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Winner of the National Book Award
Set in Rhode Island, Winner of the National Book Award tells the story of twins who could not be more different. Abigail Mather is a woman of passionate sensual and sexual appetites, while her sister, the book loving local librarian Dorcas, lives a quiet life of the mind. But when the sisters are sought out by the predatory and famous poet, Guy DeVilbiss, who introduces them to Hollywood hack writer and possible psychopath Conrad Lowe, they rapidly become pawns in a game that leads to betrayal, shame and ultimately, murder.
Darkly comic and satirical, Jincy Willett's Winner of the National Book Award is unnervingly funny and disarmingly tender whether she is writing about sex, literary delusion or Yankee pretension.
Darkly comic and satirical, Jincy Willett's Winner of the National Book Award is unnervingly funny and disarmingly tender whether she is writing about sex, literary delusion or Yankee pretension.
336 pages, Paperback
First published September 5, 2000
127 people are currently reading
1591 people want to read
About the author
Jincy Willett
11 books232 followersFrom the author's website: "An aging, bitter, unpleasant woman living in Escondido, California, who spends her days parsing the sentences of total strangers and her nights teaching and writing. Sometimes, late at night, in the dark, she laughs inappropriately." This is also the short bio on her character, Amy Gallup, on her blog in "The Writing Class."
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 347 reviews
July 12, 2013
This afternoon I was getting ready to go to a dinner party up in Riverdale (for non–New Yorkers, that's about as far from Brooklyn as, say, Rhode Island). I was late, as I always am. And as I was about to dash out the door, I had a moment of honest-to-goodness panic when I realized that my purse was so light because it didn't have a book in it. That's right, I finished The Alcoholic this morning, and I had nothing particular picked out to read next, and there I was facing two hour-plus subway rides BOOKLESS. That's an especially terrible position, because you really can't take a risk, you know? I mean, what if I picked out a bad book and was forced to be alone with it for two hours?
Luckily I grabbed a good one. Winner of the National Book Award is spectacularly wonderful, luridly wonderful, gaspingly wonderful—too wonderful, maybe, to even really review. It's just a purely terrific book. So solid. No meta frippery (okay, a smidge, but that's because Jincy is smart—so smart, in fact, that it doesn't even have to be read as meta when her characters talk about characters in books, because that kind of conversation is true to them, and honest, and believable). These characters sparkle. The dialogue is so real it's indistinguishable from life. The plot moves so quickly, so naturally, it's honestly hard to put the book down ever; I intentionally took the local train home from dinner, ratcheting my total subway (reading) time up to nearly three hours, just so I could spend a leetle more time with this lovely thing.
It's the kind of book that never lets you remember that you're actually reading, that unspools behind your eyes just as crisp and clear as beneath them. Brilliant. Wonderful. What a joy.
Luckily I grabbed a good one. Winner of the National Book Award is spectacularly wonderful, luridly wonderful, gaspingly wonderful—too wonderful, maybe, to even really review. It's just a purely terrific book. So solid. No meta frippery (okay, a smidge, but that's because Jincy is smart—so smart, in fact, that it doesn't even have to be read as meta when her characters talk about characters in books, because that kind of conversation is true to them, and honest, and believable). These characters sparkle. The dialogue is so real it's indistinguishable from life. The plot moves so quickly, so naturally, it's honestly hard to put the book down ever; I intentionally took the local train home from dinner, ratcheting my total subway (reading) time up to nearly three hours, just so I could spend a leetle more time with this lovely thing.
It's the kind of book that never lets you remember that you're actually reading, that unspools behind your eyes just as crisp and clear as beneath them. Brilliant. Wonderful. What a joy.
July 14, 2013
In most twin-sister pairings, there is the one who rides down the motorhighway in a Cadillac with her pantaloons on her head, hoot-yelling ‘Born to Run’ while her rock-drummer husband shoots hot loot into his eyelids, and the one who stays indoors eating square sausage listening to the lovely Martin Jarvis read from AS Byatt’s latest novel. My own twin sisters are no different: Xanthippe likes nothing better than to roar along the Ayr-to-Coatbridge byroads in her Citroen 2CV screaming along to the collected works of Republica, while Katy-Lou stays indoors and eats frankfurters in front of reruns of The Waltons, content in her cross-legged rug-huggling virginity while daddy foot-rubs her back from the sofa. This book? My ex-friend knows the author and recommended her to me as a poisonously funny humorist, so here we are. The novel swings between forgivably earnest and wildly anarchic and hilarious. A dollop of literary satire, impassioned book love, and sensationally witty dialogue makes this book as tremendous as the title. She has a new one: Amy Falls Down.
September 22, 2008
"Winner" is a book that suffers from bad advertising. I was promised a black comedy. "Riotous. Hugely funny..." and "The funniest novel I have read, possibly ever" appear right there on the cover.
The book was certainly sarcastic. It was caustic and biting but there was very little in the book that I could laugh at in good conscience. (And honestly, during reading, I wasn't inclined to do so.) In many ways, it was more like a car wreck on the highway - horrific but engrossing - than anything else.
Ms. Willett's main characters, twins Dorcas and Abigail, area a fascinating pair. Each completely embody the part of the human condition that the other lacks. "Winner" is the story of their interactions with each other and the members of a New England literary circle made up arch-typical characters.
Through my entire reading, I was off balance. I kept expecting 'funny' to show up and it never did. That said, "Winner" had other redeeming qualities which kept me reading. Ms. Willet gives Dorcas, the bookish narrator, wonderful recollections and descriptions of the joy of reading. The relationships between the people in a group and between the sisters were exaggerated for effect, but still intriguing.
Other parts of "Winner" were less successful. There were bits of extraneous metaphor and occasional clunky bits. Occasionally certain characters verged on caricatures.
I understand what Ms. Willett was attempting to skewer but in the end, "Winner" falls a bit short. If I had come at "Winner" with different expectations I might have found it more enjoyable, but I never shook the feeling of being a bit cheated by a novel that failed to deliver on its promises.
