Janet Belle Smith visits Illyria, a New England artists' colony, in hopes of improving her writing, and discovers an unexpected chance for a love affair
Alison Stewart Lurie was an American novelist and academic. She won the Pulitzer Prize for Fiction for her 1984 novel Foreign Affairs. Although better known as a novelist, she wrote many non-fiction books and articles, particularly on children's literature and the semiotics of dress.
A confession: I picked this book up from the library because Alison Lurie was a friend of my late grandmother, who thought highly of her (Lurie's) work. They met at Yaddo, the famous artists' colony in Saratoga, and Lurie had the nerve to write a "novel" about the place. My grandmother praised it, both for the fine writing and the vivid truthfulness of its telling. Barely half-way through, I fully agree with her assessment.
It's a marvelous, honest, cleanly-written book. However, key members of the Yaddo establishment were furious at Lurie, both at her having broken the solemn taboo against Yaddo "guests" describing its edenic nature to the prurient uninitiated, and for her having painted a too-true portrait of then-director Elizabeth Ames' spoiled, bored, unartistic daughter, who had a penchant for idly seducing male guests. My grandmother recalled a conversation she overheard about the book, between a new guest and a Yaddo staff member: "Did Ms. Lurie write it after her first visit to Yaddo?" "No, after her LAST visit."
Ms. Lurie must have known the risk that she was taking in writing and publishing "Real People": like Eve, she would be forever barred from returning to Yaddo and partaking of its luxurious ambient - fruitful to so many artists and writers for generations - and the cachet bestowed on the chosen ones fortunate enough to enjoy repeated stays and their resultant productivity. But this was a book that needed to be written, if only to immortalize a kind of magical Otherworld, to peep like Actaeon at the nymphs and demi-Gods at play. And the gossip - never mind that its 40 years old - still tastes fresh and juicy! The dialogue is written as if for a play, and the novel's narrator includes notes for possible short stories in between her perceptive and humanizing remarks. Impossible to describe how engaging this book is. Teasingly, the names of "real people" (including my grandmother!) are included side by side with thinly disguised pseudonyms of other "real people". No doubt sensibilities were inflamed and assaulted, but bravo to Ms. Lurie for sharing! The book is probably a better read now than it was in the '60s.
To be honest, I didn't quite expect much from this novel - I've loved Lurie's Foreign Affairs so much that it was difficult to believe that anything else would be as good since the bar was too high. Yet, she proved me wrong and I'm very happy that she did.
DNF’d this one. I wanted to love it but just couldn’t get into it. The synopsis seemed interesting but to be honest it reminded me of Nine Perfect Strangers which I struggled to finish. Just couldn’t do it 🤷🏻♀️
I read most of Lurie's novels over 20 years ago, so obviously liked her but couldn't remember what they were about at all. So I dusted off 'Real People' from my bookshelf. Got halfway through and wondered what I had originally liked. Seemed rather slight. about a group of writers and painters on an artists' retreat. The narrator, one of the writers, rather precious about being an 'artist' and believing herself above the rest of us.
But I am so glad I persisted. As the narration progresses, Lurie widens the gap between how the narrator regards herself, with the rather petty reality, until even she awakens to the disparity. Very subtle, wry, human and true. So I have dusted off a second one...
I almost abandoned this book less than halfway through, deducing that it was an endless chronicling of the kind of mind chatter (known as “monkey mind”) of a writer at a writers’ retreat—familiar territory for me. But then I checked other Goodreaders’ reviews and decided to read on. Even though I pretty much knew what was coming, I enjoyed it as the intensity of the main character’s self-knowledge and self-disgust heated up. This story will be familiar to writers as well as anybody who has ever idealized any group, imagining that here people will be different, or better, more noble and respectful. It ain’t true. We’re all the same everywhere. And Alison Lurie does a very good job illustrating the hard awakening to that truth.
Although this novel seems a little in grown--writer writing about writers and writing--it's beautifully written and very clever--exploring who are the "real people" and who are the "lovely people." Unfortunately it appears that everyone is real people and noone is lovely people. There is also a very funny riff on One as pronoun, or Wun as Chineese character in the protagonists novel.
