Category: General Fiction/Literature Page 34 of 49

by Elan Mastai
eARC, 384 pg.
Dutton, 2017

Read: November 21 – 23, 2016

Avery Brooks famously asked, “Where are the flying cars? I was promised flying cars! I don’t see any flying cars! Why? Why? Why?” Elan Mastai’s book finally provides the answer. Simply put: we had it — flying cars, routine space flights, robots/other tech dressing us, feeding us, doing the everyday jobs that need to be done so that humans can focus on working in labs to make the world an even better place, to make the next technological leap forward. Essentially, everything that Science Fiction of the 1950’s told us to expect, we lived in George Jetson’s world.

Until July 11, 2016 when the first time machine was turned on and things went wrong, resulting in 40 years of history being rewritten and one man — Tom Barren — was the only one to know that we are now living in a dystopia. It’s a dystopia for everyone on Earth, but Tom, that is — his life in the 2016 that we know is much better than it was in the “original” 2016. So now Tom has to decide, does he try to restore the timeline (if he can even figure out how to do so), or does he keep things the way they are?

That’s less than you can see on Goodreads/Mastai’s site/Web retailers — and yet I think I gave away too much. But really, that’s barely scratching the surface.

There’s a great mix of detail to the science (at least the ideas and theories behind it), yet keeping it at the level where we don’t get bogged down in technicalities (and kept Mastai from having to work them out) — he gets away with it by comparing it to the way that we don’t really understand how hydroelectric dams or incandescent light bulbs work.

There’s the literary equivalent to that scene from The Wire‘s 4th episode — it’s a mixture of genius and profanity and poetry. Mostly profanity.

We’re going to be talking about Elan Mastai the way we recently talked about Ernest Cline or Andy Weir next year (assuming I can predict anything) — and he deserves it. The voice grabs you right away from the humor, the honesty — the trouble with time travel grammar. I really wish that Jonathan Tropper’s endorsement of the book wasn’t right there on the front cover, because it feels like a cheat to compare Mastai to him now, but I want to. He’s got the same mix of humor, heart, drama, inspiration as Tropper, he just blends science fiction themes in with those.

Tom Barren’s a great character (a questionable person, but a great character) that you’ll love spending time with. There are really a lot of great characters here, but he’s the only one I feel safe discussing. There are characters with warts, strengths, weaknesses, courage, bravery, humanity in all shapes and sizes — some noble, some despicable, some pathetic. As is frequently the case, seeing multiple versions of the same characters in the various timelines tells you a lot about the people and/or worlds they live in.

Tom’s father, the one who developed the time machine — has some fantastic theories about time travel — it’s not just about time, it’s about space (between the earth’s rotation, movement through space, etc.), and for time travel to be really possible, both have to be addressed. Not only does it clear the TARDIS from every critique of time travelers/machines mentioned in the book, but it’s a really, really good point.

It’s one of those magic books that you don’t want to end, because you’ll have to leave the characters and world — but that you can’t get through fast enough because you just have to know how it turns out.
Is it flawless? No, I’m sure it’s not, but unlike ever other book I’ve read this year (including the ones I’ve loved), I can’t think of a single problem. That says a lot to me.

I have not been able to stop talking about this book for a week now — I think my wife and kids have started ignoring me when I bring it up. All Our Wrong Todays is a book that practically demands over-hyping — it’s only a huge amount of restraint that keeps me from spilling everything. I have a list of people I want to buy this for (started compiling it when I was about 10% finished), and the list is currently long enough now that I wouldn’t be able to buy any books for myself until June 2017 — so, sorry everyone, buy your own.

I don’t know if I’ll be able to watch/read more time travel again — especially time travel involving love stories — but man, it’s absolutely worth it if this was my last. Pre-order this one now so that you can dive into it as soon as possible.

—–

5 Stars

Disclaimer: I received this eARC from Dutton via NetGalley in exchange for this post — thanks to both for this.