The book was certainly sarcastic. It was caustic and biting but there was very little in the book that I could laugh at in good conscience. (And honestly, during reading, I wasn't inclined to do so.) In many ways, it was more like a car wreck on the highway - horrific but engrossing - than anything else.
Ms. Willett's main characters, twins Dorcas and Abigail, area a fascinating pair. Each completely embody the part of the human condition that the other lacks. "Winner" is the story of their interactions with each other and the members of a New England literary circle made up arch-typical characters.
Through my entire reading, I was off balance. I kept expecting 'funny' to show up and it never did. That said, "Winner" had other redeeming qualities which kept me reading. Ms. Willet gives Dorcas, the bookish narrator, wonderful recollections and descriptions of the joy of reading. The relationships between the people in a group and between the sisters were exaggerated for effect, but still intriguing.
Other parts of "Winner" were less successful. There were bits of extraneous metaphor and occasional clunky bits. Occasionally certain characters verged on caricatures.
I understand what Ms. Willett was attempting to skewer but in the end, "Winner" falls a bit short. If I had come at "Winner" with different expectations I might have found it more enjoyable, but I never shook the feeling of being a bit cheated by a novel that failed to deliver on its promises.
September 1, 2008
Perverse of me, I know, but I don't find gang rape, anorexia, and domestic violence to be the stuff of comedy--- and yet this book is trumpeted on its cover as " Riotous... hugely funny..., " [Janet Maslin], "The funniest novel I have read, possibly ever..." [Augusten Burroughs.] "Hilarious black comedy..." The Miami Herald. {From this we may deduce that blurbers don't really read the books they describe.) Oh, this book is black, all right, and it tries to be funny. It's a kind of Very Depressed Bridget Jones meets Lifetime TV, with lots of sadomasochism thrown in. There's a bit of 'Wuthering Heights' tossed in, as well. The two principal male characters are as loathsome a duo as you're likely to encounter in broad daylight. Conrad Lowe, ("con," "low"---get it?), is the worst of the two. He's terribly abusive, both physically and verbally, and yet he's irresistible (how???) to the mousy librarian protagonist AND her sicko sister, who marries him.
Not funny. Not funny at all.
I won't mention the awkward conceit with which the author frames the narrative, the coming of the hurricane Pandora to the small town in Rhode Island that is the setting of the book. And see, I didn't mention how such a device managed to be both obvious and extraneous at the same time.
I anticipated this book with great cheer, because I'd read and found delicious Willett's 'The Writing Class.' I finished it because I kept thinking it HAD to get better. Reader, it didn't.
Not funny. Not funny at all.
I won't mention the awkward conceit with which the author frames the narrative, the coming of the hurricane Pandora to the small town in Rhode Island that is the setting of the book. And see, I didn't mention how such a device managed to be both obvious and extraneous at the same time.
I anticipated this book with great cheer, because I'd read and found delicious Willett's 'The Writing Class.' I finished it because I kept thinking it HAD to get better. Reader, it didn't.
September 10, 2007
Recommended from a list of "Best Books You've Never Heard Of" from the New York Times.
Whoever recommended this particular book for the list was way way off the mark.
This is also the book that made me realize that I should go to the library more often to avoid wasting money on horrible, pointless books. The author promises interesting, wicked characters, but only provides brief, shadowy outlines. This book has the plot of a Margaret Atwood or Oates novel without the layers of complexity or any of emotional impact. Horrible!
Whoever recommended this particular book for the list was way way off the mark.
This is also the book that made me realize that I should go to the library more often to avoid wasting money on horrible, pointless books. The author promises interesting, wicked characters, but only provides brief, shadowy outlines. This book has the plot of a Margaret Atwood or Oates novel without the layers of complexity or any of emotional impact. Horrible!
May 23, 2008
Jincy Willett, author of the short story collection Jenny and the Jaws of Life — which includes "Ask Betty," possibly the funniest short story ever written — published this novel in 2003.
Maybe I should be cautious about recommending this book. I suggested it to my sister, who in turn suggested it to her women's reading group — some of whom, after reading the first chapters, were ready to riot. And as you can see from the other reviews, it's not everyone's cup of tea.
So yes, it's "politically incorrect." It's also hilarious, original and strangely compassionate. Any book lover will immediately sympathize with the asexual Dorcas, librarian and plain spinster to her sexpot sister Abigail. Beware of reading it in public or while you're eating. I read the chapter about the Great Swamp Fight in a cafe, and was laughing so hard coffee was coming out my nose. Not pretty.
Maybe I should be cautious about recommending this book. I suggested it to my sister, who in turn suggested it to her women's reading group — some of whom, after reading the first chapters, were ready to riot. And as you can see from the other reviews, it's not everyone's cup of tea.
So yes, it's "politically incorrect." It's also hilarious, original and strangely compassionate. Any book lover will immediately sympathize with the asexual Dorcas, librarian and plain spinster to her sexpot sister Abigail. Beware of reading it in public or while you're eating. I read the chapter about the Great Swamp Fight in a cafe, and was laughing so hard coffee was coming out my nose. Not pretty.
April 1, 2025
I loved this quirky, strange book! It adds to my respect and love for Jincy Willett's writing. It might not be for everyone -- but it was for me :)
January 7, 2013
The inimitable narrator, Dorcas (Dork) of this…well, fable, really… says,
And ain’t that the [unvarnished Yankee] truth? Dorcas, daughter of the Mayflower, sister ofAphrodite Abigail, lover of no man, librarian extraordinaire, tries to be just and fair, but in the end finds within herself unexplored nooks and unfathomable depths. It is a family story, this, and of twins no less. Twins that are close but don’t tell each other everything:
I could go on quoting from this book all day. My copy is porcupined with post-its, pointing to some character-defining passage, or choice of phrase, or turning point. Jincy Willett has a unique phraseology. But she is a storyteller most of all, and she has created characters that grow and change and get bruised and fight back and in the end, surprise us all.
So the story, as such, is this: two character-opposite sisters live in a small Rhode Island town. A very strange humanoid is introduced, which changes everything.
