmod, civilisation och exploatering av djuren står dock klart, och det uppskattar jag.
Karaktärerna utmålas som goda eller onda och är inte speciellt intressanta. Förutom Madeleine som genomgår en spännande utveckling. Men även henne kategoriserar han in absurdum. Jag vill tro att det finns goda intentioner från författarens sida att försöka förstå ”kvinnan” och hennes omständigheter i ett patriarkat och så vidare. Jag uppskattar försöket men måste tyvärr meddela att för mig framstår hon som helt och hållet orealistisk. Han är på tunn is Hoeg och är väldigt nära att braka igenom som en mansgris.
”Det var mycket tyst hon sa det, men det fanns i hennes röst något som ibland, mycket sällan, finns i en kvinnas röst när något är avgörande viktigt för henne, och hon sträcker sig efter det utan att pressa sig, en form av musik, sfärernas musik, en ultraljudsignal som är riktad direkt mot männens centrala nervsystem, och som därför också träffade både apans och Adams.”
Längst bak i boken i samband med författarpresentationen står det att intäkterna från boken har författaren låtit donera till ”Lolwe, en fond för bistånd till tredje världens kvinnor och barn”. (Den är publicerad 1996.)
Antingen gillar man den här berättelsen för att den är fantasifull och spännande. Slutet är faktiskt ganska kul. Eller så lämnas man brydd kring vad författaren vill säga. Man ska vara snäll mot andra människor och djur, var det poängen?
Hēgu lasīt ir bauda! Viņa sarkasms, iesmejot par snobiskajām Anglijas kastām un burbuļiem, viņa neķītrās fantāzijas, viņa stāsti, valoda, fakti vienmēr ir ar pievienoto vērtību. Brīnišķīgi!
''-Man negribētos to teikt, bet virtuvē viss ir pārskaitīts un trūkst vienas dakšiņas. Es tikai domāju, ka man tas ir jāpasaka. Tas tomēr ir C.J.Vander ražojums.'' (59)
''Internātskolas, - viņa teica. - Tevi tur ieliek četru līdz septiņu gadu vecumam. Mūsu aprindām pilnīgi parasta lieta. Tiek uzskatītas par labāko dzīves sākumu, kāds vien ir iedomājams. Sports, māksla un literatūra, četras svešvalodas. Augstas klases mājturība un rēķinvedība. Tu dabū pilnīgi visu. Izņemot mīlestību.'' (83)
''Viņus piesprādzē. Proti, pērtiķus. Un noņem micīti. Galvaskausa augšējo daļu. Tā atsedzot smadzenes. Un tad ir tās adatas. Brīnum precīzas. Ar tām var notvert katru atsevišķo neironu.'' (106)
''Es gribētu lūgt, lai jūs paturat prātā tikai vienu lietu. To, cik grūti ir noteikt, kurā vietā - ikvienā no mums - beidzas tas, ko jūs saucat par cilvēku un sākas tas, ko jūs saucat par dzīvnieku.'' (207)
''Kas ir enģelis? - pērtiķis jautāja. -Es to nekad īsti neesmu sapratusi, -viņa teica. - Bet varbūt enģelis ir trešdaļa Dieva, trešdaļa dzīvnieka un trešdaļa cilvēka.'' (218)
I read it in Danish and it was a very difficult book. It was way above my language level, but I pushed through anyway. I’m sure I missed some details because of that, but I’m alright with it.
I feel like the description of the book is often not accurate and spoils the plot too much. But the end was unexpected, so at least I had some kind of surprise in this reading experience.
All in all, the story is a bit crazy and that what makes it interesting, but there were quite a few places, where I was shaking my head, because it was not convincing.
I also flipped through Lithuanian translation and some places sounded funny in a bad way.
4 stars might be generous. The ending, imo, was pretty lame. But right up until the last ~25 pages it was really good. The writing is also so nice, easy to read but not simple and bland. Crazy plot but each sentence is a reasonable mix of understandable and stuff that makes your mind do a double take. Leaves room for sections that are absurdly mundane and some that are shocking because of their surroundings. Plenty of good ape books it turns out
Narrated in a drole style with a lot of telling relative to showing, this bizarre tale of a woman's affair with an ape is fudged by the suggestion that he is from a previously unknown humanoid species. It is a mildly entertaining yarn but I'm glad I read it in one sitting as I'm not sure I would have picked it up again.