Chapel of Ease by Alex Bledsoe

By HCNewton

On November 23, 2016

In Alex Bledsoe, Fantasy, Fiction, General Fiction/Literature, Tufa

Chapel of Ease

by Alex Bledsoe
Series: Tufa, #4

Hardcover, 315 pg.
Tor Books, 2016

Read: November 19, 2016

“Sometimes the best mysteries are never solved, because the mystery is too important to lose. This is the story about one of those mysteries. Most of it’s true, and the parts that ain’t, well, they still sound true.”

It’s time to return to Needsville, TN, the home of the Tufa for the latest installment in one of the best ongoing Fantasy around. One of the best things about this series is how every book is completely different from its predecessors, but they all clearly belong to the same series.

After a quick tease, we enter the story in New York City where an up-and-coming musical writer/composer and a well-established director are casting for an off-Broadway musical (the opening line of which was quoted above). There’s something about the story and songs penned by Ray Parrish that draws everyone who reads and/or hears them in as surely as moths to a flame. One such person was Matt Johanssen, who becomes friends with Ray as well as one of the more dedicated cast members.

The twist in this tale comes from the source of Ray’s material — old (and not-so-old) Tufa stories and music. As anyone who knows these people realizes, people back home are not going to look kindly on this. There are a couple of people on the fringes of Ray’s world that make it clear that the Tufa want something out of Ray — ideally, a cessation of any musical or play or anything ending up in public. Ray will not be dissuaded, this is the story he wants to tell — whether people in Needsville want him to or not.

Just before the much-talked about play opens, Ray dies in his sleep and it falls upon Matt to bring his ashes home to his family. While there, he has the opportunity to look into the places and people this play is based on — and maybe get an idea what the central mystery of the play is about. Ray’d played his cards close to the chest on this topic and without him around to tell the cast, someone has to do some first-hand research. So, while mourning his friend and getting to know his family, Matt finds himself on the verge of instigating a feud while doing his research.

Now, it’s not unusual for a Tufa novel to feature an outsider’s first encounter with the Tufa. But this time, the book is just about that — there’s so little action outside of this story that it really doesn’t merit attention (at least not now). In these pages we have a first person narrator as the person encountering the culture. This gives everything an immediacy, an intimacy that we don’t normally get to these. Also, the narrow concentration keeps the reader focused on what’s going on with the Parrishes and Matt, without worrying about the Tufa politics, shifting power, and so on (it’s there, and there are changes in town, but that’s not what the novel is about).

In many ways, it’s not a novel about the Tufa — it just happens that they’re around, it’s a novel about Matt and Ray. But once you throw the Tufa in, you end up with something that’s not your typical story about a dancer/actor from NYC returning his friends’ ashes to the Appalachian town he grew up in.

I thought Matt was great — as was his dawning realization that he wasn’t in the world he knew anymore, and how he reacted to that realization. The way he stepped into parts of the culture he was exposed to was well handled, second only to the way he went about fighting against or struggling with the rest.

You do get to see your favorite recurring characters and they make references to events in the other novels, so readers of the series do get to check in on things other than the Parrishes — please don’t misunderstand. The novel’s focus isn’t on that, however.

If you even glance at the cover blurb, you know that someone has to die so that there’s an urn for Matt to bring to Cloud County, but Ray’s inevitable death was a doozy — and the memorial service held for him was one of the more moving things I’ve read this year (the impromptu memorial in New York held by friends/cast, that is — the wake the Tufa held was a different kind of experience). Making you care about a guy you know is going to die before you open the book and meet him that much takes a special kind of writer — and that’s what Alex Bledsoe is. Naturally, that doesn’t just apply to Ray; it works for Matt, the Parrishes, C. C. and several others who actually survive the book (and one that doesn’t).

I feel like I’m in danger of becoming the Chris Farley talk show host character here, “Remember that part in the book where Matt does ____? That was cool.” I really don’t know what to say about this book — or the others in the series — that I haven’t before. It’s a great setting, with a culture and people you want to see again and again, for both understanding and entertainment. Plus the overwhelming desire to actually hear the music they keep talking about. This is Bledsoe at the top of his game, you should be sure not to miss it.

