I wanted to like this novel. I really did. I mean, cats and everything. But I can only say that I feel lukewarm about the whole experience. This is a I wanted to like this novel. I really did. I mean, cats and everything. But I can only say that I feel lukewarm about the whole experience. This is a read that I thought would be about something else entirely.
In the opening segments, a man named Saturo forms a bond with a cat (Nana) who Saturo has rescued from being hit by a car. Saturo eventually helps kitty recover and recuperate and the bond is firmly solidified. However, for reasons that are undiscovered until much later in the novel, Saturo is forced to try to give up and find a suitable owner who will take Nana and care for him. From here, we go from place to place, locale to locale, as Saturo tries to find Nana a place.
As I hinted at earlier, this had all the makings of a book I would like, but it really felt like the book’s title is a massive misnomer since so much of the focus is on human interaction and the behind-the-scenes interactions and so little of it is really about the life of Nana.
Also, the plot jumps around way too much and too randomly without any rhyme or reason, and so there is not much in the way of a deep focus on any one story or moment. It was too scattered, and it feels like it could have been a translation issue. (Also, it was odd how the narrative voice shifted from the sarcastic Nana to a third person narrator on a whim from segment to segment).
The novel heads toward a slightly predictable path in the final parts and just overall has an overly sentimental, saccharine mood that is too heavy handed and obvious. The author lays this on way too thick. Because of this, there is not as much power in the key moments that should have been more of an emotional investment on the part of the reader, and, in general, things fall a little flat.
In the end, I appreciate the kitty and the story of his owner and there is a little charm and thoughtfulness to how it is presented, but it just didn’t entirely work with all the behind-the-scenes family/ human drama. ...more
“Go as far as you can—way out yonder where the crawdads sing.”
I am fairly skeptical of those books that are very hyped up to the max and have high ra“Go as far as you can—way out yonder where the crawdads sing.”
I am fairly skeptical of those books that are very hyped up to the max and have high ratings galore with the masses singing their praises. I have gone into some of those books and felt quite let down and disappointed by the novel’s end. However, this was not the case at all with Delia Owen’s popular novel Where the Crawdads Sing, a novel that breaches into various genres and themes: coming of age, romance, mystery, courtroom drama.
1969. The quiet, small North Carolina town Barkley Cove is astir and up in arms when one of its popular locals, Chase Andrews, is found dead. Suspected of the crime is Kya Clark, who has been dubbed the “Marsh girl” because she has isolated herself out in the marsh away from the town and the public.
Owens formats this novel so we are constantly shifting around through the past and fast forwarding to various years, and this allows us to “fill in the pieces” of what has taken place in this small community. Through this structure, we get to see Kya’s childhood as well as the communities’ reaction to her and the choices she has made along the way.
During the years in the past, we come to know that her mother left her at an early age and never came back, and her abusive father also left her, along with her brother, who joined the military. Left to fend on her own, Kya becomes resourceful and visits Jumpin’ and Mabel, a kind couple who own a store and become parental-type figures to help Kya survive and provide help. Kya also comes to know and be involved with two of the boys who are her age, Tate Walker and Chase Andrews, who form a love triangle of sorts and forms the basis for the mystery at hand.
I think this book does have a few flaws, but I tended to forgive them because I just enjoyed pretty much everything else. I love how the author brings in love of the natural world and how Kya so readily identifies with this world as a source of comfort and means to escape. In many ways, the marsh itself becomes a character symbolizing the solace away from the town gossip.
The author also delves into important themes such as isolation and fitting in and finding oneself. I like how she manages to put many of the pieces together to form a picture of the past and present.
Overall, I was fairly pleased with Where the Crawdads Sing and will look into more works from this author. It was a very easy read that just flew by and was quite engaging from beginning to end....more
Life is very short and there are so many books to get through. So many books, so little time as they say. I tried this one for a while and I’m pretty Life is very short and there are so many books to get through. So many books, so little time as they say. I tried this one for a while and I’m pretty much a stickler and book completist about finishing books (even ones I hate), but I had to pull the plug about one hundred pages in. (I’m seriously surprised I made it that far).
