Penguin Canada has launched Razorbill.ca which is actually a Ning site. I was curious about Ning in its early days and belonged to a couple of networks there so nothing really came of it. I’m interested to see what Penguin Canada does here.
Razorbill is a hub for conversations about YA fiction, pre-launch news and author chats with folks like Joseph Boyden (love him), Hiromi Goto, Charles de Lint and Carrie Mac.
I joined because of some thematic convergence that the marketers will like to know about. 1) I got my Amazon news blast recommending hot titles in January. The first title was John Green’s The Fault in Our Stars. I visited the book page because I liked the cover. Read the blurb to understand that it is YA fiction and has something to do with a girl who has cancer. Didn’t strike me as anything I needed to act urgently on so I carried on with my day. 2) I got an email from Robyn at Citizen Optimum introducing me to Razorbill, and including a link to grab a blogger badge, like you see below. John Green’s The Fault in our Stars is mentioned in the email. Hm. 3) I check out Razorbill and because I’m procrastinating about the day job, I sign up for an account. Then I complete the tedious form to eventually find the link to the badges. And here we are.
So anyone checked out Razorbill.ca? What do you think? Worth it?
I’m tired of all the little “community” sites. It’s like having a ton of party invites from different friends and eventually just staying home. Authors—do these sites help you? Marketers—do the analytics suggests these influence purchases directly or indirectly?
This is another book that I waited on too long to read. Joseph Boyden deserves all the praise this book received.
Three Day Road is about two Cree boys who join the Canadian efforts in World War I. Their bush skills and hunting are easily transposed to the trenches and sniper shooting and both become renowned for their kills.
The novel shifts between present day — Xavier’s Aunt’s visions and efforts to save her nephew from the morphine that is silently killing him while also keeping him alive — and Xavier’s flashbacks of his war days with his boyhood friend Elijah.
Elijah is the talker, the charmer and ultimately the one who is a little too good at killing.
What struck me most was the idea that there are men who are very good at war and when (if) they return to civilian life are unsettling and unsettled. Those who are good at war have difficulty that maybe those who are just lucky don’t have.
One of the characters “Fats” is perhaps lucky whereas Xavier is good. My inference is that Fats’ dumbluck will haunt him differently than the visions of killing that Xavier must contend with in his post-war days.
But the story isn’t about Fats, it’s about Xavier. And that story is very, very good.
Although the paperback was published in 2005, Sweetness in the Belly never made it to my reading list until last week. Camilla Gibb has written a brilliant book. I know you know. It was on all sorts of lists and everyone raved about it, which is probably why it took me so long to get around to it. But really, one word review: awesome.
Sweetness in the Belly is set in Harar, Ethiopia and London, England. The story is told through flashbacks to Ethiopia in the 70s and England in the 80s and 90s. Lilly is our protagonist and she is a white Muslim growing up in the class hierarchy system of an Ethiopian town where devout women pray, raise children and fight for survival against contaminated water, the jinn and other evil spirits, and husbands or lovers who leave them with children to raise and limited means to do so.
Lilly’s British, hippy parents raise her (sort of) as they travelled around African. But their unhappy end left Lilly in the care of a great Muslim teacher. On her journey to a shrine in Harar, many things happen that part her from her male travel companion and leave her in the care of Nouria, who’s less than thrilled to have another mouth to feed.
Lilly, the orphaned foreigner who knows the Qu’ran, learns the culture of Hararis and so does the reader along with her. Eventually caught up in the war, poverty and famine, Lilly escapes to live in London. It’s an exile, not a homecoming as she has left loved ones and must watch horrible events unfold from afar. But it’s actually through her exile that readers learn more of Ethiopia and of what it may be like for refugees.
On Islam:
This is what happens in the West. Muslims from Pakistan pray alongside Muslims from Nigeria and Ethiopia and Malaysia and Iran, and because the only thing they share in common is the holy book, that becomes the sole basis of the new community: not culture, not tradition, not place. The book is the only thing that offers consensus, so traditions are discarded as if they are filthy third-world clothes. ‘We were ignorant before,’ people say, as if it is only in the West that they have learned the true way of Islam.
In traveling through Indonesia, Turkey, Jordan and Egypt, I’ve experienced firsthand the moderation and cultural interpretations in a way that mean these sections of the text to really resonate with me. In Indonesia, I had a friend who when explaining praying said, “it is good to pray, it is better to pray with others, it is best to pray in the mosque.”
Everything was shades of grey that made perfect sense to me.
