The Origin of Species – by Nino RicciNino Ricci’s
The Origin of Species tells the story of Alex, a graduate student living in Montreal in the 1980’s, and the diverse set of characters he interacts with on a day-to-day basis. Alex is dissatisfied and distant in most aspects of his life, unable to focus on his work, avoiding his therapist and being generally uncomfortable in his friendships and relationships. He lives largely absorbed by his past, notably by his experiences with his Swedish lover Ingrid and his past live-in girlfriend Liz. A disturbing incident in the Galapagos Islands, which is described in the second half of the book, continues to haunt him.
Nino Ricci’s writing has a lyrical quality and
The Origin of Species is a beautifully written book. The diversity and character of the city of Montreal are nicely described, making me want to join Alex on one of his walks around the city. The story is populated by a diverse set of interesting characters, the inspiring Esther, the courageous Maria, Alex’s colleague Jiri who intrudes on Alex’s life and Desmond, Alex’s irksome Galapagos travel companion.
However, the personalities of Ingrid and Liz are ill defined and hard to relate to. It is also difficult to like Alex, or to understand what others see in him. When his experiences in the Galapagos Islands are revealed, the cause of his current problems becomes clearer. After understanding this part of Alex’s life, the story seemed to hang together a bit better for me. But despite being touching and thought provoking, the lack of a sympathetic main character made
The Origin of Species a challenging and long read.
Hannah Waters and the Daughter of Johann Sebastian Bach – by Barbara Nickel
Barbara Nickel has written a book for all ages with
Hannah Waters and the Daughter of Johann Sebastian Bach. The story is set equally in modern day Saskatchewan, where 12-year-old Hannah Waters has moved with her father after the tragic death of her mother, a professional violinist, and in Cohen, Germany in the 1720’s, the home of Catharina Dorthea Bach, aged 11, the only daughter of Johann Sebastian Bach. The two girls “meet” while experiencing stressful times in their young lives and imagine they see and hear each other while listening to or performing music.
Two common threads connect the girls lives, the first being their relationships with their parents. The struggle each girl experiences with her respective fathers is woven nicely throughout the story. While Catharina struggles largely in isolation, Nickel provides Hannah with other adult figures to rely on, with the benefit of adding some interesting characters to the book. The girls also share a love of Bach’s “Concerto for Two violins in D Minor”, also known as the Bach Double, one of Bach’s most famous and respected works. Nickel plays with the timing of when Bach composed the piece to fit the storyline. Both girls fall in love with the music, for Catharina as Bach composes it and for Hannah as she studies it. The time-stretched friendship is an unusual concept and in this case, it feels real, balanced nicely between imagination and reality.
Although written as a pre-teen story (ages 11+), I would also recommend this book for adults as it is a thoroughly enjoyable and uplifting read.
River of the Brokenhearted – by David Adams Richards
David Adams Richards’
River of the Brokenhearted is a family saga of three generations of the King family which is set along the banks of the Miramichi River in New Brunswick. After several setbacks in England, George King immigrates to New Brunswick in the 1920’s and marries the much younger Janie McLeary, a New Brunswick native of Irish descent. George and Janie are both talented musicians and after several failed attempts at business, George decides to buy a movie projector and open a theatre. Their success puts George and Janie at odds with Joey Elias, a successful local businessman. Joey has a relationship with the Druken family, also recent immigrants who coincidentally have a long standing feud with the King family carried over from England. The book covers the relationship between the Kings, the Drukens and Joey Elias over the next 75 years.
Having read a lot of Richards’ novels before, the themes of envy, greed and pettiness are familiar, as are the inclusion of some very sad and some very brave moments. However, I found his writing style different in this story, which is told from the viewpoint of Janie and George’s grandson Wendell. It reads very much like a story someone is telling their children or grandchildren about their family’s history. I felt a great deal of warmth and sympathy for Miles King, Wendell’s father, as he weathers the cruelty Rebecca Druken, one of the few truly evil characters that Richards has created. I found Miles’ respect and love for his wife and children so touching, rounding out his fascinating character. If you are a Richards fan, I think you will really enjoy this book.
The Flying Troutmans – by Miriam Toews
The Flying Troutmans is the story of a struggling family based in Manitoba who head out on an unusual road trip south of the border. Hattie Troutman returns home from Paris after receiving a desperate call from her 11 year-old niece Thebes. Hattie’s chronically mentally ill sister Min is in serious trouble and Thebes turns to Hattie, needing help for herself, her mother and her 15 year-old brother Logan. After successfully delivering Min to the psychiatric ward, Hattie, who is feeling overwhelmed at home with the two kids, decides to take them on a search for their estranged father Cherkis. With little to go on, Hattie packs up the kids and a van and heads south.
The story mainly focuses on Hattie’s growing relationship with Thebes and Logan and on their brother/sister relationship. The dialogue in this book is so well written, feeling absolutely natural and being quite funny at times despite the underlying sadness of the story. Thebes and Logan are great characters: quirky, funny, mature and talented. The author uses a series of flashbacks to shed light on Hattie’s relationship with Min and their parents as well as on Min’s experiences as a mother. The memories of Min with her children were the most touching, helping me to understand the source of their confidence and optimism. One of my favourite conversations Hattie has with Logan occurs while he is playing basketball:
“What do you think about when you shoot?”
