| “Winter Zoo” by John Beckman is a superbly written book about a group of young bohemians in Poland. These vividly described characters lack goals and ambition, but display a joy for life that we all desire and that, at the very least, entertains. The descriptions of cities in Poland, gambling halls, incestuous affairs and of wild sex without regard for consequences, make the story and it protagonists seem so alive that you can almost ignore the fact that the author had no idea how to end his story. |
The narrative takes place at the end of the Cold War in Krakow, Poland. The focus is on sex, more sex and group sex. The story is difficult to believe because of the overwhelming Catholicism of Poland, but this is a story—not a history. In the story, there are two expatriate Americans living in Poland. These two are perhaps the characters most lacking in morality. One has abandoned a woman at home who has just delivered his child and the other is his cousin who likes to engage in sex with anyone who is willing to drop his pants—including her cousin. Together they embark on a life of irresponsibility and decadence.
As I mentioned early in this review, the book is excellently written and the characters are vivid. What is lacking is cohesive story to tie it all together. There are some subplots that are creative and entertaining, but there is no overall plot to take you from point A to point B. If there were such a storyline the book would be perfect. This quote should give you an idea of the quality of the writing:
Morality, she said lightly, is a circus tent. The big top. It’s gilded, gawdy, flocked, and garish. High, pointy, righteous, and mighty. (She shaped this out with her hands, molding a two-foot circus tent in the air in front of them.) It looks gorgeous from above, and it keeps us hidden from the eye of God. We love morality. We need it. We like it. Just like we like our traffic laws. But it’s really only there fro what’s hidden inside it. Inside the tent—that’s where we get to cheer and scream. Inside’s where we eat teeth-rotting food and fly the trapeze, where we walk the tightrope, drive the animals crazy with whips and chairs and meaty treats. There’s no good. There’s no evil. Morality is nothing but a flimsy old tent, the pretense of knowing right from wrong in a beautiful world where anything goes!
I recommend the book for the quality of the prose and its almost poetic beauty, but must hold back from saying that it is a must read.
