Chapter 58: Owen Meany

I'm rereading A Prayer for Owen Meany by John Irving; I've not read it for about 15 years. While I'd forgotten most of the details of the story, I know basically what happens. I remember feeling quite amazed, the first time I read it, at how well Irving wove all the various parts into the surprising climax; even now, I'm startled at some of the clever ways Irving conveyed the characters and made them seem completely real.

I'll have more to say, I suspect, about Owen -- I intend to include a review on my Elephant's Bookshelf blog -- but if I don't get around to that and you're looking for a good book to read, give this one a try. In a nutshell, it's about a very small boy who does great things and leaves an impression chiseled into the memories of everyone he's known. Even those who are dwindling into dementia recall him and especially HIS VOICE, WHICH COMES FROM A THROAT THAT IS STUCK IN A PERMANENT SCREAM. Owen was also an opinion writer during high school. I wonder if he'd have had a blog if he were a teenager today rather than in the early '60s. But the most important element of this tale is religion.

Owen develops a sense that he is an instrument of God; by the end of the story it's clear that he was right. Without spoiling it for those few out there who've not read it (come on, the book's been in print since 1989!), I'll say that even people who don't believe in God will find the story engaging. The joy of this book is in the discovery. It has everything a reader wants: strongly developed characters that the reader can picture and relate to; a compelling story that keeps the pages moving; snippets of both sex and baseball (what story would be complete without them?); and clever ways to piss off the establishment. Throw in some armless symbols and tragic beauty and loads of idealism, and you've got yourself a winner.

Oh yeah, there's also a lot of semicolons; it wouldn't be quite the same without the semicolons.