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Sylvie wanted to believe that misery could simply be replaced with happiness. Time was a straight line, stretching out before you. If you could create a golden kind of time and lay it right beside the other time, the time of horror, Bad History could just recede into the distance without ever having to be resolved. -- from Torpor
Set at the dawn of the New World Order, Chris Kraus's third novel, Torpor loops back to the beginning of the decade that was the basis of I Love Dick, her pseudo-confessional cult-classic debut. It's summer, 1991, post-MTV, pre-AOL. Jerome Shafir and Sylvie Green, two former New Yorkers who can no longer afford an East Village apartment, set off on a journey across the entire former Soviet Bloc with the specious aim of adopting a Romanian orphan. Nirvana's on the radio everywhere, and wars are erupting across Yugoslavia.
Unhappily married to Jerome, a 53-year-old Columbia University professor who loathes academe, Sylvie thinks only of happiness. There are only two things, Sylvie thinks, that will save them: a child of their own, and the success of The Anthropology of Unhappiness, her husband's long-postponed book on the Holocaust. But as they move forward toward impoverished Romania, Jerome's memories of his father's extermination at Auschwitz and his own childhood survival impede them. Savagely ironic and deeply lyrical, Torpor is Kraus's most personal novel to date.
- Sales Rank: #310751 in Books
- Published on: 2015-01-02
- Original language: English
- Number of items: 1
- Dimensions: 9.00" h x .88" w x 6.00" l, 1.03 pounds
- Binding: Paperback
- 312 pages
From Publishers Weekly
While it's being billed as a novel—almost certainly for legal reasons—this is actually the third installment in Kraus's series of memoirs, begun momentously with I Love Dick (1997) and followed up in Aliens and Anorexia (2000). Kraus's estranged husband, Sylvère Lotringer, is a Columbia French professor and the founder, with Kraus, of Semiotext(e): he figures prominently in all three books; here, the two are named Sylvie Green and Jerome Shafir, respectively. Kraus's third-person narrative seems coy compared with the too-close-for-comfort first-person of the two previous books, but her opening tales of Sylvie's desire for a child and of Jerome's initial unwillingness to parent with her (she has two abortions at his behest) are wrenching. Eventually, in 1991, the two haplessly take a trip to Romania to adopt an orphan. The trip is the book's center, and Sylvie fugues around it brilliantly, ruminating on art and the art world, sex and sexism, marriage and children, Judaism and the Holocaust, urbanism and ruralism—as all relate to her life as a perennial outsider. Kraus, whose writing about the L.A. art scene was collected as Video Green (2004), is an underrated thinker and critic; her books form a compelling record of recent art and culture, and make substantial contribution to both. (Apr.)
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Review
Feminist writer and filmmaker Chris Kraus' novel Torpor, originally published in 2006, is not the festival of negativity we deserved but the festival of negativity we needed in those -- and these -- artificially untroubled times. As fresh today as it was when it first came out, Torpor joins Twitter personalities like Nein Quarterly and So Sad Today to resist the cult of relentless positivity, cultivating a much-needed counter-aesthetics of despair.
(Becca Rothfeld Slate) From the Publisher
"Chris Kraus combines fiction, autobiography and criticism in ways that are as funny and provocative as her titles (Aliens and Anorexia, for example)." --Los Angeles Times Book Review (this is a general Kraus plaudit, not Torpor-specific)
Most helpful customer reviews
11 of 12 people found the following review helpful.
I love her writing.
By Revenoor
There are some books that can't easily be talked about in company because to share an enthusiasm for the work is to confess one's... well, either sins or transgressions, or what.... There are some writers, and Chris Kraus is one of them, who can't be easily taught because you can't discuss her without talking honestly about yourself. Anyone can be clever about, oh... you know... the writers who are easy to talk about.
THIS IS A GREAT BOOK. The last page is devastating but you need to read the whole thing ahead of it.
Read her other books, too.
She'll probably not get the attention she deserves, because the critics will find ways to keep her local and small.
But you won't, will you?
1 of 1 people found the following review helpful.
While it's dangerous to essentialize a novel, especially one ...