“[Many postmodern writers] have little respect for character. [They] carry on as though the human personality were some trivial thing, and it’s not, it’s not, it’s everything. It’s the great mystery…We can make predictions about our own behavior based on what we’ve done in the past, and how we feel about it now, and what niggling horrors we come awake to at three o’clock in the morning, but they’re only predictions.
We don’t even know if we’re good, until it’s all over, and then it’s too late. We can be decent our whole lives and then at the last minute do some inexplicable unforgivable thing.”
And ain’t that the [unvarnished Yankee] truth? Dorcas, daughter of the Mayflower, sister of
“we rarely got personal. Twins are hypersensitive about that sort of thing. We are intimate enough by our very natures. We don’t like to push it. Most people are alone in their lifeboats, for the duration of their lives; twins share theirs, and so our lifeboats have deck plans, drawn up over time, it isn’t all shared space. It couldn’t be. You’d go nuts.”
I could go on quoting from this book all day. My copy is porcupined with post-its, pointing to some character-defining passage, or choice of phrase, or turning point. Jincy Willett has a unique phraseology. But she is a storyteller most of all, and she has created characters that grow and change and get bruised and fight back and in the end, surprise us all.
So the story, as such, is this: two character-opposite sisters live in a small Rhode Island town. A very strange humanoid is introduced, which changes everything.
July 16, 2010
Paradoxically, ironically, or just plain unfortunately, I actually found this book disappointing at first because of the TOTES OTT blurbs on the front of the book. "The funniest novel I have read, possibly ever," exuberates Augusten Burroughs. Well, Augusten needs to get out more—or, more accurately, stay in reading more.
Despite this lackluster start, as I got into the novel I liked it better and better. Dorcas and Abigail are the classic Gothic characters, Merricat and Constance if they were in their forties and had grown up in Rhode Island. It's Harper Lee made Yankee (not nearly caustic enough to claim heritage from Flannery O'Connor)—in fact, it's so Yankee that it prides itself on saying how fake the whole concept of "Yankee" is. And librarian spinster sister Dorcas does come out with some solid Wildean zingers:
[Though to be completely scrupulous, Dorcas wouldn't have used an apostrophe in the plural. The Mcs and Macs. ANYway—:]
Really fun, distracting way to kill two hours, with lots of nice little layered references. And a librarian heroine? I am ALL OVER that. Considering creating a course syllabus of fiction with sister/twin characters...this one more self-aware than most novels in how it splits up their personalities into Athene and Aphrodite archetypes.
Despite this lackluster start, as I got into the novel I liked it better and better. Dorcas and Abigail are the classic Gothic characters, Merricat and Constance if they were in their forties and had grown up in Rhode Island. It's Harper Lee made Yankee (not nearly caustic enough to claim heritage from Flannery O'Connor)—in fact, it's so Yankee that it prides itself on saying how fake the whole concept of "Yankee" is. And librarian spinster sister Dorcas does come out with some solid Wildean zingers:
I spent my next hour reshelving, and the next thirty minutes straightening out the Mc's and Mac's. Nobody on God's earth understands the Mc/Mac principle anymore. In other to do that, you have to be willing to think about something other than your genitals for a full minute.
[Though to be completely scrupulous, Dorcas wouldn't have used an apostrophe in the plural. The Mcs and Macs. ANYway—:]
"I am become Death," Guy intoned. "Destroyer of worlds…" Guy often quoted J. Robert Oppenheimer quoting the Bhavagad [sic:] Gita when he'd had too much to drink.
Really fun, distracting way to kill two hours, with lots of nice little layered references. And a librarian heroine? I am ALL OVER that. Considering creating a course syllabus of fiction with sister/twin characters...this one more self-aware than most novels in how it splits up their personalities into Athene and Aphrodite archetypes.
October 18, 2014
I really should have put this in the "I stopped reading" category but I hated it so much that I felt I needed to write a review.
It is one of the most depressing books I've read, in memory. First, it revolves around a plot of massive domestic violence. Sad, in it's own right, Sadder when it is the main plot device for a supposed satire or comedy of manners of a New England "Yankee" town and family.
This book fails, utterly, at being the least bit funny or even satirical (and I will admit to not being a huge fan of satire).
It plods along in its disjointed way describing the most dysfunctional of families. Ending, I'm guessing, with the murder of a psychopathic writer (the author of the "Winner of the National Book Award" the book is titled for) by the badly abused wife.
I fell for the marketing hype and blather in the description of the book on Amazon and on Goodreads. I guess I must not be high brow enough to enjoy a book filled with ridiculously stupid characters with no redeeming social value.
It is one of the most depressing books I've read, in memory. First, it revolves around a plot of massive domestic violence. Sad, in it's own right, Sadder when it is the main plot device for a supposed satire or comedy of manners of a New England "Yankee" town and family.
This book fails, utterly, at being the least bit funny or even satirical (and I will admit to not being a huge fan of satire).
It plods along in its disjointed way describing the most dysfunctional of families. Ending, I'm guessing, with the murder of a psychopathic writer (the author of the "Winner of the National Book Award" the book is titled for) by the badly abused wife.
I fell for the marketing hype and blather in the description of the book on Amazon and on Goodreads. I guess I must not be high brow enough to enjoy a book filled with ridiculously stupid characters with no redeeming social value.
September 25, 2012
I'm not sure what to say about this book except that it has one of the most original characters, speaking in one of the most original voices, that I have ever read. I loved "Dork" and her skewering of everyone and everything. Nothing is sacred -- except, everything is. Or something. The ridiculousness of the sublime, would be one way to put it.
Some of the characters in this book are completely hateful, and to some folks that could include Dorcas, our trusty narrator, and her twin sister, Abigail, who is truly a piece of work. Dorcas does such a good job introducing everyone that I don't feel required to duplicate her efforts. I laughed out loud more in the first six pages of this book than I had in the entire previous day.
Some of the characters in this book are completely hateful, and to some folks that could include Dorcas, our trusty narrator, and her twin sister, Abigail, who is truly a piece of work. Dorcas does such a good job introducing everyone that I don't feel required to duplicate her efforts. I laughed out loud more in the first six pages of this book than I had in the entire previous day.