Jeg kan huske vi læste denne i folkeskolen som månedens bog. Jeg gik kold i den ¼ inde. Men næh, hvor er jeg glad for at jeg har givet den en chance som voksen. Peter Høeg er intet mindre en genial. 😍
20-oji "Garsiausios XX a. pabaigos knygos" serijos knyga. Po Danijos rašytojo P. Hoego romano apie panelę Smilą tikėjausi kažko vau. Gavau intelektualesnė King Kongo versiją. Kritikai gali žarstyti liaupses apie "žmogiškumo" ir "žvėriškumo" priešpriešą, pašaipą iš civilizacijos klišių, bet man reikėtų logiško paaiškinimo , kaip per 3 mėnesius parduoti 50 000 tokio niekalo egzempliorių.
IIt's written…interestingly. To keep suspense as you read it passes between characters, settings, and their backgrounds in a flow that keeps you interested.
Takes place in the past in London, I suppose during the modern day, but it feels disconnected.
Great opening with the ape killing people on a yacht only to be bitten by a doberman. Adam and Madalline are married, a rich woman in a boring world. Susan, her old friend, arrives. It wanes and flows with who is important at what time.
A vet helps Mads understand that her husband is searching for compassion in apes, by hurting them. The book is a mad rush to keep said information away from the authorities.
It gets boring at times and you think she is crazy. The ape is legit an animal but the author tries to skirt this with intelligence and inaccurate species reading.
She and the ape escape together into the night. They break into department stores to steal tent supplies to sleep in a botanical garden or something. It was quite interesting.
The sex scenes give you the gist of what happens. I'm not entirely certain if it's supposed to be a metaphor or not. Because the book just suddenly changes into her living with him in the garden.
Then they realize they can’t stay in paradise forever and confront the world but turns out he was using her to show off how secret members of his people were hidden among society and that also doesn’t really go anywhere before they all just got on a boat for him to return to his island with Mads. It has some deep words about what makes a human human compared to an animal and that’s all really…
I feel like the book was trying to be heavy-handed about animal rights but missed the bar. I really felt there was a missed opportunity to have an unreliable narrator considering how the main character was drunk for half the book. I did like the kind ending but it felt like it wasn’t fully deserved, but perhaps I’m wrong as they did deserve to simply be happy in the world that accepted them.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
I fear I am not intelligent enough to draw the maximum from this book. I was at least halfway through before I could stop using the synopsis as a road map to remind myself what was going on. The prose is dense and highly intelligent but much of its message was lost on me. All I took from the first hundred or so pages was that a form of alcohol exists which you can drink and not end up incoherent and embarrassing and find yourself waking up with your tongue fused to the carpet. In fact it renders you sharply intuitive and resourceful regardless of your reputation as a gin-soaked lush. Madelene has located such a substance and really ought to market it instead of snogging apes. But anyway.
If you can make it to the halfway point this book does become un-putdownable, and there are scattered moments of high farce (such as the incident with the chocolate cake) which make the whole thing worth reading on any level. I also admired the way in which the author compared with ape with the Falkland Islands in an unlikely but startlingly astute observation which made me wonder how naked we really are as a nation.
Ultimately though, I found this a frustrating read – because it was an original and thought provoking subject and because I fear there wasn’t enough of it, and of what there was, most flew right over my head.
A ship smuggling wild animals crashes into a pier in an English harbor, allowing a strange ape to escape. He is eventually captured by a behavioral scientist who finds out how preternaturally intelligent this ape is. The scientist wants to to more experiments on the animal, but his alcoholic wife, who is drawn to the creature, thwarts the plan and helps him escape. While on the run, the odd couple falls in love. Is the creature, an animal, a man, or something else?
This is a very bizarre book that explores what it means to be human, and the nature of love. Not sure if it will be everyone's cup of tea, but it is worthy of consideration.
"She turned to face the ape. 'There is no such thing as outside now', she said. 'If there's freedom to be found, it'll have to be in the inside'"
"Contrary to what adults believe the joy of children at play comes not from having no knowledge of Death - every creature has that. It comes from their divining what the grown-ups have lost sight of; that even though Death makes a fierce opponent, it is not invincible."
"You're not what went before. If anything, you're what comes after."