I’ll keep this review short, but this one just grated on my nerves in all sorts of ways from the get-go. From the narrative style to the constant profanity, to convoluted story, etc. Honestly, does it really add anything to be overly crude in so many ways? It’s just lazy writing to me. I pretty much loathed this book and thought “why waste my time on a book I hate?”
I appreciate the art of being able to write a novel, but this one just didn’t work for me at all. I’ve heard terms like “quirky” and “humorous” thrown around when referencing this book, but this book is none of those. It’s pretty much just a mess. ...more
This is my third read from Kazuo Ishiguro (the other two being Never Let Me Go and The Remains of the Day, both of which I enjoyed very much) and one This is my third read from Kazuo Ishiguro (the other two being Never Let Me Go and The Remains of the Day, both of which I enjoyed very much) and one common trait from all three books is the level of sophistication and introspection. This often comes in the form of how thoughts, memories, and time (from the narrator’s point of view) play a key role and mechanism in how events and themes are presented and/or manipulated.
Alongside this, there’s often a question of how much is NOT said from the narrator’s perspective, and this is important because there is at times heavy lifting required from the reader. I think this is fine, however, because there are definitely some holes to fill in or “under the surface” moments that we need to interpret. In short, I appreciate the fact that we have to put some pieces of the puzzle together to form our own perspective.
When We Were Orphans is such a novel that gives the reader quite a bit to sift through and unpack. In its barest form, the book involves narrator Christopher Banks’ quest to find his mother and father, who went missing when he was younger. He is now a prominent detective who has made a name for himself, and will eventually revisit Shanghai to finally try to solve the mystery of this disappearance. However, along this journey, Banks is preoccupied with so many recollections of the past, tragedies and momentous events that still haunt him till this day.
This is quite a difficult book to write about in detail without a potential spoiler, but suffice to say, there is a distant, non-linear aspect to aspect to Banks’ narration and reflections that might have us question what is real and what is perhaps exaggeration. I felt like this was a novel of many novels, given the several different threads and subplots are opened up and recur throughout. We move back and forth through different moments in Christopher’s life, from his childhood memories with his parents and Uncle Phillips, his friend Akira, his encounters with Sarah Hemmings, and his adopted daughter Jennifer and try to put this fragmented puzzle together.
There is quite a bit to reflect upon after finishing, and I think the title takes on a deeper level of significance looking back. I like the level of ambiguity that the author utilizes to have us fill in some of the missing pieces in this one. Very introspective read, and I look forward to my next read from this author. ...more
“The willows sign and sway and sing about love but you don’t need to hear the trees, you only need to listen...”
I think sometimes readers need a part“The willows sign and sway and sing about love but you don’t need to hear the trees, you only need to listen...”
I think sometimes readers need a particular kind of book to help them refocus, and get back into the right frame of mind. I happened to stumble upon this book by word of mouth through a reading group and finally had a chance to read. What Willow Says is a quietly meditative and reflective kind of book. Some books lend themselves to a particular season, and with all the lush imagery and naturalistic depictions, I think this is a perfect fall kind of read.
This novella is quite simplistic, yet unique, in its format. The narrative is a series of journal entries from a grandmother. She details and describes her relationship with her deaf granddaughter. The narrator’s depicts nature as well as specific mythology and legends that surround the landscape.
In many ways, I think What Willow Says centers on finding meaning in various aspects of the natural world. But this is a book that covers other themes. This is a book about love, about bonding, about language and communication and how Nature is alongside us on our exodus. Grandmother details her journey to us and gives us a glimpse of these elements all the while teaching her granddaughter about the natural world and life in general. She also sheds some light into her family's history as well as tries to come to terms with understanding her granddaughter's deafness.
