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Mating

Norman Rush

Paperback | Pages: 480 pages

Rating: 3.81 | 3564 Users | 435 Reviews

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Original Title:	Mating
ISBN:	067973709X (ISBN13: 9780679737094)
Edition Language:	English
Setting:	Botswana
Literary Awards:	National Book Award for Fiction (1991), Irish Times International Fiction Prize (1992), National Book Critics Circle Award Nominee for Fiction (1991)

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The narrator of this splendidly expansive novel of high intellect and grand passion is an American anthropologist at loose ends in the South African republic of Botswana. She has a noble and exacting mind, a good waist, and a busted thesis project. She also has a yen for Nelson Denoon, a charismatic intellectual who is rumored to have founded a secretive and unorthodox utopian society in a remote corner of the Kalahari—one in which he is virtually the only man. What ensues is both a quest and an exuberant comedy of manners, a book that explores the deepest canyons of eros even as it asks large questions about the good society, the geopolitics of poverty, and the baffling mystery of what men and women really want.

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Title	:	Mating
Author	:	Norman Rush
Book Format	:	Paperback
Book Edition	:	First Edition
Pages	:	Pages: 480 pages
Published	:	September 1st 1992 by Vintage (first published September 3rd 1991)
Categories	:	Fiction. Cultural. Africa. Novels. Literature

Rating Out Of Books Mating

Ratings: 3.81 From 3564 Users | 435 Reviews

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Mating - What a phenomenal achievement. 55-year old author Norman Rush writes his very first novel featuring a 32-year-old female narrator. Sure, she's a bookish, superintellectual with an advanced degree in anthropology from Stanford so Norman can flex his own encyclopedic knowledge, everything from history, sociology and pop culture to agronomy, literature and the arts but our American author goes well beyond usual novel length - Mating weighs in at a whopping 495 pages. An extraordinary

I adored this book. I couldn't stand for it to end (but I do know Rush has others, thank goodness!). There are so many ideas in this book - rich w/ thoughts, and all are so human and accessible and fascinating. On some levels it's like reading a book about yourself, no matter where you fit in... human anthropology, why we are attracted to certain people, the history of religion and where it fits, socialism, wealth/poverty, male/female, silence/noise...it's all there! The language is dense and

"It always surprised me how few pygmalious, polymathic men had ever been interested in sprucing me up, given that I'm so interested and available, and that, as everyone notices first about me, I remember everything."I do love our unnamed narrator, uncomfortably, the way one loves a friend who grows tedious gushing about her new love. I love that I had to look up words and that even if I can never say "inter pocula" to describe someone who is inebriated without feeling a little pretentious, it's

It appears that many folks really love this book. I have to admit that I was mostly bemused. A white male author writing in a female voice about Botswana; pretty ballsy. His protagonist is not someone with whom I'd like to have a cup of coffee. Of course, I don't expect every book's heroine to be someone I'd like to hang out with, but this is a female William F. Buckley; using monosyllabic, obscurely sourced words very deliberately, it seemed. She speaks of her humble beginnings and I was left

Maybe I am shallow and narrow and lack the brainpower to fully appreciate this book, but to me it is the best love story. I reference it mentally almost everyday. To cross the Kalahari for the mere chance for a connection! To be a planless drifter in Africa--to be too cutting and smart and still see this chance for love. She is my hero. Endlessly quotable. And the end cracked my heart. I'm gifting it to a boy who would do well to heed Nelson Denoon's example.

I think the author was trying to see how many fancy SAT words he could fit into one book. He fit in a lot, and it was meh.

"For me, love is like this: you're in one room or apartment which you think is fine, then you walk through a door and close it behind you and find yourself in the next apartment, which is even better, larger, more floorspace, a better view. You're happy there and then you go into the next apartment and close the door and this one is even better. And the sequence continues, but with the odd feature that although this has happened to you a number of times, you forget: each time your new quarters