November 14, 2012
Truly excellent novel! I'm baffled that I have never heard of Jincy Willett before now. I shall quote another reviewer who wrote, "This book is spectacularly wonderful, luridly wonderful, gaspingly wonderful, too wonderful, maybe, to even review." I, too, have no idea how to describe what is wonderful about this novel without taking away from its wonderfulness.*
*My only complaint was that the ending was no fun and felt somewhat contrived, but I confess that I am rarely satisfied with the endings of novels.
*My only complaint was that the ending was no fun and felt somewhat contrived, but I confess that I am rarely satisfied with the endings of novels.
May 1, 2022
If you pick this up to read it--read it with a sense of wry humor!
It's hyperbolic, sarcastic, and is meant to make fun of some of the very books that win the book awards.
Why didn't I give it more stars? Well, although I think I understand the 'poking-fun-at-a-genre humor', I didn't think it did the best job at it. Too many people read it who didn't get the sarcasm (me included at first) and so I don't think Willett did the novel she must have meant to.
It's hyperbolic, sarcastic, and is meant to make fun of some of the very books that win the book awards.
Why didn't I give it more stars? Well, although I think I understand the 'poking-fun-at-a-genre humor', I didn't think it did the best job at it. Too many people read it who didn't get the sarcasm (me included at first) and so I don't think Willett did the novel she must have meant to.
April 1, 2010
It had some interesting parts and I could relate to the librarian's love of books, but overall I REALLY didn't like it. I was pleased by the intersting writing as it started. Soon into it, I got to a chapter all about someone's sexual perversions and I knew it was a mistake, but I had to see how it ended -my shortcoming when it comes to fiction- so I read the rest of the book- skimming and reading.
My advice: just don't start it.
My advice: just don't start it.
April 15, 2021
I loved this book. I do think it's one of those, "You either love it or you hate it," kind of books. I loved the device the author used, the writing, the characters (in the way you love characters you hate), and the tone of the book. Creative. Dark. Humorous. Sultry. Thought-provoking.
June 4, 2019
a lot of the blurbs talk about how hilarious this was. I found parts of it funny but it was actually quite dark. the writing was skillful in that it starts out and you think, ok, the narrator is a twin. she's an asexual librarian, her fraternal twin sister is all about sex. neither one of them is particularly about love, but they both get taken in in that direction by the same predatory man. anyway, when the book starts you get the idea she's not too fond of her sister, but actually it turns out that their bond is extremely strong and they complement each other perfectly. the only part this sort of gradual unfurling of perspective didn't work for me was when they talked about how they both raised her sister's child together. there were a lot of chapters that just mentioned the child's existence, but not the narrator's relationship to her, then suddenly it turned out she was a second mother to her and her only other parent. that felt abrupt, but the rest of it was well done.
I also give it kudos for portraying a fat person dieting and becoming a skinny person as a negative thing, and talking about how she looked drained and washed out and not herself and diminished and not amazing! and thin! fat positivity, especially in a context where her sister is naturally a thinner body type, is too rare.
I also give it kudos for portraying a fat person dieting and becoming a skinny person as a negative thing, and talking about how she looked drained and washed out and not herself and diminished and not amazing! and thin! fat positivity, especially in a context where her sister is naturally a thinner body type, is too rare.
January 8, 2023
Unusual tale of very, very different twin sisters of a certain age involved with some rather shady characters. I love the genuine feel for the Rhode Island setting, and the narrative voice of the bookish twin is both fresh and darkly funny.
June 9, 2012
The thing is, I picked up this book because of the bold title. Who names their book "Winner of the National Book Award"? Surely someone who takes risks and has a wicked sense of humor. It sold me, it worked. And I do believe Willett is capable of those things. The problem is, this book reads like a first draft. It's a jumble of great ideas and clever punchlines that get lost in masturbatory prose, poorly developed characters and a weak framework.
The story focuses on twin sisters Dorcas and Abigail. A man comes between them, Abigail kills him, goes to jail awaiting trial, and Dorcas (a librarian) sits down to read her sister's newly published biography. Each chapter (mostly) begins with the opening paragraph of each chapter of the bio until Dorcas butts in and tells her own version of the events.
The biggest "uh-oh" moment I had as a reader was when I reached a particularly clever line spoken by Dorcas about "power and dignity." I even went to underline it. And then Willett spent the rest of the book patting herself on the back for being so clever. It was unbecoming, at best. It only highlighted to me how clever Willett thinks she is in general, and the constant comparisons of her characters to mythical heroes and beasts were insufferable by the end.
There is no discernible character arc for Dorcas or the intruding man or...any of the other characters except for Abigail. I felt no empathy whatsoever for any of the characters - none were endearing and none had qualities I could connect with. Dorcas, arguably the main character, consistently made unexplained choices that only made her unlikeable and unpredictable. This, if I had to choose one thing, is Willett's fatal flaw. There are countless side characters, NONE of which have anything to do with the plot. And you know Chekhov's gun rule? "One must not put a loaded rifle on the stage if no one is thinking of firing it." That one. There were about 18 figurative guns in this book, and none of them were fired.
Finally, in theory, the framework is clever, but in practice Dorcas gives away too much of the story of the murder for the reader to care about getting to the end. There's no surprise - no drama. Save yourself the time and don't bother picking this up.
The story focuses on twin sisters Dorcas and Abigail. A man comes between them, Abigail kills him, goes to jail awaiting trial, and Dorcas (a librarian) sits down to read her sister's newly published biography. Each chapter (mostly) begins with the opening paragraph of each chapter of the bio until Dorcas butts in and tells her own version of the events.
The biggest "uh-oh" moment I had as a reader was when I reached a particularly clever line spoken by Dorcas about "power and dignity." I even went to underline it. And then Willett spent the rest of the book patting herself on the back for being so clever. It was unbecoming, at best. It only highlighted to me how clever Willett thinks she is in general, and the constant comparisons of her characters to mythical heroes and beasts were insufferable by the end.
