Showing posts with label 2008 Shortlist (F). Show all posts
Showing posts with label 2008 Shortlist (F). Show all posts

Sunday, January 15, 2012

Laura's Review - Fault Lines

This multi-generational family saga explores the impact of World War II and Nazi Germany, from some very unusual angles. It's told through the eyes of four 6-year-olds, each from a different generation. The reader meets each generation through Sol, a precocious boy living in California in 2004. His father Randall works as a computer programmer, and circumstances have recently forced him to take a job with higher pay but a much longer commute. Randall has a distant relationship with his mother, Sadie, and is closer to his grandmother, Erra, a professional singer known as Kristina in her youth. Sol's section of the novel ends as the entire family arrives in Germany to visit Erra's dying sister.

From there, author Nancy Huston takes us back to 1945 one generation at a time, from Randall to Sadie to Kristina (all age 6). She peels the onion of family relationships and secrets to show how they came to North America, and the physical and emotional toll wrought by the Nazi regime. I can't say much without spoilers, but their story was not at all what I expected. Judaism and Nazi atrocities played a part, but in unusual ways. And both the family tree and the inter-generational relationships were much more intricate than they first appeared.

I found Erra/Kristina the most interesting character, perhaps because she appeared in each generation's story. She arrived on the scene first as a staunchly independent elderly woman who dearly loves her great-grandson, and is appalled at some of his parents' philosophies. She despairs over their plans to surgically remove a birthmark. Her fears seem irrational, but by the time Kristina appeared as a child, I understood the birthmark's significance and her modern-day reaction was completely understandable. Fault Lines was filled with revelations like this, that really drove home the importance of understanding the societal and familial forces that shape each generation. This was a well-written, enjoyable, and thought-provoking novel.


Cross-posted from my blog

Tuesday, January 10, 2012

Laura's Review - Lullabies for Little Criminals

Baby lives with her father, Jules, a heroin addict. She doesn't remember her mother:
He and my mother had both been fifteen when I was born. She had died a year later, so he'd been left to raise me all by himself. It didn't make him any more mature than any other twenty-six-year-old, though. He practically fell on the floor and died when a song he liked came on the radio. He was always telling people that he was color-blind because he thought it made him sound original. He also didn't look too much like a parent ... I thought of him as my best friend, as if we were almost the same age. (p. 4)
Jules tries to make a living and support his habit by peddling merchandise at flea markets. To stay one step ahead of their landlord they seem to always be on the move. Baby knows how to fit her entire life into a small suitcase. Despite all these disadvantages, Baby is smart and does well in school. She seems determined to overcome the odds, but her world is turned upside down when Jules goes into rehab, and Baby into the foster care system. Over the next year, Baby moves in and out of care, is placed into a remedial program at school, and gets sucked into the unhealthy lifestyle on the streets of Montreal.

Baby narrates her story with an authentic twelve-year-old's voice, and really got on my nerves for the first half of the book. But as her personal hardships intensified, so did my sympathy, and I found myself pulling for her. She was often left on her own for days at a time, and had to grow up far too quickly. I understood why she did what she did, but wished I could influence her choices (I'm avoiding spoilers here).

Such a realistic and gritty story should have been "unputdownable." It thought it was an interesting and unique book, but had no problem setting it aside. It may have just been my mood this past week; I still recommend reading this Orange Prize nominee.



Cross-posted from my blog.

Thursday, December 8, 2011

Lottery by Patricia Wood (Jill)


Lottery
By Patricia Wood
Completed December 7, 2011

Perry L. Crandall is not retarded. He'll tell you this several times as he narrates Lottery. But he is several things: wise beyond his years, kind, compassionate and darn right likeable. And he makes Patricia Wood's debut novel a joy to read.