This book has gotten glowing reviews ... and now, a word from your faithful curmudgeon.
The audio sample seemed well done, and I was curious about writers' colonies, so I figured I'd apply an expiring credit towards this. The only work I'd read of Lurie's I'd read, I liked, though it was non-fiction: Familiar Spirits: A Memoir of James Merrill and David Jackson.
Initially, the book held promise with its description of the grounds, staff and attendees. Then, the soap-opera-like tone set in, where I had trouble keeping the characters apart, not really liking any of them, including the protagonist. Had this been a library book, I might've thrown in the towel, but it's relatively short, and well written, so I persevered. The final scene made a good point, but honestly, I felt it rather a slog getting there.
Audio narration fit well, no complaints on that score.
Real People tells the story of a minor writer and her visit to an artist’s retreat. It’s not her first visit, and in the beginning she idealizes both the retreat and its occupants. But the idyll is shattered when a young and sexyish girl with a taste for writers comes to visit and suddenly everyone (including the protagonist) is at their worst.
Real People is about writers and writing. It’s about how hard it can be for an artist to remain honest, how hard it is to have the courage to tell truth and to reveal yourself in your work. It’s simply written and quickly read. I enjoyed it.
Absolutely hilarious, satirical, brilliantly observed. Punctures artistic egos, but also a more fundamental debate about artistic mission and ambitions. Entertaining and thought-provoking. And I wish there were more books set in writers' colonies.
I've read and loved most of Alison Lurie's books (my favourite is Foreign Affairs, but her academic writing on children's literature is also worth a read) but this one had passed me by. It's one of her earlier works and formative; some of the network of interrelated characters that populate all her fiction and bind them together appear here. It's also rather disappointing. She set a high standard for herself later on.
Although Alison Luire an American and a Professor Emerita at Cornell she's an anglophile like the (thinly-disguised) protagonist of Foreign Affairs, and a thoroughly British writer in style; more like a feminist Kingsley Amis than most American writers. I believe she lives in her beloved London these days; she's still with us at 92 but I don't think she's written anything for quite a long time now.
it was as if Lena Dunhams character from Girls was forty in the 1960s and wrote this book…
definitely a unique read - the WASPy undertones made it a bit riddled in privilege and old fashioned thought, which in turn made me cringe every ten pages. that being said - BETWEEN those pages were PAGES of beautiful, well-composed text from Alison Lurie. an interesting diary-esque read following the stepping-out-of-ones-lane actions by a forty year old woman at a cultish writers colony in the 60s.
“Once he'd sat down and had some iced tea, Kenneth began to look more like himself. But it took time. I kept scanning his face while we talked, as if it were a strange landscape. A scene agreeable rather than picturesque Midwestern rather than Alpine. Smooth rolling plains, only slightly eroded with age; regular features of moderate dimensions, given an air of intellectuality by the recession of vegetation on the upper slopes. (SAVE THIS)”
Puts the "dartboards" in "art," as blocked writer bees squirm to flourish in the sealed-off hive of a country house.
The most insidious pitfall seems to be valuing "writing" over "behavior" (e.g., characters make moral decisions based on how it relates to genre), but also valuing "good" behavior over "ugly." Petty jealousies overtake their minds. But if only they would be stop trying to be less jealous...
Assumptions about what words are for becomes so infuriating that an inspirational walk-in-the-woods morphs into a moshing of rare ferns. When the writer costume is glued on like a hair shirt, an ego undressing is impossible.
Despite the suggestion to the contrary on the cover of this book, it just didn't have much substance. It sounded very autobiographical, which is fine, but it was fairly predictable and suburban. But maybe that was the whole point.
I have enjoyed other Alison Lurie books so was a little disappointed with this one. But I am a lot older than I was last time I read her. That may have something to do with it.
I enjoyed the various artistic types that populate the colony at Illyria as they act and interact in both synergistic and counterproductive ways; the focus of this is, of course, the narrator, whose insight into her own creative expression evolves dramatically over the weeks spent there. This is a short novella that is witty, thought-provoking, and name-dropping. Based on truth???
