"The silence is pregnant with avoided topics."

The subject heading references a forthcoming review. Something sing-song, to talk about in the company of pleased people: "Bee Season" by Myla Goldberg. There's an accompanying Decemberists song dedicated to the author that can be deconstructed in kind when I'm finished reading.

But first, and somewhat out of order, "Specimen Days" by Michael Cunningham.

Again, I often review in haste, and haven't the text to use as a reference. However, I'll relay my general impressions of the text with hopes comments can further confirm or counter my opinions.

To begin- and as a token disclaimer- I adore Michael Cunningham. His prose is both confirming and confident and his characters beg extreme credibility. While he doesn't strike me as the epicenter for characterization and consequent description - he certainly exhausts a lot of energy describing the actions/ thoughts/ opportunities and expressions of each character. To do so seems simple for Mr. Cunningham. The writing in fluid and I'm always generally interested in the fate of our established character sects.

Specimen Days seems more an exercise in defying conventional plot, than an execution of a desired to be told story. To explain: S.D. is, in effect, "The Hours". All the same techniques are employed, in that parallels are drawn between shifting characters in a triad of novellas fused together to become a novel. Real life literary figures are re-born and integrated into the prose to highlight a character's flaws and help carry them to their inevitable apotheosis. The reader moves along a continuum of time, and in so doing, are subject to variant colloquialisms and archaic and new age styles of prose. The only big difference I found so that "The Hours" was written first, and therefore, more dramatic and precendent setting than SD. Also, "The Hours" wove its tale so finely so that the reader moved in and out of spatial time lines so fluidly that the reader isn't even aware of the vast shift in style.

SD does not do this.

As stand alone stories, they are completely indicative of Mr. Cunningham's obvious and beautiful ability to write. The plots, in and of themselves, are intriguing, if a bit contrived. The reader works through stories that progress in time. Their individual plots are expectant and overwrought. The characters, who are used again and again, born new in each new story become increasingly obnoxious. They seem to harbour a weight, that grows in size and burden with each progressing century, that isn't dedicated much attention to begin with.

Chekhov wrote that if we're to introduce the gun in the first chapter, it best go off by the second.

Walt Whitman is the gun.
However, he won't stop firing.

My biggest issue with the text is that the Whitman connection seems silly. The idea that links all three stories to one another through a fusion of characters that is certainly intriguing in premise is killed by Whitman's general characterization. Either in the form of the man himself, or personified by alternate principal character or alien spacecraft, Whitman's repeated lines always echo the introduction of the first story (arguably the weakest) - and the repeated lines "Every atom that belongs to you..." become redundant and annoying for the reader to re-invent.

To compare to it's predecesor a bit more- The Hours brought with it an emotional connectivity among the characters. Characters weren't merely made new in variant settings, but chiefly affected one another through their actions, intents and emotions. SD characters seemed static in their obvious. It seemed change for change sake and I didn't find myself empathetic or hopeful for their general being.

All in all, Specimen Days warrants some days I could live without. The second vingette is worth the read, and the writing is written in classic Cunningham style. It may not be "The Hours", but need we another?

A reluctant 2 out of 4 Hula hoops, with hopeful increased rotations for future projects to come.