And, like the play itself — it all sounds true.

—–

4 1/2 Stars

‏Eleanor & Park (Audiobook) by Rainbow Rowell, Rebecca Lowman, Sunil Malhotra

By HCNewton

On November 22, 2016

In Audiobook, Fiction, General Fiction/Literature, P-U, Rainbow Rowel, Reread Project, YA/MG/Children's Books

Eleanor & Park

by Rainbow Rowell, Rebecca Lowman & Sunil Malhotra (Narrators)

Unabridged Audiobook, 8 hrs., 57 min.
Listening Library (Audio), 2013
Read: May 31 – June 1, 2016

Okay, so yesterday I talked about a book that was hurt by the audio narration — this is one that’s helped by it (but not much, because it really doesn’t need much). I read this back when it came out, and gave it 4 Stars — which boggles my mind, was I a harsher grader back then? I remembered liking it more than that, though. Anyway, this audiobook is the perfect example of what the medium can be.

It perfectly captured the flavor, the emotion and the detail of the original. Now, it didn’t become all about the performance, the narrators brought the words to life, but not at the expense of the text.

Lowman and Malhotra were spectacular — they were Eleanore and Park. You fall for them while the characters were falling for each other, and when they expressed emotion, you certainly felt it. Well, I don’t know about “you,” but definitely me.

I’m really not sure what else I can say. This is a perfect story about first love, how it defines who you are in a way you didn’t expect — how it reveals the best of you and improves the worst of you. Using these two social misfits to tell this story grounds it in a way that the Prom King and Queen couldn’t — I just loved it. It’s probably the best thing Rowell’s done, and it’s one of the best audiobooks I’ve ever heard.

—–

5 Stars

United States of Books – Spartina by John Casey

By HCNewton

On October 31, 2016

In Fiction, General Fiction/Literature, United States of Books

Spartina

by John Casey

Author: Laura at 125Pages

This week takes us to Rhode Island with Spartina by John Casey.

Entertainment Weekly says – Dick Pierce works in Narragansett Bay, but his true passion is is the unfinished boat in his backyard. The tale may be standard, but Casey’s lyrical descriptions of the Rhode Island sea are anything but.

“If Rhode Island were a country, it would be part of the Third World. The largest employer is the military. Tourism is the major moneymaker, although most Rhode Islanders benefit from it only in service positions. The bulk of choice real estate is in the form of second homes or resorts run by absentee corporations. “There is a seafaring tradition, and there is—still—a fishing fleet. By comparison to the high-tech factory ships of Russia, East or West Germany, Japan, or the tuna clippers of our own West Coast, the boats and methods are quaint. But it is still possible—barely possible—to wrest a living from the sea.”

Spartina is one of those books that should be a total winner. Poetic writing, vivid descriptions, a real world to sink into.

A blue heron wading in the marsh on her stilts, apparently out for a stroll—suddenly freezing. An imperceptible tilt of her head—her long neck cocking without moving. No, nothing this time. Wade, pose. Abruptly, a new picture—a fish bisected by her bisected beak. Widening ripples, but the heron, the pool, the marsh, the sky serene. The clouds slid across the light, the fish into the dark.

Unfortunately, the main character Dick Pierce was just an ass. He was at first a crusty older man and I was fine with that. He had very much of a him versus the world attitude and believed that anyone from money was to be looked down at. He ran some cons and did a few shady deals, but he did it to support his wife and children. Nothing wrong with that, he was doing his best to survive. Then the story took an turn and I lost all respect for good ol’ Dick. He began to match his name and started a torrid affair with a woman in the neighborhood. First, I hate when adultery is used as a plot point. I have no patience with it and hate reading about it. Second, he had absolutely no remorse about his actions. He did not care if he was going to hurt the woman he promised to cherish or his children. Other stuff happened that was interesting, but I could not move past my hatred of Dick to enjoy the story. In the end he sadly did not get the comeuppance he should have and Dick continued to be just that as he sailed off into the sunset.