A quick read, and an amusing one, very much rooted in its time and place of Yaddo in the 1970s. I appreciated how the author manage to pull it off that while reading, I grew to dislike the narrator at the same pace at which she grew to dislike herself.
The only reason that I finished this book is because it was short. But in the last few pages it all came together and made the whole book worth reading.
Perhaps this novel could have been "ok" (at best). Every time the author started going someplace where I thought it might get interesting, though, it just stopped there.
For instance in one short passage, a visual artist (Nick) mentions his father and uncle think his job teaching art was "soft", and that he agrees with them ; the main character and narrator makes a move to say that working in art also has difficulties, that perhaps she disagrees.... but doesn't say anything. It just stops there.
Every opinion expressed in this book is half-baked and subjective. I couldn't at all agree with most of the reflections about art, literature, etc. expressed in the book, and I've been bathing in the arts personally and professionally for years. At first in the book I thought "maybe it can be interesting for people who aren't artists and wonder what it's like", but now that I've read the whole book, I can just hope no non-artists read this, because it'll just give off a totally false, subjective, and even repulsive view of arts.
In this book, we have an uninteresting, WASPP, higher-class snob of a main character, who goes through some process of self discovery to discover that she might be (just might, it's not sure) wrong for being a judgmental hypocrite. Let me tell you, I didn't need 150 pages to get that opinion.
The characters are bland, their psychology is of grade-a caricature. I think even for the author it all came about as "all too stereotypical", since at the end she kind of pokes fun at that. This being said, it's not because you are conscious of having written irrelevant and stereotypical hooey, that it makes it good to write it.
After having read half the book, I could only think "this author went to an artist retreat and had no idea what to write about, so she wrote about that". Turns out, that that's exactly what happened. It really wasn't that difficult to spot out. It was difficult to finish this boring, uninteresting, and empty book, though. I only didn't give up because it was so short (or seemed so short, haha).
This repulsive portrayal of sickly bourgeois pearly-white conservatives trying to maintain their status even though they don't have much to express, is a waste of time.
Extremely enjoyable and occasionally profound. Janet Belle Smith is a housewife and mother married to an insurance executive. Much to her husband's chagrin, she has embarked on a literary career and has had a measure of success with short-stories. The book chronicles her stay in a fancy artists's retreat. Initially Janet is wild with joy to be once again among congenial spirits who don't disapprove of her writing. She is in awe of the more famous guests and friendly towards the younger ones. However, things change dramatically when the teenage god-daughter of the estate's manager comes for a long weekend. In true Lolita fashion, Anna May has all the males panting after her, thereby destroying the Arcadian feel of the institution. Janet herself embarks on an affair with Nick, a painter from a working-class background whom she despised at first, but who turns out to be a lot more genuine than some of the more sophisticated guests. Lurie is very good at exposing the self-serving lies people use to justify their sexual behavior as well as their social prejudices. She shows that a retreat such as Illyria/Yaddo does wonders for artists but also infantilizes them and turns into a microcosm where the same old patterns apply as anywhere else.
An exploration of the clay feet of the golden artist, the novel is set in Illyria, a Yaddo-like retreat for artists of all kinds. Narrated by Janet Belle Smith--who regularly reminds herself to keep bits of this diary she is writing for use in her fiction--the novel examines a few weeks of creative 'retreat' in detail, treating all manner of slow revelations related to the ordinary weaknesses that these largely famous but still "real" people have to wrestle with while creating all their wonderfully free and imaginative art. Rather an inconclusive conclusion. I expected, from the name "Illyria" a more overt connection to Twelfth Night but Lurie is writing in the late sixties and not quite yet into anything so overtly postmodern. What it shares with Twelfth Night (and a host of other texts from the dawn of literature) is a deep sadness about how absolutely foolish we can all be.