Perry lives with his Gram, works at the local marina and studies words every day. Sadly, when his grandmother dies, he's left to deal with his family - a pack of vultures that pick apart Perry's meager inheritance and send him on his way. Thankfully, Perry also has good friends at work, who take him under their wings and give him a place to stay. Perry is good with money and likes to play the lottery. And then the unthinkable happens - he wins millions from the state lottery. And here come the vultures (aka brothers and sisters-in-law) again.

As you learn about Perry's plight with his family, you just want to call a lawyer for him. But as you read the story, you realize that Perry can handle this. And he does - beautifully. While he deals with his crazy family, he forms a truer bond with his friends. He's generous when he needs to be and lucrative in other places. Perry calls himself an "auditor" - a person who listens to the world around him. And because he listens a lot, he understands what people want and need.

Lottery is a true blue, heart-warming novel. It's not a complex read, and the messages of friendship and love make this book a wonderful story. I highly recommend Lottery to anyone who needs to find hope in humanity. ( )

Thursday, November 3, 2011

Laura's Review - When we Were Bad

I love it when I have an unexpectedly delightful reading experience like When we Were Bad. This unobtrusive little novel about a family of English Jews took me completely by surprise. Things start with a bang when the Rubins' eldest son Leo runs away with another woman just one minute before his wedding. Our first impression of Leo's family, then, is seen through their reactions to this scandalous event.

Leo's mother Claudia is a well-known rabbi, one of the first women in her field and highly respected by everyone. She's worked hard all her life, but she's good at what she does, and knows it. Claudia is also intensely committed to maintaining the Rubins' image as the family that has it all. This is all the more important since her book is about to be published. When Leo runs off, her greatest concern is not for him or his relationship, but on keeping up appearances as a family.

Claudia's husband Norman has supported her career all these years, keeping his own ambitions largely to himself. Daughter Frances is married with an infant and two older stepchildren. Two younger adult children, Simeon and Emily, are still trying to establish their independence. All are intensely loyal to one another, and especially to Claudia. She's formidable, and such a strong force in their lives that not one of them will make a move without considering the impact on her. But this also causes a lot of sneaking around. Norman, for example, is working on a book of his own but can't find the right time to tell Claudia. Frances feels trapped by marriage and parenthood, but feels completely alone and unable to ask her family for support. And even Claudia, so cool and collected on the outside, has her own secret problems to deal with.

So much family drama makes When we Were Bad sound like an intense read, but it's served with a generous helping of humor. Just as I was getting all teary over developments in one character's life, something else would happen to make me laugh. Each of the characters are tremendously flawed, and yet completely likeable. On the one hand, I felt I should despise Claudia for controlling everything around her and stifling others. But I loved her for what she had achieved, and for her fierce devotion to her family. As each character's story line moved towards its conclusion, I felt both happy and sad about this family that I'd come to know so well. We went through a lot together over 321 pages, and I won't soon forget it.



Cross-posted from my blog

Wednesday, March 2, 2011

Nickelini's Review -- Lullabies for Little Criminals

Here it is, already March 2011, and our Orange January is far behind us. I read two Orange books this year: The Blind Assassin, by Margaret Atwood and Lullabies for Little Criminals, by Heather O'Neill. I'm finally here to post my reviews of these wonderful books. Better late than never?

Last year I stumbled upon a copy of the audiobook of Lullabies for Little Criminals for twenty-five cents. I knew nothing about it--didn't even know it was an Orange book--but at that price, there wasn't any risk. Well! Was I ever in for a treat when I got to it. Here's what I had to say back in January:

Rating: 5 stars!

Comments: I picked this audiobook without knowing anything at all about it, so it was all a surprise to me. Now, a few days later, I have no doubt that this tragicomic book will make my top 5 list for 2011. I listened to this audiobook, and then right out and bought a paper copy. I have ordered copies for a couple of people in my family who I think will also really like it. It’s that good.