3 Stars
See all of the United States of Books here.

Calvin by Martine Leavitt

By HCNewton

On October 25, 2016

In Fiction, General Fiction/Literature, YA/MG/Children's Books

Calvin: A Novel

by Martine Leavitt

Hardcover, 181 pg.
Farrar, Straus and Giroux (BYR), 2015

Read: August 1 – 2, 2016

I realized the doctor was leaving the room, and I was talking out loud to nobody. And that’s why they want to put people on medication.

Calvin is a high school senior on the verge of graduation and a bright future. If only he had the ability to focus. He reaches a breaking point and has a schizophrenic episode, resulting in his hospitalization. His family and doctors seem supportive and caring, and at least one classmate stops by to visit, too, his life-long friend Susie.

Me: . . .You’re you’re part of it.

Susie: Part of what?

Me: Part of what’s happening to me. Didn’t you ever think about, you know, that you’re named Susie, and you’re friends with a
guy named Calvin?

Susie: I always thought my parents didn’t put much imagination into my name–

Me: I was born on the same day that Bill Watterson published his very last comic strip?

Susie: You’ve mentioned that.

Me: My gramps gave me a stuffed tiger called Hobbes I’m hyperactive and pathologically imaginative? And then, even more amazing, a girl lives two doors down and her name is Susie! Maybe once you create an idea and millions of people are loving that idea, when you get brilliance and love all mixed up like that, it makes something that has to go somewhere. It impacts reality, like a meteorite hitting Earth. Bang! I think the universe just couldn’t let Calvin go.

Okay, that’s not necessarily the conclusion that most people would arrive at given the evidence (Suzie, for example, doesn’t buy it) — but there’s something to his logic.

Calvin decides that if Watterson’s creation is what led to his problems, Watterson can fix him. To prove his devotion, he sets out on a pilgrimage that could be fatal, and Susie tags along to try to keep him safe. Hobbes tags along to . . . well, do Hobbes-like things.

This is a story about friendship, young love, the hazards of high school for the psychologically fragile, and about how a psychological diagnosis doesn’t have to determine your life and future. Leavitt writes with a lean, crisp prose that keeps things moving — even while treading emotionally rich territory.

A frequently very funny book, but I felt guilty laughing at this poor, sick kid. It was largely predictable, but satisfying nonetheless. I liked Calvin, Susie and their relationship. A sweet and imaginative tribute to Watterson and his creation.

—–

3.5 Stars

Blackbeard’s Daughter by Diana Strenka

By HCNewton

On October 24, 2016

In Fiction, General Fiction/Literature

Blackbeard’s Daughter

by Diana Strenka

Kindle Edition, 199 pg.
2016

Read: October 6 – 7, 2016

Edward Teach had a rough childhood dominated by a harsh, abusive, taskmaster of a father. He eventually grows to manhood, marries and takes over the family estate — as soon as he can, he takes his wife and daughter to the New World and the freshly established colonies.

The focus of this story turns to his daughter, Margaret — and she has a rough crossing of the Atlantic, and doesn’t take to the New World too well. It’s a dramatic time for British settlers — battles with the natives and others disrupt the lives of the Teaches in dramatic fashion, death, injury, and loss of home and income. Margaret’s world is turned upside down several times, the last time when her father starts going to sea for months at a time, only turning up unexpectedly.

She eventually learns that he’s the pirate Blackbeard (not really a spoiler folks, look at the title) and goes to sea with him for a while. Almost none of this part of the novel works — and when it ends, it’s almost a relief.

There’s a plotline about Margaret and her efforts to help free slaves that’s sentimentally nice, but doesn’t seem to ring true and doesn’t really go anywhere.

I have no idea how close any of this novel comes to matching historical data, it has a ring of authenticity augmented by imagination, but I can’t be sure.

Everything almost worked — almost — but I can’t think of anything that actually did. There’s an earnestness to the text that will draw you in and make you root for the author, but that’s really the best I can say.