Later in the text, Lilly says “My religion is full of colour and possibility and choice; it’s a moderate interpretation ... one that allows you to use whatever means allow you to feel closer to God, be it saints, prayer beads, or qat, one that allows you to have the occasional drink, work alongside men, go without a veil when you choose, sit alone with an unrelated man in a room, even hold his hand ...”
It’s an interpretation where jihad is one’s personal struggle to be a good Muslim, not a fight against those who are not Muslim.
Sweetness in the Belly is one of those books that although set in a particular time and place, is really quite timeless.
Published in 2006 as part of the Myths series, Atwood provides a contemporary take on one of the most enduring stories of all time, Homer’s The Odyssey. In Homer’s tale, Penelope is the ever constant, faithful wife who dutifully tends to her husband’s empire without compromise to his finances or her fidelity despite hearing tale after tale from passing travellers recounting Odysseus’ great triumphs and tribulations in the war against Troy and his own yearnings for love in the arms of beautiful goddesses. I mean, really, did she just stand by for 20 years spinning a bit of yarn?
In Atwood’s version, Penelope is more than just the long-suffering wife of the hero. She is a very clever woman who makes 1 fatal mistake that costs her the lives of 12 obedient maids.
I love Atwood’s academic and philosophical answers to the elements of The Odyssey that went unquestioned in my literature classes. The Penelopiad begins with two questions: what led to the hanging of the maids, and what was Penelope really up to? I did wonder.
I also love the contemporary twist of the maids presenting evidence through song and dance, as if they were on Glee, the video trial, and Penelope checking out the contemporary world via spiritual mediums and commenting on the similarities or differences to her time.
Penelope may have been as clever as Helen was beautiful, but Margaret Atwood stands in a class of her own at the top of the clever charts.
Ami McKay’s second novel is sure to be a bestseller just like the first.
I am Moth, a girl from the lowest part of Chrystie Street, born to a slum-house mystic and the man who broke her heart.
So begins The Virgin Cure, a story about a street girl named Moth who is lured by the street savvy Mae into Miss Everett’s brothel for girls. Set in the 1800s in New York, girls as young as 12 are preyed upon by those wishing to make a buck or to pay a large sum to be a girl’s first. Sadly there are many gentlemen willing to sleep with young girls and, more depressing, there are many who believe virgins will cure syphillus.
Moth is 12, and like many girls from poor families, is sold. Money changes hands and she goes first to Mrs. Wentworth as a ladies maid. But Mrs. Wentworth likes to beat pretty girls so Moth runs away only to find that her mother is no longer living in their apartment. With no where to go, she’s left to her own devices until she is “saved” by Miss Everett, who trains young girls in the art of seduction and then sells their first trick for a lovely sum to well-to-do gentlemen including the Chief of Dectectives, bankers, and politicians. Thankfully Mr. Dink (no pun apparently intended) and Dr. Sadie (a lady physician dedicated to serving the needs of women and children) provide Moth a means to live beyond the street or the whorehouse. The question is whether she’ll take these offers.
The Virgin Cure is a novel about friendship and betrayal, and it’s a ficitionalized account of McKay’s great, great- grandmother who was a lady physician in NYC during this time.
This Canadian author is certainly making the rounds on bestseller lists across North America:
#4 - New York Times bestseller list
#5 - Publishers Weekly
#5 - Chicago Tribune
#6 - Washington Post
#9 - National Independent Bookstores
#7 - Toronto Globe and Mail
#2 - Canadian Bookseller’s Association
#3 - Vancouver sun
#10- Maclean’s
#5 - Entertainment Weekly
Go Louise Penny!
Such success deserves some more attention and I am lucky enough to share an audio clip of A Trick of Light. The audiobook is available from Macmillan Audio and they’ve kindly given me permission to share the clip with you. Have a listen to this audio clip of A Trick of Light.
The English Patient was one of my favourite novels by Ondaatje. It helped that I studied it in English Lit because the movie adaption is really only one part of the many stories interwoven in that tale. It’s a masterpiece. But I suspect that it’s one of those books that people bought but never read. In the case of The Cat’s Table, we have a novel that is a much more accessible to read and definitely worth picking up.
In the early 1950s, 11-year-old Mynah (or Michael) boards a ship in Colombo bound for England. The Cat’s Table is his adventure on board, the characters who he meets, and later his adult understanding of that childhood time. Ondaatje has crafted a wonderful tale.
As I got into the car, it was explained to me that after I’d crossed the Indian Ocean and the Arabian Sea and the Red Sea, and gone through the Suez Canal into the Mediterranean, I would arrive one morning on a small pier in England and my mother would meet me there. It was to the magic or the scale of the journey that was of concern to me, but that detail of how my mother could know when exactly I would arrive in that other country.
And if she would be there.