Some readers might complain that there “doesn’t seem to be much going on,” but I think this is a novel where you have to look under the surface level to find meaning. Much like a trip out into Nature, there is a calming, soothing, lyrical aspect to taking in this reading experience. I found this quite rewarding. A very uniquely written and ponderous novel. ...more
“These are the last things, she wrote. One by one they disappear and never come back. I can tell you of the ones I have seen, of the ones that are no “These are the last things, she wrote. One by one they disappear and never come back. I can tell you of the ones I have seen, of the ones that are no more, but I doubt there will be time. It is all happening too fast now, and I cannot keep up.”
In a year that has felt like a semi-lackluster reading experience for me (as far as book ratings go), Paul Auster’s In the Country of Last Things (one of his first, being published in 1987) might just well be my favorite read from this year so far.
I’m a bit of a sucker for the dystopian/post-apocalyptic type novels if handled the right way, and I think that this novel is an exceptional one for its thoughtfulness, reflectiveness, creativity, and power. The epistolary format, told from Anna Blume’s perspective to an unnamed reader, works so well and effectively stylistically. Through Anna’s eyes—her thoughts, her experiences, her reflections—Auster is able to create this upside-down, topsy-turvy, backwards society in such an authentic and unique way, and I think this allows the reader to be more emotionally invested in Anna and her fate.
From Anna’s letter and reflections in a blue notebook she has managed to save, we come to understand that she has come to an unnamed city in search of her brother. She details aspects of society and sets up this world: homelessness is rampant, hunger and starvation eminent, suicide common, crime everywhere. Through the ruins and chaos of this city, survivors have formed factions or groups in order to survive or make it to the next day or find their next meal or shelter. It is almost a nihilistic depiction of depravity and darkness within this city’s confines. Anna eventually takes the role as a scavenger in order to survive and find her brother.
As stated earlier, there is a personal aspect to Anna’s voice that I think gives this novel an added level of depth and dimension, something I do not think I have experienced much in this genre. She allows us into her world and life, and by parts, I believe there is not only the physical journey of finding her lost family member, but there is also a metaphorical level of finding herself and identity and finding a sense of “home” or “belonging.” She also reveals how so many others she encounters have the same desire for not only the physical necessities of survival and daily sustenance, but a symbolic peace of mind.
At a very brisk 188 pages, this is a book where it is difficult to give many novel details without maybe spoiling things, but suffice to say, she meets a few key individuals who become central to the plot and her hope, and they try to pull their resources together in order to survive as best they can.
The reader experiences a wide range of emotions (hope, sadness, despair, joy, happiness, disgust, concern, uneasiness) all within the scope and journey of Anna’s haunting narrative. In such a short space of time, this book really packs a punch.
This is my third read from Paul Auster (The New York Trilogy, Oracle Night) and I have thoroughly enjoyed them all. I think there is a reflective, metacognitive style in his books that I am drawn to. Anyhow, look forward to more reads from this author. I enjoyed this one thoroughly! ...more
I feel bad writing a lukewarm review for this book, as I know a lot of my friends and others enjoyed it immensely, but I honestly just did not like thI feel bad writing a lukewarm review for this book, as I know a lot of my friends and others enjoyed it immensely, but I honestly just did not like this one as much as others. I felt sort of an indifference to the characters, and I think much of this stems from an irritating writing style/ scatterbrained format of how the narrative unfolds.
There are several threads of narratives presented in the story, different characters from different time periods, and they are connected in various ways, one of which relates to a book entitled “The History of Love.”
Something about this book just falls a little flat. The characters come across as too sentimental or quirky and it just felt like the author was trying too hard to have us sympathize and like them. I liken this much to the author’s style of how she presents everything to the reader, as it felt too gimmicky.
Along those same lines, the narrative is just so scatterbrained, disjointed and fragmented to the point where it becomes confusing as to which character is speaking at points. I have read novels where multiple narratives is pulled off pretty successfully, but here, it is a tad confusing. I will admit; maybe that was just me and my concentration, but at the same time, I just felt a lack of investment.