Lo único que salva a este libro de la quema son las últimas diez páginas; estas le otorgan cierto sentido a la historia y componen una lección sobre la escritura que me ha gustado mucho y que de ahora en adelante tendré muy presente. Sin embargo, las 172 páginas previas me han resultado molestas. Alison Lurie se encarna en Janet Belle Smith, una «encantadora» escritora que se va de retiro a una mansión idílica para artistas en mitad del campo. Durante la semana que nos narra, sin embargo, veremos que la «encantadora» Janet es más bien una mujer insegura, celosa, frustrada y resentida, una clasista y una snob, y por no continuar con los adjetivos: un personaje absolutamente insoportable y autocomplaciente. En la novela no pasa gran cosa y el elenco de personajes secundarios está de adorno.
This should have been a quick read - a slim volume under 200 pages- but it was a slow start. I struggled to 'get into' the plot, which itself concerns a collection of 'artists' at a manor house type of retreat to work on their art. A 'chick' comes at some point and causes havoc. The protagonist, sensible Janet, spends the novel lamenting her position as housewife/ proper woman versus delving deeply into her craft as a writer and writing stories about 'real people'. The conclusion is good. I also spent half the novel trying to separate the homogeneous mass of characters into individual people- Gerry, Teddy, Charlie, Clark, Charlie.....
Happy to know it's based on real people and a real place! But not as good as 'Foreign Affairs'!
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This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
This may not be a powerhouse novel, but I found it interesting and entertaining. The setting is an artist colony that is not-so-loosely based on Yaddo in New York, and the story centers on the reckless behavior of the residents, including the narrator. There is plenty of jealousy, mischief, competition, and hurt feelings to make for a juicy plot. By mid-century moral standards, their antics would be judged as scandalous. I am reminded of the advice that American author Flannery O'Connor, a faithful and slightly naive Roman Catholic, gave friends who were planning to retreat to Yaddo, as she had done shortly after graduating from the Writers Workshop at Iowa. She warned them about the various "distractions" that one would encounter at a place like Yaddo and to be disciplined and concentrate on why they were there in the first place -- to work. There are times when work is the last thing on the minds of these characters. Funny, but not particularly raunchy.
scorching, hilarious, meta, true. how have i waited 43 years to read alison lurie?
"you get what you want in life, but not your second choice, too."
"the future and the past both belong to us. But how about the present? No. Jam yesterday, jam tomorrow, but never jam today."
"Fiction is condensed reality; and that's why its flavor is more intense, like bouillon or frozen orange juice."
"you can't write well with only the nice parts of your character, and only about nice things. And I don't even want to try anymore. I want to use everything -- including hate and envy, lust and fear."
This is one of the first books I bought after starting work and having money to spend. I read it in the late 80s and reread it this week. Such a fantastic writer, describing a creative retreat for artists, musicians, writers and sculptors. It’s based on a place the author knew and was said to be forbidden to ever return after the book was published. She explores whether the idyllic setting gives people the opportunity to be their real selves, and what it is to be a writer. I thin’ I loved the book even more on rereading
Painfully, I found this book to be plotless until about 2/3 of the way in and even then it was soul sucking. I understand the point really. That the main character was meant to learn more about herself and who she truly is as well as others in this place of seclusion. However, I found her to be terribly whiny which was perhaps very real to her but off putting and annoying to me.
It was a quick torture so I couldn’t give it less than 3 stars. Although if it went on for another 10 pages I don’t know if I would have made it through.
I'd forgotten how much I enjoyed Alison Lurie when I read her books 30 years ago, then I came across Real People in a charity shop when I needed to pass some time before meeting someone. By page three I was thinking 'This is brilliant! Why haven't I been reading Alison Lurie all these years?'
Having spent time at an artist's retreat not unlike the one described in this novel, I could relate to so much of what she was writing about. All told in a slightly acerbic tone.
La narración trata de un retiro espiritual para los artistas del momento en una mansión con todo pagado por su "patrona" matriarca de la casa. Supongo que el tema principal es la hipocresía, también la idea de que no existe lo ideal y de que todos somos corrompibles, todos somos vulnerables a la atención devota de otra persona y a mantener nuestros delirios hasta darnos de bruces contra la fea realidad.
At first I thought the whole story was somewhat dated. But then I understood the satire behind it. The voice of the protagonist was unbearable at times but deliberately so. That is hard to sustain over an entire book. I like how she began to unravel and get what she needed in the end.