What he doesn’t know is that he’ll befriend the heart-troubled Ramadhin or the exuberant Cassius. Nor does he know upon boarding about the shackled prisoner, the deaf girl or the circus.
It was not even eight o’clock when we crossed the border from First Class back to Tourist Class. We pretended to stagger with the roll of the ship. I had by now come to love the slow waltz of our vessel from side to side. And the fact that I was on my own, save for the distant Flavia Prins and Emily, was itself an adventure. I had no family responsibilities. I could go anywhere, do anything. And Ramadhin, Cassius, and I had already established one rule. Each day we had to do at least one thing that was forbidden. The day had barely begun, and we still had hours ahead of us to perform this task.
Whether it’s sneaking down to the boiler rooms, slipping into the life rafts, nabbing treats, or brazenly standing out in a storm, these three boys wreck havoc in the way only boys can. But this story is not just about discovering what they can get into, it’s about discovering who they are and what they mean to each other.
In many ways, it’s a story we all know. It’s one of going to camp for the summer and making friends, meeting people on a trip with whom you promise to stay in touch, or missing classmates who’ve come and gone. It’s about friendships made in a confined space or time. It’s about growing up and moving from childhood to adulthood. That’s what I mean by accessible. We share Mynah’s memories, even if they are not of the exact same space and time.
Watch for Michael Ondaatje at the Writers Festivals happening this fall. He’s worth seeing and the book is worth reading.
The Cat’s Table by Michael Ondaatje Published by M&S
Available in hardcover, unabridged audio CD, unabridged audiobook download and eBook.
Canadian author
I recommend all sorts of books to my mom. Most she likes and some that I think she’ll really like, she ends up hating. I was a bit worried recommending A Trick of Light by Louise Penny because I really enjoyed it and I wasn’t sure if it would make the cut for my mom.
Well, I can report that she has since purchased all of Louise Penny’s books and is a huge fan of Inspector Gamache.
Author Louise Penny lives outside of a small village south of Montreal, but she hasn’t always been a Quebecer. Penny was born in Toronto and became a journalist and radio host for CBC. She moved to Thunder Bay and Winnipeg, eventually settling in Quebec.
Within weeks I’d called Quebecers ‘good pumpkins’, ordered flaming mice in a restaurant, for dessert naturally, and asked a taxi driver to ‘take me to the war, please.’ He turned around and asked ‘Which war exactly, Madame?’ Fortunately elegant and venerable Quebec City has a very tolerant and gentle nature and simply smiled at me. (...more)
Full of courtesy and dignity is our main character, the Inspector. No wonder my mom has a bit of a heart throb for him. Even investigating the murder of Lillian Dyson, he is charming yet firm, worldly yet not pretentious.
Now don’t go worrying about dear Lillian, because she wasn’t much of a dear. Lillian, more times than not, played the stream roller, taking down the careers of many artists and presumed friends in the art world. She was a harsh and caustic critic, in particular of Clara Morrow, in whose garden she found herself murdered.
Now why was she in Clara’s garden the night of Clara’s first solo show at the famed Musée in Montreal? Lillian certainly wasn’t invited to the after-party in the garden. And what was she planning to do in that shocking, red cocktail dress?
A modern-day Agatha Christie, Louise Penny can hold her readers attention. Even the secondary characters have fully realized personas and backstories, which certainly makes it harder to guess the conclusion of this who-dunnit.
If you have never heard of Louise Penny, A Trick of Light is worth the read.
The Rebel Sell: Why The Culture Can’t Be Jammed takes aim at Michael Moore, Adbusters magazine, Naomi Klein, the women’s movement, leftists/rightists/centerists, hippies and basically any group that could be considered radical.
The book is an intellectual fistfight and I’m not sure who comes out the winner. Some readers will certainly feel beaten up.
The book is worth reading, but with special caution paid to rhetorical glissades and spin.
In short, Rebel Sell is a long missive advocating peace, order and good government.
Here are my top take-aways:
The anti-capitalists are still capitalists, they just don’t know it.
Corporate bullying (lobbying and tax exemptions) could be better dealt with by removing certain write-offs or decreasing the exemption percentages.
Two wrongs don’t make a right. As in Adbusters’ “Buy Nothing Day” and the sales of Adbusters’ running shoes do not make us a better society.
A capitalist society is not about conformity, and advertising is about knowing what’s available to buy.
Hipsters and elitests are simply struggling for status, which is no different than teens wanting the new, cool thing.
Feminists lost women power in some aspects of life.
Free love wasn’t all it was cracked up to be.
And peace, love and happiness have been, and always will be, distritributed unevenly.
Selling out is just realizing that you’re part of capitalism, and it’s not all bad.