By J. Christmas
While it's dangerous to essentialize a novel, especially one as complex as this, Torpor is really the tragic story of a woman who wants to matter, but can't figure out how. This is, of course, only one layer of the novel, but it is an emotional undercurrent running throughout. She wants a baby but can't convince her damaged, previously divorced, holocaust survivor husband; she wants recognition in the art world but no one notices her work; she wants to be taken seriously by men, but their subtle misogyny and her self-doubt reinforce each other, and she is left futilely projecting her hopes on the work of her husband, an academic who, unlike Sylvie, seems almost to want to disappear rather than to matter. All this takes place against the backdrop of a post-cold-war world where meaning seems to be disintegrating, where reality is being superseded by media images (exemplified in the "media revolution" of Romania that figures heavily in the book).
Of course, much else is also going on, including a lot of very sharp observation about the bohemian class of the era -- artists, academics, writers -- people who seem to cloak their ambition, self-interest, and vanity in coolness and vague political ideas, to whom what really matters is "who's peaked," as Jerome and Sylvie half-jokingly discuss. Though not stylistically quite similar, Kraus's writing often reminded me of Saul Bellow's, inasmuch as the description focuses as much on the inner lives of the characters as on action and physical detail, and in the way that every page seems to be overflowing with insight.
3 of 3 people found the following review helpful.
Twenty Questions for Chris Kraus
By Kevin Killian
An American girl meets and marries a French boy who's carrying around an enormous number of paralyzing memories of the Holocaust, and she decides to adopt a baby from a Third World country.
If only I could ask Chris Kraus my 20 questions! Among them would be, How would you describe the form you work in? It's very distinctive, very Chris Kraus, but what is it? I've heard people refer to your books as "comic" books, not like Nancy and Sluggo but something more like a Jane Austen sense of social comedy.
Torpor conveys like very few novels the misery of a long term relationship. You compare them to "hypothermia, giving yourself up in free and loose embtace into a dream state that turns out to be inertia." Do all relationships disintegrate into clownishness? You cite the comic French pairs, Mercier and Camier, Bouvard and Pechuchet, as models for your nagging lovers.
What's also so striking about your book is that you're not afraid to make a dog one of your main characters. I don't think any reader will forget the heroic dachshund Lily who gets carted around Europe in a sort of hideaway sack, nor that it's Lily's suffering that Sylvie and Jerome overlook in their picaresque adventure.
Sylvie is afraid that no one will ever take her seriously because she is untrained and has no MFA. And Jerome, who is a full professor at an Ivy League university, is always taunting her about this. Ms. Kraus, I read your book of essays, VIDEO GREEN, and the title essay is pretty much about the same thing, only translated to the art world. Galleries are everything, and there is no entry into getting a gallery unless you have an MFA from a select school. The whole system seems hopeless.
Back to Torpor, we of the New Narrative movement want to claim you as one of our own for your amazing vulnerability and the frankness with which you paint Sylvie as basically a sort of loser doomed to fail at anything she takes up.
And the gossip level is fairly astounding. We feel like we're backstage with Nan Goldin, Felix Guattari, Kathy Acker, so many more from the worlds of high art, French theory, transgressive literature. Of course, Ms. Kraus, everyone wants to know the identity of the few you have concealed in pseudonyms, especially "the writers Kenneth Broomfield and June Goodman."
Sylvie can't even look at Kenneth Broomfield or even think about him without one unfortunate comment, which he may or may not have made, ringing in her head. We've all been there, haven't we.
If you were here, I would ask you, do you write for a "particularly cultured audience?" And you would probably say something like, no, I write for a curious one, I want my books to be read by a girl just starting community college,
The problem with Europe, and Jerome by extension, is that people can't separate the present from the past of fifty years ago, or a thousand years ago. As Jerome is haunted and motivated by the events of his childhood, the Romanians seem to be trapped in a nightmare medievalism. In one city Jerome and Sylvie try to stay at, Brigitte Bardot appears to applaud the citizens who have let 300,000 wild dogs run feral in the streets. Meanwhile, in LA, there's no past and there's no imperfection and everything is beautiful.
Kraus writes beautifully about sex, and there's a strong passage where Sylvie is transported back to earlier ages when she's experiencing orgasm, back to 17, 14, once to age 5. It's very moving.
I don't know if I'll ever be able to ask these questions of the writer, but I can recommend TORPOR to anyone interested in either happiness or despair, America or Europe, the new or the old.
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