That being said, I did like some of the aspects of the “book within a book” when “The History of Love” comes into play, as we get glimpses and patches of people’s lives here and there, and little riddles that will be explored later. Some of these anecdotes and moments were powerful. However, once again, it is handled in a scattered, clunky way quite a bit of the time that makes it distracting to the reader.
So, while there are some poignant and emotional moments into the past and present at points, the hodgepodge, rambling, scattered approach made for a confusing (and less than enjoyable) read. I felt compelled to skim over a few passages just because of this.
At the end of the day, The History of Love was somewhat of a letdown....more
It’s difficult to fathom that every other read from Murakami has been either 4 or 5 stars for me and yet, here we are with 1Q84. I loved both Hard BoiIt’s difficult to fathom that every other read from Murakami has been either 4 or 5 stars for me and yet, here we are with 1Q84. I loved both Hard Boiled Wonderland and The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle, easy five stars. And Kafka on the Shore and After Dark were solid four stars. So, what went wrong here? Is it simply that the Murakami shtick is finally failing this time after so many successes and hits? Or could 1Q84 be the outlier, the outcast of the family, one that disappoints in comparison to other reads? Or perhaps it is a little of both?
Talk about a dismal disappointment. I am trying to find some positive things to say about this book and even as a Murakami fan, I am having a real struggle.
Let’s start with the lack of compelling lead characters, who are nothing to write home about. If you are going to write a 1178 page behemoth, then at least principle characters who are interesting, compelling or someone who a reader is invested in. The two leads—Tengo and Aomame—were as flat and undynamic as they come. I felt like the author was trying way too hard with the whole destiny “love” thing that encompasses the entirely of the book (Who would have thought: finding your soul mate only requires holding hands briefly as 10-year-olds and then going all out to seek each other 20 years later?) At any rate, the two characters seeking each other out after twenty years reeked of triteness and artificialness to try to give the book this “heavy” meaning or importance or something. However, it does not work at all, in my opinion.
With every Murakami read, there is a heavy amount of symbolic and metaphorical power, but here it just fails. We have the parallel worlds of 1984 and the 1Q84 here, which the lead characters come to realize at some point, but there’s really nothing to latch onto of import in either. Other phenomenon that surface within the confines of the plot that have little relevance, such as the Little People, who could possibly be evil, but mostly just say “Ho Ho.” I just felt like there was so much wasted potential, as points that could have been deep and meaningful come across as trite and pretentious.
And as far as the plot is concerned, it is mostly bloated, repetitive, and, at points, ridiculous. Too many random superfluous nonsense and scenes that are just thrown in scatterbrain and have little value (Tengo’s relationship with the married woman, Aomame’s ventures with the police officer, as two examples). Despite the alternating storylines, the book feels all over the place. And yet, it is also so darn repetitive. How many more times do we have to hear via internal monologue what Tengo witnessed as a child? How many more times do we have to hear about Tengo’s impressions of holding Aomame’s hands? How many more times do we need to hear about the misshapen head of Ushikawa and his general repulsiveness? And, for everything, the ending just felt flat as well.
Yet, even with all my complaints, this is Murakami and there should be something to enjoy right? If there was one interesting aspect that I did like, it would be the book within a book aspect of the book Tengo helps to write, Air Chrysalis, and how aspects of it bleed into the real world. Along with this, there are some moments that were thought-provoking. Too bad these moments were seldom, though.
Despite having the common staples typical of the aforementioned Murakami shtick, at the end of the day 1Q84 was mostly bloated, repetitive, lacking, and unsatisfying.
“This land was no longer something apart from him, it was part of him like his arms and legs. His sweat and his blood were soaked into it. Like an old“This land was no longer something apart from him, it was part of him like his arms and legs. His sweat and his blood were soaked into it. Like an old tree, his roots went too deeply into their ground for him to ever be transplanted…A man had to make his try, and when that didn’t work he had to try something else. Try and keep trying. Endure and try again.”