There is no discernible character arc for Dorcas or the intruding man or...any of the other characters except for Abigail. I felt no empathy whatsoever for any of the characters - none were endearing and none had qualities I could connect with. Dorcas, arguably the main character, consistently made unexplained choices that only made her unlikeable and unpredictable. This, if I had to choose one thing, is Willett's fatal flaw. There are countless side characters, NONE of which have anything to do with the plot. And you know Chekhov's gun rule? "One must not put a loaded rifle on the stage if no one is thinking of firing it." That one. There were about 18 figurative guns in this book, and none of them were fired.
Finally, in theory, the framework is clever, but in practice Dorcas gives away too much of the story of the murder for the reader to care about getting to the end. There's no surprise - no drama. Save yourself the time and don't bother picking this up.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
June 6, 2022
I enjoy a lot of authors. I enjoy authors who are strong on prose, who are great at worldbuilding, who create interesting characters, who set up a satisfying finale with crowning moments of awesome. I also like slower, literary authors who can make you examine people and society with great, sprawling melodramatic narrative arcs with multiple side plots and secondary characters. I'm a pretty omnivorous reader, is what I'm saying, and for all that I can be pretty judgmental about what I read (oh, who am I kidding, I enjoy being judgmental), I like my crappy potboilers and guilty pleasures as much as I like my epic SF&F series or timeless literary masterpieces.
But there are not many writers who make me wish I could write like them, and Jincy Willett is one of those writers, and I think Winner of the National Book Award is a near-perfect book.
I can understand why it's little-read and the reviews are ambivalent. The story itself does not exactly grab you. Set in a small town in Rhode Island in the late 70s/early 80s, two fraternal sisters, as unlike as can be, grow up amidst the drama caused by Abigail's voracious sexual appetites and the keen observational powers of her asexual bookish sister Dorcas. Yes, Dorcas. This like the most hilariously, ostentatiously unostentatious New England novel ever. Winner of the National Book Award is about a pair of ridiculous literary figures, a horrible, manipulative, misogynistic cad, the town slut, and a really bad marriage, all told through the eyes of Dorcas, a librarian who, in her own words, was born to be an old maid.
So why do I think this is a perfect book?
Jincy Willett first grabbed my attention with The Writing Class, in which she, a little-known writer with some early literary acclaim who apparently slipped into semi-obscurity, wrote a book whose main character is a little-known writer with some early literary acclaim who slipped into semi-obscurity. And through the device of the writing class that her main character, Amy, teaches, and Willet's ability to brilliantly mimic many different writing styles, from the hapless Stephen King wannabe to the pretentious MFA grad, Willett gives us a story that begs the reader to say "Haha, you are totally writing a clever parody in which the main character is basically a self-insert" and gently mocks the reader who would make those sorts of inferences. It's a great story with a perfectly delivered narrative arc which also winks at the meta and knows you're seeing the wink.
Winner of the National Book Award was an earlier novel (in fact, I believe it's Willet's first novel, though apparently she published a collection of short stories before this), and it feels not quite as clever and polished as her later books. But it is still clever and polished indeed.
Let's start with how she constructs the tale. We begin with Dorcas, sitting down in her library as a hurricane is approaching the town. She has a stack of new arrivals to catalog and shelve, and only someone as dedicated - and spinsterish, with no family waiting at home, and also perhaps needing a distraction - would be sitting in a soon-to-lose power library with an approaching hurricane, looking at books. It turns out one of those books is actually the hot-off-the-presses "biographical"/true crime story of her sister, Abigail, who is at this very moment sitting in prison awaiting trial for the murder of her late husband, Conrad Lowe.
See, all of this is revealed about Dorcas even before we get into the meat of the story, and the flashbacks, and the stories of her and Abigail's childhood. And right up front, Jincy Willett gives us the hook, the story's climax. We know from the beginning that Abigail is going to marry a guy she's then going to murder. But we don't know the hows or whys or what really happened, and that's the promise waiting for us at the end as we go through their life stories, all related to us within this framework of a (very bad, sensationalist, barely true) book written by a silly, pretentious friend of theirs about Abigail's tragic fate, being angrily read by Dorcas over the course of a stormy day.
The weather is symbolic. Willett uses a blizzard in the denouement of Abigail's story, wrapped within the hurricane that starts and ends the entire book.
But this book isn't just about clever structuring and meta-narrative. It's also full of perfectly human characters, awful, ridiculous, loveable, delusional, decent or trying to be decent, or just ordinary and boring. Dorcas we get to know as well as she knows herself, possibly better. Abigail we come to know through Dorcas's eyes. Abigail is fat and luscious and revels in being the town slut and scandalizing her professionally virginal sister, who "took a long look around at the age of twelve and decided, nope," and yet the two of them understand each other perfectly and hide nothing from one another, at least until Conrad Lowe comes around.
Conrad Lowe's friend Guy DeVilbiss is the perfect realization of a pretentious literary writer unsuited to being forced to interact with anything real, and his ridiculous wife Hilda, who is the life model for all the fat, unsexy busts and nude sculptures decorating their house, is exactly who you'd expect to write a feminist-glossed Wronged Woman Revenges Herself shlockterpiece about Abigail. Abigail held Hilda in contempt, and Dorcas sees Abigail smirking behind the words Hilda writes, and comments wryly, sometimes angrily, sometimes bemusedly, at what Abigail fed their authoress friend.
Conrad Lowe is a perfect villain, a really nasty piece of shit right from the beginning, and Dorcas watches as her sister, the shameless sex-goddess Abigail whose heart cannot be captured by any man, falls under his spell. Conrad Lowe isn't just a misogynistic cad: his hatred of women runs long and deep, and Abigail perceives, just in a "funny" little anecdote her future brother-in-law tells her about how he gave up his medical practice - he was a gynecologist (!!!) - that this is a man who will literally spend years playing a long game just to hurt women. In small, petty, banal ways, not in any kind of monstrous, violent way. He doesn't want to kill or beat women. He wants to destroy them, to stomp their hearts and shred their souls. All while smiling his Lothario leading man grin. Dorcas sees this, knows it, recognizes the danger and watches her sister Abigail pulled in by his gravity and lose herself without ever quite breaking... and still the final move, the endgame, is one she somehow doesn't see coming.
