Moral Disorder Paperback - 2009

Excerpt

An excerpt from “The Art of Cooking and Serving,” from Margaret Atwood’s Moral Disorder

I'd been told about the expectant state of my mother in May, by my father. It had made me very anxious, partly because I'd also been told that until my new baby brother or sister had arrived safely my mother would be in a dangerous condition. Something terrible might happen to her -- something that might make her very ill -- and it was all the more likely to happen if I myself did not pay proper attention. My father did not say what this thing was, but his gravity and terseness meant that it was a serious business.

My mother -- said my father -- was not supposed to sweep the floor, or carry anything heavy such as pails of water, or bend down much, or lift bulky objects. We would all have to pitch in, said my father, and do extra tasks. It would be my brother's job to mow the lawn, from now until June, when we would go up north. (Up north there was no lawn. In any case my brother wouldn't be there: he was heading off to a camp for boys, to do things with axes in the woods.) As for me, I would just have to be generally helpful. More helpful than usual, my father added in a manner that was meant to be encouraging. He himself would be helpful too, of course. But he couldn't be there all the time. He had some work to do, when we would be at what other people called the cottage but we called the island. (Cottages had iceboxes and gas generators and waterskiing, all of which we lacked.) It was necessary for him to be away, which was unfortunate, he continued. But he would not be gone for very long, and he was sure I would be up to it.

I myself was not so sure. He always thought I knew more than I knew, and that I was bigger than I was, and older, and hardier. What he mistook for calmness and competence was actually fright: that was why I stared at him in silence, nodding my head. The danger that loomed was so vague, and therefore so large -- how could I even prepare for it? At the back of my mind, my feat of knitting was a sort of charm, like the fairy-tale suits of nettles mute princesses were supposed to make for their swan-shaped brothers, to turn them back into human beings. If I could only complete the full set of baby garments, the baby that was supposed to fit inside them would be conjured into the world, and thus out of my mother. Once outside, where I could see it -- once it had a face -- it could be dealt with. As it was, the thing was a menace.


From the Hardcover edition.

Media reviews

The instant #1 national bestseller

“Atwood’s meticulous stories exert a powerful centrifugal force, pulling the reader into a whirl of droll cultural analysis and provocative emotional truths. Gimlet-eyed, gingery, and impishly funny, Atwood dissects the inexorable demands of family, the persistence of sexism, the siege of old age, and the complex temperaments of other species (the story about the gift horse is to die for). Shaped by a Darwinian perspective, political astuteness, autobiographical elements, and a profound trust in literature, Atwood’s stories evoke humankind’s disastrous hubris and phenomenal spirit with empathy and bemusement.” — Booklist (starred review)

“Crisp, vivid detail and imagery and a rich awareness of the unity of human generations, people and animals, and Nell’s own exterior and inmost selves, make Moral Disorder one of Atwood’s most accessible and engaging works yet.” — Kirkus Reviews (starred review)

“This snapshot collection is a study of memory, to be cherished not just as an acute portrayal of family life, with all its possibilities and failings, but for revealing a little more of Atwood’s own struggle.” — The Times

“Atwood [has an] impressive command of the art of short fiction. . . . Atwood’s approach, although minimalist, is powerful and her protagonist’s emotional history is a puzzle impatient to be unscrambled. . . . Atwood’s richly layered approach lends itself to the telling of truths. The events she sketches linger on the edge of revelations and allow readers to draw their own conclusions. The stories shift, with ease, from youth to age, from brash certainty to the moral ambiguity that defines her characters’ lives. . . . Skilfully crafted stories.” — London Free Press

“An intriguing patchwork of poignant episodes. . . . Atwood provides a memorable mosaic of domestic pain and the surface tension of a troubled family.” — Publishers Weekly

“Nuanced insights and ironies. . . . Atwood is the master of interior monologue — profound understanding is a given in Moral Disorder. . . . Beautifully intricate studies of the strange life story.” — Globe and Mail

“Vintage Atwood: slyly operatic, playfully tenebrous and a touch of sanguinary. . . .” — Globe and Mail

“Atwood does geography — emotional and physical — better than anyone. . . . Atwood is in top form as she sketches female guises and disguises: daughter, sister, lover, wife.” — Toronto Star

“This is a book that, structurally as well as thematically, invites readers to experience the orderly and disorderly beginnings, endings and in betweens of a life.” — Observer

“A model of distillation, precision, clarity and detail. . . . Within the collection's exceptional unity she explores the variety and flexibility of the short story in a manner not unlike Alice Munro’s in her longer narratives.” — The Independent

“An elegant, nearly seamless narrative about a woman whose lifetime stretches from the 1930s to the present. The collection is a treat for fans and a worthy introduction for those who have not yet had the pleasure of her company. . . . In Moral Disorder, Atwood travels deep into the expanse of memories and language built up over her writing lifetime and offers a handful of gems to illuminate our times.” — Los Angeles Times

“Margaret Atwood has always been an acute observer of women. . . . Crisp to the senses and compelling. . . . I was gripped throughout.” — Telegraph

“Atwood is still a master of the compelling, peculiar portrait of human behavior.” — Entertainment Weekly

“Classic Atwood. Unforgettable.” — January Magazine, Best Books of 2006

“Powerful and distinctive.” — Times Literary Supplement

“A fractured novel of particularly haunting and engaging beauty. . . .” — Books in Canada

“Margaret Atwood balances the apparently random — disorderly — events and memories against the sense we all have that a life as a whole has its own shape, possibly a destiny. . . .This tale, like all these tales, is both grim and delightful, because it is triumphantly understood and excellently written.” — A.S. Byatt, Washington Post Book World

“Atwood at her slyest and sweetest. There really is nobody like her.” — Ursula K. Le Guin, Guardian

“Ingenious and perceptive. . . deserves to become a quiet classic.” — Spectator