Based on the historical Texas drouth in the 1950s, Elmer Kelton’s The Time It Never Rained is a realistic and powerful portrayal of a protagonist (Charlie Flagg) and others trying to make it and survive amid external circumstances and forces that seemingly are stripping them of both their livelihoods and their resources. I felt like Kelton’s book and story was so similar to The Grapes of Wrath thematically, as Charlie and the other farmers’ plight is very indicative of the Joads’ plight in Steinbeck’s novel. In The Time It Never Rained, Charlie has to contend with not only Mother Nature, but the government.
I think one of the first things that stood out about Kelton’s novel is his well-drawn and realistic characters. Charlie Flagg is like that stubborn, tough as nails uncle who is unwilling to bend and give in, but is a person of conviction and principles. He does not want a free handout from the government and sticks to his guns throughout. The other characters were also very well drawn, and I thought that Manuel Flores was one of more interesting characters, as we see a coming of age throughout the novel.
As stated earlier, Kelton’s work is heartfelt and he makes it very personal for the reader, and I think this is why we can readily get invested and care about their stories, particularly when they must deal with devastation and heartbreak in particular moments.
The Time It Never Rained was a powerful read about the struggle and fight to survive despite setback after setback. I’m glad this book was brought to my attention and look forward to more reads from Kelton in the future. ...more
Many other reviewers have attested to this, but this novel is one of those “there is quite a bit going on under the surface” kind of reads. I think ifMany other reviewers have attested to this, but this novel is one of those “there is quite a bit going on under the surface” kind of reads. I think if handled the right way, the subtleness and ambivalence can be quite effective and powerful to the story, and such is the case here in Elisa Shua Dusapin’s debut novel Winter in Sokcho.
The French Korean narrator works as a receptionist at a guest house in the Korean town of Sokcho. A graphic artist (Kerrand) arrives and stays at the lodge that the narrator work. He and the narrator form an acquaintance and a relationship of sorts (which, like much of the novel, is not clearly defined but rather revealed implicitly). Kerrand hopes to draw some inspiration from the setting and finish the novel he is illustrating.
One of my favorite and telling scenes in this book is a discussion that the narrator is having with Kerrand about his sketches and his novel. Kerrand intimates to the narrator that his characters are merely individuals—not heroes—trying to find and fill in their own story. I felt that scene was indicative and works as a microcosm for not only the two principle characters, but the novel as a whole. Both the narrator and Kerrand are trying to finish their own stories so to speak, fill in their own life meaning and identities and find themselves, and this scene underscores this recurrent theme and elements that works throughout the plot.
We as readers are given snatches and glimpses into the narrator’s life at various points that offer some context to putting everything together and understanding the narrator’s inner turmoil. (I thought it interesting also that the narrator is never truly identified by name throughout). We come to understand that the narrator does not know her father, as he left when she was very young, so his identity or whereabouts remains a mystery. The narrator carries on with what seems to be a very lacking and superficial relationship with her boyfriend, Jun-oh, but the narrator’s mother hopes that they will one day be married. We also learn through various moments that the narrator has a body image/eating disorder that seems to flare up at times of extreme difficulty or stress.
At a mere 150 pages plus, Winter is Sokcho is a very quietly contemplative and thought-provoking book, one that is very character-driven and naturally lends itself to thoughts and discussion upon completing the final page.
One of more remarkable things about this book is finding out that the author published this when she was just 24 years old! (I feel seriously jealous now). I love the author’s style of lyrical, illustrative prose and how she handled presenting the story to us.
And, not to say that you should judge a book by its cover, but the post card approach with Sokcho in the background is very illustrative and cool.
If you like a slightly ambivalent and subtle, thought-provoking, character-driven read, I definitely recommend this novel. I look forward to more works from this author. ...more
Only recently I had heard quite a bit about this novel and so I was glad to finally get to reading it.
I think there is a charm to this book in variouOnly recently I had heard quite a bit about this novel and so I was glad to finally get to reading it.