The narrator of Lullabies for Little Criminals seems to be an adult retelling the events following her twelfth birthday. Her fifteen year old parents labeled her with the unfortunate name of Baby, which was meant to be ironic and she was told that it meant she was “cool and gorgeous.” Her mom died while she was a baby, and she had been raised by her childlike, dysfunctional heroin addicted father, Jules in a series of seedy hotels in Montreal. For the first part of the book, I found Baby’s voice utterly charming and rather funny. However, as the story progressed and Baby’s life spiraled out of control, I realized that this book was significantly more serious than I had originally expected. Baby’s voice, however, remained constant throughout—poetic, keenly observant, beautifully sad and vivid, both wry and winsome at the same time. Baby is smitten with low-lifes and bohemians, and this book is full of them—guidance from healthy adults is sorely missing.

O’Neill is shrewdly accurate in capturing the dialogue of this culture. The reader of this audiobook, Miriam McDonald, captured the tone perfectly. The author gives us a view of the gritty side of Montreal seen through the eyes of a twelve-year old, full of her innocence and imagination. Beyond that, the writing was a delight to both hear and read. I just didn’t want this book to end, which is unusual for me. Unfortunately for us, thus far Lullabies is O’Neill’s only novel.

Recommended for: While I widely recommend this book, it isn’t for every reader, despite winning the CBC Canada Reads competition in 2007. Readers who are highly sensitive to swearing will quickly be turned off. The bad language, however, is not gratuitous, but an accurate portrayal of the language of her world. Further, the book dives deep into the nasty side of life, including drug addictions and child prostitution. But unless you’re extremely squeamish about these topics, I urge you to give this book a try.

Lullabies for Little Criminals was nominated for the Orange Prize, Governor General's Award, IMPAC Dublin Literary award, and a whole slew of other prizes.

Tuesday, January 4, 2011

Laura's Review - Lottery

Perry Crandall is a 31-year-old man with an IQ of 76, which is just above the level that defines mental retardation. Perry was raised by his grandmother and grandfather, his own parents having bailed on him for reasons that are never fully explained. Thanks to Gram's affirming parenting style and deep love for Perry, he grew into an adult capable of living independently, although complex decisions are difficult for him to make on his own. Perry's life changes permanently when Gram passes away, and shortly afterwards he wins $12M in the lottery.

Perry is innocent and trusting ("suggestible," Gram would say), so his family easily convinces him to let them sell Gram's house and keep most of the proceeds. After Perry wins the lottery, he is besieged by his money-grubbing "cousin-brothers" (his mother's children by another man), and a host of organizations all hoping to benefit from his windfall. Fortunately, Perry has two people who care about him: his boss Gary, and co-worker Keith. Gary provides Perry with an apartment above his store and includes Perry in family gatherings. Keith grows from friend to protector, bringing common sense to situations where Perry lacks experience. Keith uses colorful language, drinks too much, and generally abuses his body; his earthiness is a marked but amusing contrast to Perry's naiveté.

Perry's story is told in the first person, and much like the character of Jack in Emma Donoghue's Room, the narrative voice rang true for me. Seeing the world through Perry's eyes, but armed with a better knowledge of the real world, I could anticipate his brothers' shenanigans, and I knew when Perry was misinterpreting people's actions. And I also felt his ups and downs, his elation and his grief. There were some aspects of the story I wish were better explained, especially some details surrounding Perry's family. But the real story revolved and Perry and his relationships with Keith, Gary, and a young woman named Cherry, who become more like a family than his brothers could ever be. This book moved beyond a "person with a disability overcomes adversity" story, to a story of love and devotion with a surprising emotional impact.



Cross-posted from my blog

Thursday, July 8, 2010

Laura's Review - The Outcast

When he was only 10 years old, Lewis Aldridge witnessed a terrible tragedy. Unable to express his feelings and shunned by his father, Lewis grew up a troubled young man. The Outcast opens with a prologue set in 1957, when 19-year-old Lewis is returning home after two years in prison. Sadie Jones then takes her readers back in time to recount Lewis' childhood and the events that led him to commit a crime.