Disclaimer: I received this book from the author in exchange for this post and my honest opinion. Sorry.

—–

2 1/2 Stars

Before the Fall (Audiobook) by Noah Hawley, Robert Petkoff

By HCNewton

On October 21, 2016

In Fiction, General Fiction/Literature, Mystery/Detective Fiction/Crime Fiction/Thriller

Before the Fall

by Noah Hawley, Robert Petkoff (Narrator)

Unabridged Audiobook, 12 hrs, 59 min.
Hachette Audio, 2016
Read: August 25 – 30, 2016

A small, but luxurious, private plane goes down between Martha’s Vineyard and New York — two passengers survive, a painter (a guest of one of the other passengers) and a 4-year old boy. The boy is the son of two of the passengers — a man who runs a FOXNews doppleganger and his wife. The painter is a recovering addict named Scott Burroughs who’s on the verge of his big break. Thanks to a childhood obsession with swimming, Scott is able to swim he and the boy to safety — catapulting them both into a level of celebrity that nobody wants.

The investigation into the plane crash begins even before Scott makes it to shore — and looks into the background of everyone on the plane to find the responsible party. As the investigation — and the narration — gets into their pasts, it’s easy to believe that many of the people on board are responsible for the tragedy (either as perpetrator or target).

The other primary storyline follows the lives of Scott and the boy in the days following the crash. Their lives are forever changed — and intertwined. This was the heart of the book — by far the best part of it, while there was no suspense, no danger, just picking up the pieces of their life while under intense and unwanted media scrutiny.

The commentary this novel makes about the role of the Twenty-Four News Cycle in commenting on, shaping, and twisting whatever story it chooses to focus on needs to be heard. On the one hand, it’s nothing that many haven’t said before, but the way Hawley says it should help his message to resonate with people.

I read Hawley’s first novel, A Conspiracy of Tall Men, when it was first released and it blew me away — and I lost track of him after that until his show, The Unusuals premiered (still annoyed with ABC for canceling that too soon). This book has convinced me that I need to go back and read the books I missed — this isn’t as good as his debut, but it’s easier to believe. Hawley has a great way of getting into his character’s heads — and bringing the reader with him. These are all clearly drawn individuals with intricate and distinct backstories and voices, throw in an equally intricate plot that kept me gripped (even after I stopped really caring about “how did it happen” — I’m not sure that makes sense).

Petkoff’s narration is pretty good — he’s able to keep the story moving and deliver convincing characters (although I’m not crazy about his kid-voice, thankfully, he didn’t have to use it often). Petkoff’s a name that I’ll keep an eye out for.

A novel with two (main) stories — one that’s really good, and another that’s ultimately disappointing, while gripping up until that point. Hawley delivered here, and I look forward to reading more of his work (almost as much as I look forward to another season of his TV work). I recommend this — either in text or audio — it won’t be the best thing you read, but it’ll reward the time.

—–

3.5 Stars

United States of Books – Rabbit, Run by John Updike

By HCNewton

On October 17, 2016

In Fiction, General Fiction/Literature, United States of Books

I think Teri liked this one a little more than I did. A few years back, I read it and threw up a few paragraphs onto Goodreads, which I posted here a while ago. After reading Teri’s more thoughtful review, you might want to check out mine, which I tagged (somewhat aggressively) “Why Would Anyone Read This Willingly.”
—

Rabbit, Run

by John Updike

Author: Teri at Sportochick’s Musings

Synopsis

Rabbit, Run is the book that established John Updike as one of the major American novelists of his—or any other—generation. Its hero is Harry “Rabbit” Angstrom, a onetime high-school basketball star who on an impulse deserts his wife and son. He is twenty-six years old, a man-child caught in a struggle between instinct and thought, self and society, sexual gratification and family duty—even, in a sense, human hard-heartedness and divine Grace. Though his flight from home traces a zigzag of evasion, he holds to the faith that he is on the right path, an invisible line toward his own salvation as straight as a ruler’s edge.