Willet's prose is literary and funny and human and Dorcas is razor-sharp and a keen observer of fellow humans and only a little bit, willfully, blind to a few unexamined dark corners in her own heart.
So yes, this is a nearly perfect book and while it's not my genre, not my style, and not the sort of the book I'd ever write, it's the sort of book I wish I could write.
#jincywilletfanboy
But there are not many writers who make me wish I could write like them, and Jincy Willett is one of those writers, and I think Winner of the National Book Award is a near-perfect book.
I can understand why it's little-read and the reviews are ambivalent. The story itself does not exactly grab you. Set in a small town in Rhode Island in the late 70s/early 80s, two fraternal sisters, as unlike as can be, grow up amidst the drama caused by Abigail's voracious sexual appetites and the keen observational powers of her asexual bookish sister Dorcas. Yes, Dorcas. This like the most hilariously, ostentatiously unostentatious New England novel ever. Winner of the National Book Award is about a pair of ridiculous literary figures, a horrible, manipulative, misogynistic cad, the town slut, and a really bad marriage, all told through the eyes of Dorcas, a librarian who, in her own words, was born to be an old maid.
So why do I think this is a perfect book?
Jincy Willett first grabbed my attention with The Writing Class, in which she, a little-known writer with some early literary acclaim who apparently slipped into semi-obscurity, wrote a book whose main character is a little-known writer with some early literary acclaim who slipped into semi-obscurity. And through the device of the writing class that her main character, Amy, teaches, and Willet's ability to brilliantly mimic many different writing styles, from the hapless Stephen King wannabe to the pretentious MFA grad, Willett gives us a story that begs the reader to say "Haha, you are totally writing a clever parody in which the main character is basically a self-insert" and gently mocks the reader who would make those sorts of inferences. It's a great story with a perfectly delivered narrative arc which also winks at the meta and knows you're seeing the wink.
Winner of the National Book Award was an earlier novel (in fact, I believe it's Willet's first novel, though apparently she published a collection of short stories before this), and it feels not quite as clever and polished as her later books. But it is still clever and polished indeed.
Let's start with how she constructs the tale. We begin with Dorcas, sitting down in her library as a hurricane is approaching the town. She has a stack of new arrivals to catalog and shelve, and only someone as dedicated - and spinsterish, with no family waiting at home, and also perhaps needing a distraction - would be sitting in a soon-to-lose power library with an approaching hurricane, looking at books. It turns out one of those books is actually the hot-off-the-presses "biographical"/true crime story of her sister, Abigail, who is at this very moment sitting in prison awaiting trial for the murder of her late husband, Conrad Lowe.
See, all of this is revealed about Dorcas even before we get into the meat of the story, and the flashbacks, and the stories of her and Abigail's childhood. And right up front, Jincy Willett gives us the hook, the story's climax. We know from the beginning that Abigail is going to marry a guy she's then going to murder. But we don't know the hows or whys or what really happened, and that's the promise waiting for us at the end as we go through their life stories, all related to us within this framework of a (very bad, sensationalist, barely true) book written by a silly, pretentious friend of theirs about Abigail's tragic fate, being angrily read by Dorcas over the course of a stormy day.
The weather is symbolic. Willett uses a blizzard in the denouement of Abigail's story, wrapped within the hurricane that starts and ends the entire book.
But this book isn't just about clever structuring and meta-narrative. It's also full of perfectly human characters, awful, ridiculous, loveable, delusional, decent or trying to be decent, or just ordinary and boring. Dorcas we get to know as well as she knows herself, possibly better. Abigail we come to know through Dorcas's eyes. Abigail is fat and luscious and revels in being the town slut and scandalizing her professionally virginal sister, who "took a long look around at the age of twelve and decided, nope," and yet the two of them understand each other perfectly and hide nothing from one another, at least until Conrad Lowe comes around.
Conrad Lowe's friend Guy DeVilbiss is the perfect realization of a pretentious literary writer unsuited to being forced to interact with anything real, and his ridiculous wife Hilda, who is the life model for all the fat, unsexy busts and nude sculptures decorating their house, is exactly who you'd expect to write a feminist-glossed Wronged Woman Revenges Herself shlockterpiece about Abigail. Abigail held Hilda in contempt, and Dorcas sees Abigail smirking behind the words Hilda writes, and comments wryly, sometimes angrily, sometimes bemusedly, at what Abigail fed their authoress friend.
Conrad Lowe is a perfect villain, a really nasty piece of shit right from the beginning, and Dorcas watches as her sister, the shameless sex-goddess Abigail whose heart cannot be captured by any man, falls under his spell. Conrad Lowe isn't just a misogynistic cad: his hatred of women runs long and deep, and Abigail perceives, just in a "funny" little anecdote her future brother-in-law tells her about how he gave up his medical practice - he was a gynecologist (!!!) - that this is a man who will literally spend years playing a long game just to hurt women. In small, petty, banal ways, not in any kind of monstrous, violent way. He doesn't want to kill or beat women. He wants to destroy them, to stomp their hearts and shred their souls. All while smiling his Lothario leading man grin. Dorcas sees this, knows it, recognizes the danger and watches her sister Abigail pulled in by his gravity and lose herself without ever quite breaking... and still the final move, the endgame, is one she somehow doesn't see coming.
Willet's prose is literary and funny and human and Dorcas is razor-sharp and a keen observer of fellow humans and only a little bit, willfully, blind to a few unexamined dark corners in her own heart.
So yes, this is a nearly perfect book and while it's not my genre, not my style, and not the sort of the book I'd ever write, it's the sort of book I wish I could write.
#jincywilletfanboy
December 4, 2007
This book was a selection of the book club I belong to.
I usually prefer novels where I admire or at least sympathize with the protagonist or other characters. That was not the case here. Yet I enjoyed it enough to consider rating it at five stars. (I didn't, as I reserve five stars for the best of the best.) I wouldn't say I loved this book, but I did like it very much.
