Something universal
This is a subtle and intriguing mix of psychology, love, fame, faith and futurism. It feels like a rolling, slowly churning sea, where pieces come together and fall apart only to meet other pieces. Avatar follows the story of Anne as she moves through her life of troubled youth, problematic adolescence, her world-wide violin career and on into her maturity. On a deeper level it is an exploration of the human potential that springboards forward from science and technology to a paradoxical return to ancient mysticism. Anne is an obnoxious child who bullies children and puts spiders in teacher¿s pockets. Her only true friend is her Labrador, Fluffy. When she is diagnosed with a malignant brain tumour she runs away from home to avoid having as she says ¿holes drilled in her head.¿ She is abducted and abused. But it is upon her return that things get really strange. She slips into a coma which, as we learn much later from Gabriel Morton, an ex-wrestler turned Indian guru, is her coping mechanism: her conscious mind being taken over by her unconscious reactions. Her teenage years aren¿t much better as she muddles through her feelings and her loneliness. That is until Peter, the assistant director of the Montreal Neurological Institute, friend of the family and Anne¿s future husband introduces her to the violin. She is a prodigy and quickly becomes the pet-project of Sir Ian, the Director of the Montreal Symphony. Somehow Anne connects to the instinct and intention of the composer and affects people unlike anyone else. CD¿s and a world tour follow. And this for me is the most telling passage of the whole book, the turning point for the reader if you will: in 310 pages the world tour takes only 8. It is disjointed and recounted almost in note form. This momentous event is so removed, so outside the family outside the home outside the nexus of the true lives of these people the infinite humanity of their private lives and personal journeys that there is no way to incorporate it. Diana, the mother, is trying to reconcile her faith with the unshakable feeling that the difficulties of her daughter are a punishment. Anne¿s father, Michael, a very practical engineer, is confronted with a daughter for whom, asides from an instinctive paternal link, he has no connection. And then there is Anne herself who doesn¿t really understand what her life is all about but is functioning almost entirely on instinct, on gut feeling. Eventually she outgrows the violin it isn¿t a sufficient medium for Anne experience of something universal. And this is where the futurism comes in. Anne¿s experience, her ability, her connection to something larger is almost a moral prediction or prescription for where we as people should be going. But there is a sobriety to this message: ¿even after the most incredible achievement, it only means that we ourselves have achieved our own personal best: the world continues to unfold as if nothing has happened.¿
Was this review helpful? Yes NoThank you for your feedback.
Report this reviewThank you, this review has been flagged.