“Nothing.”
“Oh really? You just concentrate entirely on shooting?”
“Yeah, I guess.”“Do you worry that the ball won’t go in?”
“No, I always believe that it will. Every time.” “Seriously? Even when you’ve missed a bunch of shots?” “Yeah, I think it’s gonna go in every time.”
“And then, so, when it doesn’t go in do you feel all disillusioned?” “No, not at all, ‘cause I’m always sure the next one will go in.”I found it took a few chapters to warm up to this book, as Hattie’s situation is very difficult at first. But with a bit of a twist at the end, I felt genuinely happy and optimistic for Hattie, Min, Logan and Thebes.
While far from my least favourite novel of 2011, it's definitely one of my year's biggest disappointments. For the past few years all I've heard of is Alan Bradley: The Sweetness at the Bottom of the Pie,
Tales of the Canadian North, a 500 page collection of essays and short stories from the late 1800s and early 1900s, was the most difficult book for me to get through in 2011. It wasn't the worst book I read this year, but it was certainly a tough slog. Not only was it 500 pages, but each page was divided into 2 columns and the font was ridiculously small. And a good many of the stories were so monotonously boring.
Interestingly, there seems to be way more stories about "the other woman" than "the other man" but Guy de Maupassant's "A New Year's Eve Gift" takes it from the latter's perspective.
If you took the old adage about teaching a man to fish and added a bit about teaching a man to teach his community to fish and making sure they had access to a lake and a cheap source of bait, you'd have (besides an awkwardly long adage), the premise behind Dr. Abdallah Daar's and Dr. Peter's Singer's The Grandest Challenge.
I finally found a Christmas story not about feeding the hungry. Though it does involve a Christmas goose, so I guess it's still food-related.
I once offered Kraft Dinner and a hockey puck as a prize in my Canadian Book Challenge. Lord knows I'm not against Canadian stereotyping. Canadian Jingle Bells, A Moose in a Maple Tree, and the The Night Before a Canadian Christmas, by Troy Townsin and illustrated by Jennifer Harrington, abound in such stereotypes. The children who are nestled have visions of poutine instead of sugarplums. I should love these books. Sadly, I don't.
A few morality thoughts this week. First, how do you feel about Google books? Each Short Story Monday I highlight a short story that I find for free online. But this week I wanted to read a Canadian Christmas story and couldn't find any except for some at Google books. I know Google books is controversial but at least they provide a link to the publisher and the anthology, Tales of Christmas, in which Joan Sennette's "Amanda's Special Gift" appears is found at Breakwater Books for just $2, if you're interested.
My faithful readers might recognize Richard B. Wright's Clara Callan as the book that has somehow eluded my clutches the longest. I've had this paperback since it was first released in 2002, though I didn't buy it. Back in Rankin Inlet, Nunavut the laundry room at our our apartment building was an anonymous book trading depot. We'd read a book, stick it on a shelf in the laundry room, take someone else's donation, and no one ever discussed it. There couldn't have been more than 25 couples in the whole building, we were all reading each others' books, we were all even social with one another-- yet no one ever said, "what did you think of the Life of Pi?" Odd. It was there I picked up Richard B. Wright's Clara Callan. Unlike the others, however, it never made it back to the laundry room. It traveled with me as we moved back to Newfoundland, then back to Nunavut (this time trying out Iqaluit), and 3 years ago found itself in a suitcase full of books trekking its way over to Yellowknife in the Northwest Territories.
It doesn't look all that exciting, doesn't look like they were marketing the book toward my gender (on my edition they chose a blurb from Chatelaine to grace the front rather than the Globe and Mail quote they stuck on the back). It's also described as "powerful" and "moving," which is most often code for pretentious and boring.
Last week Margot at Joyfully Retired linked to this story at The Plough, which offers up a large assortment of Christmas tales. "Brother Robber" is listed amongst the Christmas stories for children.
And Shot at Dawn by John Wilson:
For the record, I'm a bigger fan of Margaret Atwood than Stephen King. Atwood crafts a sentence like nobody's business, but-- and this is odd considering his specialty is supernatural horror-- I'd give King the points for capturing domesticity.
As I mentioned yesterday I was contacted recently by a journalist named Verna Kuutti from Finland who was writing an article about Canadian literature. In return, it got me to thinking about Finnish authors.
Years ago, my future wife and I worked summer jobs on a crew of groundskeepers at Memorial University. Many days during our down times someone would throw out a simple trivia game: Name a band starting with N. Name an Al Pacino movie. And so on. It'd pass the time and was mild fun until one particular girl on the crew insisted on making it about her: Try and guess my favourite song! Who knows my favourite food? Irritating, but we've since had loads of fun at her expense. She's now the go-to reference when we make fun of self-absorbed people.
Published by the Mary Kaeser Library Board, I wasn't sure what to expect with Sandra Dolan's Wooden Boats and Iron People: The History of Fort Smith, NWT. With no offense intended to the board, I can't imagine they're often in the business of publishing, and outside of Fort Smith residents, I don't expect they'd count on a wide audience.