What was good about it? I loved the discussions of Dorcas, the narrator librarian, about books, reading, readers, writing and writers. I found the writing style to be frank and easy, and to flow well. It was anecdotal without becoming tedious. And although I never actually laughed aloud, it was definitely funny in a dry cynical way.
Ms. Willett's dialog was excellent, and she presents her characters thoroughly by example rather than description. Although many of the characters and plot events are wildly exaggerated, making the novel a satire of "Oprah's Book Club" style fiction, yet they are weirdly authentic.
I liked neither the sister protagonists nor most of the cast, yet they seemed to make sense, and reminded me of the some (admittedly strange) social circles in my own life. Perhaps what touched me the most, was the portrayal of different female sexual experiences in our culture. The twin sisters are each other's yin and yang, extreme (unrealistically so?) opposites, but together the present a flawed but human whole. The storm metaphor evoked at the beginning and end worked very well in my opinion.
Out of 7 club members, 6 of us liked this book. I would especially recommend to women with some life experience (in their 30's and 40's) and to any "voracious" readers like myself.
I usually prefer novels where I admire or at least sympathize with the protagonist or other characters. That was not the case here. Yet I enjoyed it enough to consider rating it at five stars. (I didn't, as I reserve five stars for the best of the best.) I wouldn't say I loved this book, but I did like it very much.
What was good about it? I loved the discussions of Dorcas, the narrator librarian, about books, reading, readers, writing and writers. I found the writing style to be frank and easy, and to flow well. It was anecdotal without becoming tedious. And although I never actually laughed aloud, it was definitely funny in a dry cynical way.
Ms. Willett's dialog was excellent, and she presents her characters thoroughly by example rather than description. Although many of the characters and plot events are wildly exaggerated, making the novel a satire of "Oprah's Book Club" style fiction, yet they are weirdly authentic.
I liked neither the sister protagonists nor most of the cast, yet they seemed to make sense, and reminded me of the some (admittedly strange) social circles in my own life. Perhaps what touched me the most, was the portrayal of different female sexual experiences in our culture. The twin sisters are each other's yin and yang, extreme (unrealistically so?) opposites, but together the present a flawed but human whole. The storm metaphor evoked at the beginning and end worked very well in my opinion.
Out of 7 club members, 6 of us liked this book. I would especially recommend to women with some life experience (in their 30's and 40's) and to any "voracious" readers like myself.
February 17, 2009
Winner of the National Book Award, is blurbed as “scabrously funny” and as a “sharp original satire.” I have to agree that the book is clever and bitingly witty – it tells the story of twin sisters, Dorcus and Abigail Mather, and of Abigail’s disastrous marriage – which led to murder (no spoilers – this is all in the first few pages). Dorcus, the dry and controlled librarian spinster to Abigail's fierce libido, tells the story and cuts down everything in her path. She has no patience for anyone’s pretensions and sees through everything. Her bit on the people who destroy library books alone is worth the price of admission – at least to a book worm. Both Dorcus and the book are hilarious – the New York Times Book Review said that Willett “writes for the joy for reading, not for the puffed up prize of having written” and while that is totally pretentious and New York Times-y, I agree that this book is reads like the kind of book the author wished someone had written, and since they hadn’t, she did it herself.
But I guess I am a softie, or perhaps the blurb-picker at Picador hadn’t actually read the book – because I think that beyond the humor is a story of a two women bound by love, and of Dorcus’ principles and all sorts of real things that distinguish Winner of the National Book Award, as funny as it is, from a "humor" type book. It is a satire, but it’s more, and that is part of what makes it so good. It’s frightening, and horrifying and brave and kind – and also a hoot. I look forward to more Willett
But I guess I am a softie, or perhaps the blurb-picker at Picador hadn’t actually read the book – because I think that beyond the humor is a story of a two women bound by love, and of Dorcus’ principles and all sorts of real things that distinguish Winner of the National Book Award, as funny as it is, from a "humor" type book. It is a satire, but it’s more, and that is part of what makes it so good. It’s frightening, and horrifying and brave and kind – and also a hoot. I look forward to more Willett
January 11, 2012
Despite what the title insists, Jincey Willet’s fictional novel did not receive the national book award… or any other award for that matter. Doesn’t matter though. Accolades aren’t always necessary, and Jincey Willet is just one example of an underrated American author. Her latest novel oscillates between quirky and disturbing. The story, set in Rhode Island, chronicles the life of two twin sisters that are polar opposites. The story is narrated by the older sister, Dorcas; the cynical, intellectual one of dyad. Dorcas’ sister, Abigail, lives solely for pleasure and sensation. The truly disturbing portion unfolds when Abigail begins her marriage with her masochist husband Conrad. In all honesty, the brutality and insanity of Abigail’s life was a bit much for me. The downward spiral of her Abigail’s eating disorder and the haughty attitudes of all her erudite friends made me terribly sad. And poor Dorcas! A librarian who lived a life through reading books without ever experiencing her own story! Though Dorcas has great insight (thanks to all the books she’s read) and has a dry, New England wittiness about her, this is NOT a read for the Holidays. Jincey Willet is a fantastic writer, but may be a bit outlandish for most of the people I know. You may want to consider it for when you’re feeling a bit introverted and solemn. You’ll laugh a bit, but mostly you’ll be left re-thinking the imminent trip you’ve planned to Rhode Island. If that peninsula is filled with the kind of people Dorcas encounters, then you’d be better off heading to Maine.
August 12, 2019
Uproariously funny, with a narrative voice uniquely, hysterically sarcastic and dry. It's all about tone, not punchlines, and probably not everyone's cup of tea, but the less you know going in, the better. I'll therefore shut up before unintentionally revealing more.
July 23, 2014
I have many thoughts about this book. Here are some of them, in no particular order:
1. I ended up liking this book a lot more than I thought I would. In fact, it wasn't until about two-thirds of the way through that it really started to strike a note with me. Then it became, in a way, brilliant.
2. Many people have categorized this book as "humor." That is absolutely baffling to me. Sure, there are some funny moments, but I would in no way classify this book as humorous. It is at LEAST just a tragic as humorous. Probably much more so.