Review

Throughout the book I kept hoping that Rabbit would find himself and become a man, husband, and father but he just kept getting more confused. It was apparent that this man couldn’t make up his mind about anything and that he would drift forever lost. Also what was abundantly clear was that he had no conscience. He just couldn’t figure out what was right and what was wrong nor would he take responsibly for his part in any of the events that lead to his baby’s death, his wives destructive life, his son’s feeling of loss or his mistresses pregnancy.

Reverend Eccles was the one of two redeeming characters in this book. He tried really hard to help Rabbit but in reality Rabbit starts to lead him astray no matter how hard he continually tries to help. Ruth, his mistress, well she was someone to be admired. She understood who Rabbit was, stood firm and strong about them ending their relationship with her taking care of the baby they would still have.

The book ended just as I thought. Rabbit is so confused. STILL! Bye bye Rabbit! Keep running away from life but realize you will never have one you love till you confront yourself.

I give this 1 star. I just disliked the main character, Rabbit, too much to find any value in this book.

I Was a Bitch by Emily Ruben

By HCNewton

On October 12, 2016

In Fiction, General Fiction/Literature

I Was a Bitch

by Emily Ruben

Kindle Edition, 401 pg.
Inkitt, 2016

Read: October 3 – 4, 2016

There’s a moment in teen comedies where the ugly duckling (who’s become the beautiful swan, backstabbed/betrayed/turned on/disappointed their life-long friends and become a real jerk) is forced to realize that what they’ve become and what they’ve done — from The DUFF to Can’t Buy Me Love and all points between (and probably points earlier), this is a standard and pivotal plot point. Can this be done in a tired and clichéd way? Yup, and regularly is. Can this be done in a creative and worthwhile way? Yup. But it’s hard to pull off.

And then Emily Ruben comes along and does this in a creative and worthwhile way — and makes it look like a walk in the park. Don’t get me wrong — making something look that easy takes a lot of work, I know this. But Ruben makes it look effortless. And one of the many creative things she does with this is who she has tell her protagonist that she’s become a bitch — herself.

Lacey comes out of a coma that’s lasted months and doesn’t remember the last couple of years. She starts using context clues, Facebook, utter strangers appearing in her hospital room, text messages, etc. to start piecing those two years together. What she learns about herself does not please her. She’s in shape — beyond that, she’s in great shape and dresses to flaunt it. Her “friends” are equally hot, as shallow as you’d expect and just nasty to others. Her boyfriend might as well be wearing a Kobra Kai uniform. She’s hidden some aspects of her personality — her sense of humor, kindness, clumsiness, intelligence, bookishness — and replaced them with, well, not much.

But there’s this Finn guy — who no one seems to know, but he sure seems to know her. Possibly more attractive than her boyfriend, definitely nicer than anyone she’s not related to. Just who is he, and what is he to her?

Lacey continues to investigate these questions (and more) while she recovers, goes through physical therapy, and returns to high school. And once she gets some answers — and some of her memories — about who she had become in the last two years, she has to make some decisions about who she’s going to be from now on.

We don’t get a full explanation of why Lacey took the steps she did to become who she became — but we get enough (and I think Lacey feels the same way). I like the fact that we are left with a few “i” not dotted and a handful of “t”s not crossed. Ruben had to resist a good deal of temptation to keep things vague at points — kudos to her.

I have a growing impatience for books who maintain dramatic tension through characters not having the guts to be honest with each other, to ask a question, to make a confession (not to a crime, but to something that’ll be uncomfortable) — but that’s just me. My notes are full of me complaining about Lacey ducking opportunities to have these conversations. By having her character take this road, Ruben doesn’t do anything that 97%+ of writers in all media wouldn’t do — sure, it’d be nice if she swam against the stream, but I can’t fault her too much for this.