I think there is a charm to this book in various places. Maniac comes across as an underdog a reader will readily root for, and we cheer when he one ups the bullies and runs his way (quite literally) out of trouble at points. I thought there were several touching moments as well, especially how both Amanda and Maniac do not see color or the racial divide, but rather just see another individual as a friend, which goes against the East and West End. It goes a long way to show how much Maniac is accepted into Amanda’s family, and how Amanda’s family cares so much about him.
Also, I found Part 2 to be my favorite part of the novel. I enjoyed the parts with Greyson and Maniac developing a friendship and bond, and Greyson telling Maniac about his days in the minor leagues and baseball and growing up, and Maniac teaching Greyson how to read.
Some critics of the book have labelled the novel as “slow.” I would beg to differ. While I do think this book shares some criticism (for other things), certainly (at least to me) it did not come across as slow. In fact, I think quite the opposite is the case, as the book and the style of the writing borders on the verge of cartoonishness because of how quick events happen and sometimes in a caricatured, exaggerated way.
At the end of the day, I can see why this might be a hit with younger readers and audiences, and I would most likely have loved it back in 5th or 6th grade. As an adult, however, certain elements come across as being slightly glossed over in a superficial way, and some events are just a little too silly to be taken seriously (the frog bunt comes to mind). The character interactions are a little over-the-top, or cartoonish.
Maniac Magee is a quick and heartfelt read and points, and does cover some ground with the race issue, but some of the events in the book are just so sporadic, haphazard, or mind-boggling. The writing style is also just a bit too jumpy.
And do yourself a favor and skip that monstrosity known as the film version of this book from 2003. ...more
Probably the word that sums up the reading experience of this book the most is frustrating. It was a laborious task reading this book in more ways thaProbably the word that sums up the reading experience of this book the most is frustrating. It was a laborious task reading this book in more ways than one, yet amid the struggle there are poignant, emotional, and relevant moments into the lives of the key characters. However, these moments are seldom, having to wade through so much other stuff.
This book left me frustrated on two levels, both in the reading sense and emotionally. Let me explain. I think one of the issues I have with this book is that there is too much in way of stream of consciousness, scatterbrained, herky-jerky, overblown and jarring narrative style that stalls and diminishes a much of the power of the story. I know it is for effect, but it does not seem to work here, and just makes for quite a bit of tedium. Reading this book is on par with driving through dense fog. It was quite an effort at points, and I honestly just wanted to skim ahead during some of these overblown sections where randomness comes out of nowhere.
And, in another sense, this book is just too dark and depressing, and not in a way that made me emotionally invested due to lackluster, unsympathetic lead characters in Joe and Kerewin. There are heavy subjects and themes like child abuse contained within the book.
Another issue was that the book was tedious in the sense that is it vastly overwritten. There are literally passages, stretches, and sections of thirty or more pages where we are in a bar listening to characters order drinks, etc. where absolutely nothing of consequence happens. I understand that the author is trying to give us time to get to know the characters, but when the characters are underwhelming as well as the mundane scenes in the book, then it leaves an unsatisfied feeling for the reader.
And the ending was both ridiculous and pretentious, in my opinion.
I am one of those people who tries to finish books no matter what, but I was almost ready to cry uncle at several points. It is one of those books that I was just glad to be over and done with. ...more
The blurb on the back cover describes The Prince of Tides as a “huge, brash thunderstorm of a novel, …resounding with drama.” I do not disagree with aThe blurb on the back cover describes The Prince of Tides as a “huge, brash thunderstorm of a novel, …resounding with drama.” I do not disagree with any of that depiction, but I would say that the book really amps this up to an exceedingly high notch.
I understood before I picked up this book what I was getting into regarding subject matter, but, wow, this book is heavy. Virtually every character (even secondary) has some variation of dark, unlocked secrets, skeletons in the closet, extra baggage, or drama that surfaces at some point. It did get to be a little overwhelming and I was glad to be balancing out The Prince of Tides with another book. I do not think it was so much the subject matter, though, but rather the method that bugged me.
