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speculativebecky 's review for:
The Freedom Artist
by Ben Okri
The Freedom Artist by Ben Okri was one of those “didn’t know this book existed but now I have to have it” bookstore finds for me earlier this year, and reading it definitely brought the bookstore nostalgia for that reason. It’s sleekly designed, and I was captivated by the page between the dedication and epigraph which sports the words “Read Slowly” at the bottom. I’m not sure I always successfully followed that instruction, but I tried.
Though this book is probably considered by many to be more “literature” than “science fiction”, I put it on the 2019 Becky Awards Longlist because genre is made up and I was excited to read it. The Freedom Artist is a poetic little dystopian, with short elusive chapters which made it difficult to put down. I feel like somehow it’s a page-turner not because of the plot but because of the tone of the writing. Any book that’s ever been described as “allegorical” probably means that on some level I didn’t understand it, but I still found the reading experience rich and exciting. We begin with a tangled web of founding myths, and throughout this novel I found the worldbuilding to be intriguingly imprecise, cluttered with unknowns on questions of history and truth. The founding myths are being rewritten, books are disappearing, the majority of people sleep through their lives and scream in their sleep. The bulk of the plot follows a man named Karnak, whose lover has been removed by the authorities for asking the dangerous question “who is the prisoner?” This evocative question roots itself deeply in the novel, which overall I found absolutely beautiful to read, and mostly satisfying in its conclusion.
This novel makes an intriguing companion for another literary dystopian longlist-er, The Memory Police by Yoko Ogwa. Comparing the two, I think my biggest disappointment with The Freedom Artist is how off-page the story’s women were. Amalantis is arguably a much more interesting character than her lover Karnak, but we get his whole story peppered with mere fragments of his memories of her. I’m sure you could argue there’s something interesting about centering the story this way, but it also just kind of feels like the way women are so often not developed as full characters. I don’t feel like this criticism took away from the magic of the reading experience, but it sort of nags at me as I sit back and reflect upon finishing.
Cw for violence including some gruesome descriptions and mentions of suicide
Though this book is probably considered by many to be more “literature” than “science fiction”, I put it on the 2019 Becky Awards Longlist because genre is made up and I was excited to read it. The Freedom Artist is a poetic little dystopian, with short elusive chapters which made it difficult to put down. I feel like somehow it’s a page-turner not because of the plot but because of the tone of the writing. Any book that’s ever been described as “allegorical” probably means that on some level I didn’t understand it, but I still found the reading experience rich and exciting. We begin with a tangled web of founding myths, and throughout this novel I found the worldbuilding to be intriguingly imprecise, cluttered with unknowns on questions of history and truth. The founding myths are being rewritten, books are disappearing, the majority of people sleep through their lives and scream in their sleep. The bulk of the plot follows a man named Karnak, whose lover has been removed by the authorities for asking the dangerous question “who is the prisoner?” This evocative question roots itself deeply in the novel, which overall I found absolutely beautiful to read, and mostly satisfying in its conclusion.
This novel makes an intriguing companion for another literary dystopian longlist-er, The Memory Police by Yoko Ogwa. Comparing the two, I think my biggest disappointment with The Freedom Artist is how off-page the story’s women were. Amalantis is arguably a much more interesting character than her lover Karnak, but we get his whole story peppered with mere fragments of his memories of her. I’m sure you could argue there’s something interesting about centering the story this way, but it also just kind of feels like the way women are so often not developed as full characters. I don’t feel like this criticism took away from the magic of the reading experience, but it sort of nags at me as I sit back and reflect upon finishing.
Cw for violence including some gruesome descriptions and mentions of suicide