Outside of those books where the parents/a parent/guardian/older family member turn out to be the villain, I can think of few worse parents than Lacey’s. I get that after a few months, they can’t afford to spend all day at the hospital — they have to work to pay the bills. But there are plenty of hours in the day for them to get over there after work — they regularly spend days without visiting her. And big brother comes back from traveling the world to be with her during her recovery — and he’s barely a presence. Sure, this gives time for her to deal the memory thing and the romantic problems, but it’s just done in a way that infuriates parents — there’s no way that any parent worth their salt isn’t around more. (it doesn’t get much better once she gets out of the hospital, either).

I loved Lacey’s voice, her interior monologue — who she really was. Her use of the phrase “Neville Longbottomed” to describe her physical changes is one of the best things I’ve read lately. I had a lot of fun reading this book and expect I won’t be alone.

As a forty-something father of four — I’m so not the target audience for this, possibly the furthest from it. But I gotta say, this was an enjoyable and entertaining read.

Disclaimer: I was provided a copy of this book by Inkitt in exchange for my honest opinions.

—–

3.5 Stars

United States of Books – Housekeeping by Marilynne Robinson

By HCNewton

On October 10, 2016

In Fiction, General Fiction/Literature, United States of Books

Housekeeping

by Marilynne Robinson

Hardcover, 219 pg.
Farrar, Straus and Giroux, 1980

Read: September 20 – 21, 2016

It’s time for my home state here in this little series we’re doing: Idaho, featuring the book Housekeeping by Marilynne Robinson. Set in the fictional town of Fingerbone, in the Northern part of the state, about 50-60 miles from the Canadian border (not information from the book, that’s just me trying to orient those of you looking at a map).

Lucille, and her older sister Ruth, are raised in the same house their mother grew up in. We’re told straight away that following their mother’s death they lived with their grandmother, then her two sisters, and finally their mother’s younger sister. The circumstances surrounding these transitions are revealed gradually — none of the adults in their lives were cut out for parenting (Grandmother was at one point, and probably would’ve sufficed if she hadn’t died).

This is not a plot-driven book, and it’s hard to talk about what plot there is without telling you everything — so I’ll be vague. Ruth tells us about her grandfather’s death; them coming to live in his old house; life with grandmother, great-aunts, and aunt; and then things really start happening as she and Lucille enter adolescence and I’m not going to ruin anything by finishing this sentence properly. On page 27, I wrote “this text is so beautiful, I don’t care what happens, I’m going to love this book.” Thankfully, I was right — because once things happened, I really didn’t like it — but I loved reading the book. There are other characters in the book, but they’re of so little importance, I’m not going to say anything beyond acknowledging their existence. The focus is on the girls, their family and the really old house i which they all reside.

Thematically, this book is about loneliness, family ties, waiting for someone/something. I’m not sure there’s much difference in Ruth’s mind between loneliness and waiting (nor am I that sure that there’s much difference in my mind between them as I write this). For young girls to have this much upheaval in their parental figure(s), loneliness and loss are going to loom large in their psycho-social development — and they’re not going to respond the same way to things. You add some pretty perceptive thoughts about loneliness to Robinson’s prose and you’ve got yourself a winner of a book.

So what do we learn about Idaho here? Nothing. Fingerbone could be any small city/large town in the U.S. There is nothing distinctive Idaho about this book. Well, almost nothing. There’s a lot of mentioning of local place names (mostly cities, incidentally, that most non-Idahoans are going to mispronounce) — enough so that we all know that Fingerbone is just Sandpoint’s nom de plume, but that’s as “Idaho” as we get here. Take out the local names and this could be in any state that has lakes, forests and railroads — which pretty much covers all 50, right? I don’t know why Robinson didn’t just use the actual town’s name — but, whatever. The fact that Entertainment Weekly thinks this novel “best defines” Idaho probably says more about the dearth of books set here than anything else.

Lyrical, haunting, insightful, beautiful — this is prose that’ll stick with you. I didn’t like the ending, but it worked and was earned, so I can get over it. Don’t worry about the story, focus on the telling of it and you’ll likely agree, this is stunning stuff.

—–

4 1/2 Stars