Lewis' father Gilbert served in World War II, and when he returned home in 1945 Lewis was only 7. He didn't really know his father at all, and struggled with his intrusion into the family and his close relationship with his mother. After the tragedy, Lewis withdrew into himself. The other children in his village didn't know how to respond to him, and the adults were disturbed by his silence. In his teens, Lewis expressed his intense grief and self-loathing in increasingly harmful ways, eventually leading to imprisonment.

As Lewis' life fell apart, he couldn't help but compare himself with the Carmichaels, a model family in his village. Dicky Carmichael was Gilbert's boss; he and his wife Claire host an annual New Year's party and weekly Sunday lunches, all with plenty of cocktails to go around. Dicky and Claire's older daughter Tamsin is a beautiful young woman who knows how to use her sexuality; their younger daughter Kit is precocious and cares deeply for Lewis. But the Carmichaels have dark secrets of their own, which remain carefully concealed even as the Aldridge family's troubles are exposed to public viewing.

When Lewis is released from prison, he is thrust back into village society and gossip, and struggles to find his way. He gravitates toward the Carmichael girls, even as their parents reject him because of his criminal record. Tensions escalate, particularly after Lewis discovers the Carmichael secret, and all hell breaks loose.

I read this book in two days, because I just couldn't put it down. Lewis is a sympathetic character, and I was pulling for him throughout. He had been through so much, and had so little support. It was easy to see how he became so troubled, and I nearly cried whenever he began to go off the rails, or struggled with his place in society. The Outcast is intense, dramatic, and highly recommended.

Friday, January 1, 2010

The Outcast by Sadie Jones (Jill)

The Outcast
By Sadie Jones
Completed January 1, 2010


Lewis Aldridge was an outcast – shunned by his father who reminded him too much of his deceased wife, bewildered by his young stepmother and largely ignored by his peers in his home village. Alone and hurt, Lewis became a man torn between the hatred he felt for being cast out and the desperation to feel accepted. In her debut novel, The Outcast, Sadie Jones exposed parts of Lewis’s soul who were hard to read about, but like a bad car accident, you keep looking, hoping to learn more.

Lewis will be a character that I won’t soon forget. Most of the time, he was a character worthy of sympathy – a terrible victim of cirumstance that was acting out against society. Then, Lewis would show uglier colors and deeper flaws. He did unforgiveable things. And his bad reputation made him the target for any accusation – from rape to theft – whether he committed the crimes or not.

As I finished The Outcast, I realized that Lewis was not the only “outcast” in this book. His parents were sad and lost too. His friends’ parents, the Carmichaels, were unscrupable. When Lewis made this realization, he felt even more broken. The only good in the world, for him, was 15-year-old Kit Carmichael, who was the constant recipient of her father’s physical abuse. He was determined to help her, despite the personal costs.

It’s hard to say one could “enjoy” this book. The characters, though real, were tragic. Their destinies did not seem optimistic. But the ending left you with a glimmer of hope that the strength of the human spirit could endure all. ( )

Sunday, July 13, 2008

Fault Lines

I appreciated the cleverness of the structure of this novel, managing to capture 4 such different stories into four generations of a family (and all still living) was clever.

But "vibrant, richly drawn and captivating"? No.

The central character, Erra, really didn't convince me. Yes, it was a fascinating insight to yet another Nazi atrocity (and of course it is an atrocity, I find the book unconvincing, I am not disputing the historical accuracy), but it was not enough to build a whole novel around.

The ruthless academic grandmother was more convincing but so dislikeable, the great grandson Sol was irritating beyond belief (though what a mother!). Only Randall rang true for me, a whole novel from Randall's point of view I would have found quite enjoyable.

Leaving aside the weaknesses in structure and character, I did find the novel very easy to read and I admired the style that stayed somehow consistent while still reading very definitely as four separate voices.

I would try another Nancy Huston but I am surprised to see this on the shortlist.