In the early portions of the novel, we find out that Tom Wingo’s twin sister Savannah was tried to commit suicide and he is summoned to intervene. Tom heads to New York and, while there, attempts to unlock the secrets that led to this attempt. We learn via a series of backstories and flashbacks (which Tom tells Savannah’s psychiatrist, Dr. Lowenstein), quite a bit about the family’s history, the dysfunction, the physical and mental abuse, and many other repressed memories that come to light.
Through Tom’s narration in the novel, which shifts around from the present and the past, we get to zoom in on various members of the Wingo family, their troubles, and a bit of their makeup. Pieces of the family’s troubles, pain, dysfunction, heartbreak, and tragedy are put together in sort of a fragmented way.
In my opinion, the biggest strength of this book is Conroy’s ability to dig into difficult, troubling subject matter related to family dysfunctions, abuse, and graphic violence that consumes one family as well as the dark consequences that come with this as a result.
However, I just felt like everything was way too excessive or amped up to the extreme in so many ways in The Prince of Tides. This book is quiet, yet loud; sentimental, yet brash; restraint, yet vulgar. These two diverging paths are presented in the extreme and in almost over the top sequences. This strange dichotomy made me feel like I was reading two different books. Tom’s deeply reflective and lyrical passages about his family are contrasted with over-the-top segments and scenes that almost strain credulity (one such example involves a tiger, another a porpoise). In terms of the dialogue and character exchange, it was a little lacking, as it felt like characters were constantly at each other’s throats if they were not lamenting or confessing quietly or sobbing about something. I also felt like there were too many diversions and sidebars that got things off track or could have been trimmed down significantly, especially the last part of the novel.
At the end of the day, I felt a little mixed. Conroy delves deeply into heavy-hitting and uncomfortable subjects, and so I see why it is par for the course to have so much drama as that is part of the book’s power, but this was a book that I cannot say I totally enjoyed picking up and reading every night. I think it was mostly because I knew that some impending disaster or doom was right around the corner. The Prince of Tides is a book about so many troubling themes which are brought to light, but maybe a little too excessively so.
While a key mystery pertains to The Vanishing Act of Esme Lennox (in fact, maybe even two or three), the novel itself it not your typical mystery whenWhile a key mystery pertains to The Vanishing Act of Esme Lennox (in fact, maybe even two or three), the novel itself it not your typical mystery when we think of the genre.
The novel shifts back and forth between time periods (two predominant ones, the 1930s and the present) as well as character perspectives. Within the plot, we discover under what circumstances a woman named Esme Lennox was institutionalized as well as the hidden effects this had on those in the present. The 1930s perspective gives glimpses of Esme’s upbringing and early youth as well as giving some background into her family. During this time, we come to understand a bit about her character and some of the conflicts she had with her parents and others. Flash forward to the present narration, a young woman named Iris gets a message that she has a great aunt—someone she has never heard of—who is being released from a psychiatric unit.
Maggie O’Farrell has a fragmented, jumpy way of bringing this story to light. There are no chapter delineations, but rather shifts back and in forth from various times and characters’ perspectives (Iris, Esme, Esme’s sister Kitty). Rather than being a deterrent, this type of narration seems to parallel and work in tandem with puzzling nature of Esme’s “imprisonment”, as we are given bits and pieces to try to put the entire picture together. And, while it does get a tad confusing sometimes, there is enough in the way of hints and clues to help us form a picture in the final parts (although I believe there is still some ambiguity in understanding the final scene). In this way, I really felt like this constant shifting back and forth was effective in creating the effect of the murky puzzle and mystery that slowly unfolds and comes into view.
Among the many powerful aspects, The Vanishing Act of Esme Lennox lends itself to reflection after the final page and is a discussion piece about the nature of institutionalizing those who are deemed “different” or “atypical” of certain societal norms. O’Farrell handles the story eloquently, and has the right amount of pathos, heart-wrenching moments that help you empathize with Esme, and moments of intrigue and mystery. The novel is as much about the tragedy of a life lost as well as a mystery into uncovering the background into Esme, her family, and their situation as it is coming to terms with how the events and moments of the past have affected relationships in the present.