3. I think the intended audience for the book is hardcore book lovers. Not the casual reader, but more the Committed Reader. Yes, capitalized.
4. A lot of authors have this really annoying problem with female characters: they all end up one dimensional. That is absolutely not the case with this book, the female characters were, in my eyes, fascinating and in many ways, real. Sort of. The male characters, however... just, ugh. Eww. Ugh and eww.
1. I ended up liking this book a lot more than I thought I would. In fact, it wasn't until about two-thirds of the way through that it really started to strike a note with me. Then it became, in a way, brilliant.
2. Many people have categorized this book as "humor." That is absolutely baffling to me. Sure, there are some funny moments, but I would in no way classify this book as humorous. It is at LEAST just a tragic as humorous. Probably much more so.
3. I think the intended audience for the book is hardcore book lovers. Not the casual reader, but more the Committed Reader. Yes, capitalized.
4. A lot of authors have this really annoying problem with female characters: they all end up one dimensional. That is absolutely not the case with this book, the female characters were, in my eyes, fascinating and in many ways, real. Sort of. The male characters, however... just, ugh. Eww. Ugh and eww.
December 4, 2013
I think people should ignore every blurb that's on the cover of this book. It is emphatically not the funniest novel I've ever read, or even close -- Augusten Burroughs and I have different ideas of what "funny" means, maybe? -- but I nonetheless thought it was very good.
I also don't know why people call this a dark comedy, either. There's a particular person's death foreshadowed throughout, but that death in and of itself isn't much of a joke. I actually was a little bit glad of the death; there was an element of justice to it that was pretty clear all along.
The narrator is a crabby spinster librarian, somehow not quite cliche, and hugely enjoyable to read. I'm not sure everyone would embrace her as completely as I did, but I responded to her sarcasm, and to her abiding love of books, immediately.
I also don't know why people call this a dark comedy, either. There's a particular person's death foreshadowed throughout, but that death in and of itself isn't much of a joke. I actually was a little bit glad of the death; there was an element of justice to it that was pretty clear all along.
The narrator is a crabby spinster librarian, somehow not quite cliche, and hugely enjoyable to read. I'm not sure everyone would embrace her as completely as I did, but I responded to her sarcasm, and to her abiding love of books, immediately.
January 25, 2008
People either love this book or they hate it. They either read it between hoots of laughter or with a quizzical look and a "I don't get it."
I admit I like dark humor, sardonic wit, disdainful eavesdropping and solitude, so I completely got prudish and prim Dorcus Mather's dry, caustic observations about New Englanders, relationships, books and her mympho twin sister. Jincy Willet has done for Rhode Island what Fannie Flagg and Florence King did for the South -- obsreved, recorded and poked at it, called it what it is, and explained it to any outsider who cares to pick up on the clues.
I admit I like dark humor, sardonic wit, disdainful eavesdropping and solitude, so I completely got prudish and prim Dorcus Mather's dry, caustic observations about New Englanders, relationships, books and her mympho twin sister. Jincy Willet has done for Rhode Island what Fannie Flagg and Florence King did for the South -- obsreved, recorded and poked at it, called it what it is, and explained it to any outsider who cares to pick up on the clues.
April 29, 2009
The funniest thing about this book was its title. As one of the other commenters said, it really suffered from bad advertising -- if it had been billed as "biting" or "incredibly sarcastic" rather than "hilarious," maybe my expectations would have been different.
But as it stood, this story about the stereotypical brilliant spinster librarian was just so very meh. I liked Dorcas' character and clearly felt her revulsion for her twin sister, I liked the structure running parallel to the biography, I like that the spinster librarian was allowed to get trashed alone in her library on a weekend, but there was just no narrative tension.
But as it stood, this story about the stereotypical brilliant spinster librarian was just so very meh. I liked Dorcas' character and clearly felt her revulsion for her twin sister, I liked the structure running parallel to the biography, I like that the spinster librarian was allowed to get trashed alone in her library on a weekend, but there was just no narrative tension.
April 26, 2010
I think I would have gotten more out of this book if I hadn't read all the hyper blurbs all over the cover touting it as the funniest this and perfect that. Jincy Willett is an undeniably super witty writer, there were so many parts that had me laughing out loud. I really liked this story about fraternal twin sisters Dorcas the stereotypical sexless librarian and Abigail the sensual glutton, and the man who comes between them. My favorite parts were the hilarious descriptions of Rhode Islanders, and most of Dorcas's snarky barbs. What I didn't like was how anticlimactic the actual ending was. I want to read Willett's collection of short stories.
October 1, 2020
A better than average satire. The story of twin sisters - one who lives for yes and the other who lives for no and their titanic struggle with a really bad man. Not as hysterically funny as the blurb pants away but amusing in parts.
I maybe alone in rarely finding satire all that funny as it so often relies on parodies of characters who then become so lacking in nuance that they lose any humour. Willett’s funniest scenes for me are where she does retain some nuance especially the beginning of the book. And jokes about Rhode Island never get old.
I maybe alone in rarely finding satire all that funny as it so often relies on parodies of characters who then become so lacking in nuance that they lose any humour. Willett’s funniest scenes for me are where she does retain some nuance especially the beginning of the book. And jokes about Rhode Island never get old.
April 2, 2013
I would have given this one less than a star if it were possible.
This book had 10 short reviews, eight of which described the book as funny, even hilarious. So there's an expectation you'll laugh at least a couple times, right?
The only way I would use this book and the word funny in the same sentence would be to say "It's funny that this book was desecribed as humorous since it's doesn't even make the mildly amusing scale." Unless you enjoy making fun of the town slut or find women-hating men charming, don't bother with this one.
This book had 10 short reviews, eight of which described the book as funny, even hilarious. So there's an expectation you'll laugh at least a couple times, right?
The only way I would use this book and the word funny in the same sentence would be to say "It's funny that this book was desecribed as humorous since it's doesn't even make the mildly amusing scale." Unless you enjoy making fun of the town slut or find women-hating men charming, don't bother with this one.
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