Franzen's Freedom

I'm obsessing about Jonathan Franzen and his new book "Freedom." I'm on page 400-something and only put it down to write this post and view some more publicity for the highly acclaimed "masterpiece." Franzen has reportedly brought back the Great American Novel (I wasn't aware it had left the building), gracing the cover of Time magazine and drawing humongous crowds at book venues nationwide. Even though I attended the Decatur Book Festival, I missed his keynote address, which drew over a thousand Franzenmaniacs. There's no question the dude is an exceptionally talented, gifted novelist. I realized this a few pages into his 2001 National Book Award-winning "The Corrections" and hung onto every word in one fell swoop reading marathon.

But Franzen, with his studious sexy looks and his I'm-hip-but-also-unassuming-manner, seems to attract lovers and detractors in equal portions. There are those who'll never forgive him for snubbing Oprah's Book Club anointing, probably her loyal followers and some of his competitors. Others who view the author as snobby, self-important and grandiose. I am a fan, unlike the Borders salesman who put up his hands defensively when I asked him if he'd read "Freedom." The chap recommends his favorites to all who enter the bookstore but apparently is a member of the Franzen Fatigue Fringe.

In his new novel, Franzen has a steady but rather pedantic finger on the national pulse. He gets it, capturing everything from stay-at-home moms and almost famous rock stars to Washington's unscrupulous politicos and the ever-evolving environmental crisis. His prose is polished, revelatory and finely-tuned to America's Different Drum. But there's an element somewhere in "Freedom's" mix that is annoying, even while one devours its elegant sentences and rips through nearly six-hundred pages. One candid observer opined that from all she could tell Franzen must be "an asshole."

Say what you will, he's arguably The Novelist for Our Times. Perhaps because of our disaffection with where we are at this point in our history, we simply don't like looking at ourselves through Franzen's lens. It's hyper-acute and spot-on. If you're not in the mood for self-assessment, pick up the latest vampire epic. But if you can stand an unflinching look in the mirror, go ahead and read the book that's got America buzzing.