I thought this was a unique take on the mystery genre, and one of the more original novels I have read recently. I had not heard of this author or her works, but I am glad this novel was brought to my attention and look forward to reading O’Farrell more in the future. ...more
This review is solely on my impressions of the book and nothing else.
Color me jaded, but I found the voice of the narrator to be quit grating: littleThis review is solely on my impressions of the book and nothing else.
Color me jaded, but I found the voice of the narrator to be quit grating: little too cutesy and smart alleck-y and the way he presented the story contrived and annoying. The format and flow of the book is too choppy and scatterbrained.
I think at some points the narrator is trying to take on some important life issues in telling his story and there is a “coming of age” in here on some certain level I suppose, but the way he reveals it is often in a superficial way that reveals very little meaning or insight.
The narrator, Junior, speaks about his life growing up on the Spokan Indian Reservation and the family struggles and his struggles to make it in life and his life lessons along the way. At one point, he is given advice to move away from the “Rez” and to go to a white school so he can have a better opportunity for education and advancing in life. Because of this he is labelled a “traitor” by certain individuals on the reservation.
As stated earlier, there are some poignant themes contained within this book--acceptance, poverty, bullying, hope, goals, etc.—but every single one of these fall by the wayside because moments are either glossed over, treated in a superficial, shallow way, or dealt with in a cartoonish, crude or silly manner.
Not only this, but the “humor” in the book is mostly comprised of humorless, sophomoric, crude language, potty jokes, stereotyping, etc. Not funny. Sorry.
The narrator seems to want to keep everything real, but then lumps particular belief systems, races, etc. into tiny little boxes.
And some of his decision making is rather head scratching, like being friends with that jerk Rowdy, who basically treats him like garbage the entirety of the book.
I know this is considered young adult (which I question), and that many people seem to love this book, so I know I’m in the minority, but I didn’t see much of value here.
I’m sure there are impressive YA books about struggling to make it and get a valued education and learning life’s lessons through a coming of age tale. This is not that book....more
I read one of Paul Auster’s works, The New York Trilogy, a few years back, enjoyed it immensely, and it was good to get back to reading him again. I tI read one of Paul Auster’s works, The New York Trilogy, a few years back, enjoyed it immensely, and it was good to get back to reading him again. I think what Auster manages to do in both of the works I’ve read is create a sense of layers of meaning in both the real world and the literary world (the one being written on paper). Both in The Trilogy and Oracle Night, there’s a sense of metacognition or thinking about thinking, or thinking and reflection on the world. Events, people, conflict play out and have many layers to them. In short, he is an author that makes you think and that is what I’ve loved about reading his books so far.
I will have to do the calculations, but I think Auster’s book might at some points cross over into a “story within a story within a story.” We have Paul Auster writing about his protagonist Sidney Orr, a writer who is working on a manuscript about a man named Nick Bowen who, in this book, is focused on reading the writings of Sylvia Maxwell, an author who has written Oracle Night. Auster manages to intertwine all of these elements and blend them into one engaging plot, and, at points, the plot of the writings bleed into the real life aspects of the story.
It’s really hard to go into particulars about plot with a Paul Auster novel, because sometimes I think that the story or meaning under the surface is far more impressionable and meaningful that the surface level plot. However, to give some context, Oracle Night’s premise involves novelist Sydney Orr having recently been released from the hospital after overcoming a near fatal illness, and his transition back into life with his wife and his friend, an author named John. There’s an interesting scene where Orr visits a stationary shop and buys a blue notebook and this sort of becomes his inspiration to begin to draft a story. There are many parallels to the story he is devising and his real life, and certain things seem to take on a life of their own.
Within Auster’s work, there are certain elements that the author investigates, one of which is the element of how future events work. In many ways, Oracle Night is a mediation on life and its struggles, and how quite often the literary and literal world aren’t as far apart as we imagine.
There are many layers to this novel, and this is a book that will have you reflecting after you read the final page, which I think is the hallmark of an engaging and thoughtful book....more
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