Counting the list of books that Margaret Atwood has written requires more than two sets of fingers and toes. She is capable of writing not only novels, but poetry, nonfiction, and children's books as well. I was flabbergasted to see yet another new volume on display in the Gulf of Maine Bookstore. More remarkable still is that the frequency of her publication does not stunt its quality.
"Moral Disorder," her latest work, is a series of short stories that fit together because of their tone. In the first half of the collection, the narrator is in the first person. The writing is very personal, and it takes a thorough reading of the book's proclamation that it is indeed a work of fiction to believe that this statement is true. Halfway through the collection, Atwood switches to an omniscient narrator who continues the story of the woman, Nell, whose life was being observed all along.
I wonder if Atwood came as close as she could to an exploration of her own early memories, before retreating to the telling of another woman's life. Taking an interest in Nell is not difficult, but I found myself drawn closer to her during the sections that were told without an omniscient presence. The final two stories are again in first person and it feels unclear whether or not the narrator is Nell.
The structure of the book is such that the final stories bring the reader back to a landscape that is familiar from the first story, "The Bad News." In this story, the reader learns about the comfortable old age of a couple whose creaks are mostly manageable, their habits comfortable, and the slow approach of death is gentle.
The ensuing stories illuminate the childhood of the narrator, providing a tapestry of family members and high school boyfriends. There is the subsequent following of Nell to her life on a farm, a time that includes the illness of her sister, an absurd quantity of animals, and a move back to the city. Finally, the reader returns to sketches of old age: the gradual toll the years take, the small stroke, the loss of sight and sound, and the privacy that is coupled with the absence of those who are the fiber of memories.
As always, Atwood is wonderful. Writing is almost like an itch she has to scratch, each time in a different place. The result is a gripping tapestry of real and imagined lives. Atwood's wit is killer and incessant. She does not shy away from the eerie or uncomfortable in her work. "Oryx and Crake," "The Handmaid's Tale," and "Cat's Eye" are evidence of that, to name only a few.
"Moral Disorder" retains something of the unease that is cultivated in these other works; in fact, there are many similarities between the depths of these stories and the narrative of "Cat's Eye." But there is something different here?perhaps it can be called wisdom, or certainly an altered kind of reflection.
Considering her repertoire, too few people are aware of Atwood's work?it deserves a thorough perusal. "Moral Disorder" is as good a place as any to start.