My problem with the authors’ worldview is that it is presented from a single perspective that manufactures support for their argument.
Again, it is worth reading, but make sure your thinking cap is tightly secured.
The Rebel Sell: Why The Culture Can’t Be Jammed
By Joseph Heath, Andrew Potter (Canadian authors)
Published by HarperCollins
Available in hardcover, paper, ebook
The Woefield Poultry Collective was highly recommended to me by a bookseller at the now defunct Ardea Books. The thing I miss most about having a local bookstore is the staff recommendations. There is something less novel about email newsletters and websites than the in-store chit-chat and recommendations.
The woman, whose name I now forget, was a constant source of good reading material. She recommended YA novels that were brilliant, nonfiction that was stimulating and fiction that I could not pass up. I miss her.
Her last recommendation was The Woefield Poultry Collective. She said, “this novel is terrificly funny. I couldn’t put it down. It is about a woman from New York who inherits a farm and tries to make a go of it.”
The farm name is Woefield, and it is full of woe-betide characters and lousy soil. The only really farming seems to be rock farming. But the new proprietor, named Prudence, is not so prudent.
She, upon a brief introduction, invites the pale-face, homebody from next door to move in. Seth runs a couple of internet sites and doesn’t really leave the house. He does a lot of drinking and fretting about “the thing with the drama teacher.” In fact, he’s on Prudence’s doorstep because his mom just kicked him out.
Where others see a loser, Prudence sees an opportunity.
The novel is told in first person and alternatives between Prudence, the new farm owner, Seth the geek and lay-about, Earl the farm hand, and little Sara, who like Seth is a bit lost in the world.
Unlike Seth, Sara is a go getter. She’s landed at the farm because her family has moved into a subdivision and she can no longer keep her poultry in the yard. Prudence has offered to house the birds.
The book is laugh-out loud funny. Funny in ways that had me reading chapters aloud to James, especially the chapters from Sara or Earl’s perspective. The straight-man nature of these two in comparison to flaky Prudence and Chubnuts (Earl’s pet name for Seth) is hilarious.
SARA
When my parents told me that I had to move my birds, I didn’t say anything. In Jr. Poultry Fancier’s Club they tell us that leaders are Even Tempered, which means they don’t get mad even when everyone would understand if they were. The other thing leaders do is Take Action. I’m beginning to think I have some leadership qualities because even though I might feel mad, I try not to show it ...
When my parents told me I had to move my birds because some neighbors complained, I just got up and went to my room. I didn’t tell them this was what we got for moving to Shady Woods Estates, where the house are all packed together and there are rules about everything. I didn’t tell them that my chickens are the nicest part of Shady Woods, which they are. I didn’t mention that the word Shady is extremely ironic, which I learned about in English last semester, since there is no shade anywhere on our streets. You have to have trees to have shade and there are no trees left here. It’s also kind of ironic that I’m only eleven and a half and even I know this.”
The building of Sara’s chicken coop is as fraught with tension as Sara’s family life, but is also good for a laugh.
EARL
I’d be the first one to tell you I don’t know a whole hell of a lot about kids. Never had any. Barely even knew any. When you grow up in a musical family, ‘specially a musical country family, there’s a lot of working and playing music. Not too much being a kid. So for all I know, maybe all kids is bossy as hell. But I don’t think any of them could come anywhere near that little Sara Sprout. Good goddamn name for her ...
She was not afraid to dictate an order or two. I learned that after she looked at the chicken house ...
She told me it looked wrong, and I was about to tell her to go to hell when Prudence comes rushing over and sticks her nose in, trying to smooth things out.
Prudence told the kid I been working on it all day and asked what the problem was. So the kid started to tell her ... she pointed to the tar paper poking out here and there and said there were no vents and how chickens need excellent ventilation.
God help me, she had a point there. But I didn’t let on that I agreed. Truth is, I was getting a helluva kick out of her ...
Prudence told the kid I’d be happy to fix it and the kid said how at her junior poultry club they are taught that standards are important.
Standards. Can you beat that?
She told us that without standards you have nothing.
She had a point there. That kid’s not much for smiling, but she sure as hell makes up for it on the giving directions side.
Sweet. Delightful. Witty. I don’t think these adjectives do justice to Susan Juby’s novel. Sure it’s these things, but it’s also a good bit of farm humour. Anyone who has some farm experience knows these characters, and knows the style of farm-funny I’m talking about.
Bob Collins’ Outstanding in Their Field is a collection of crazy funny farm stories. Self-published and worth the read. Prudence wouldn’t own a copy of this book, but her life could be a farm-yarn in this collection.
Prudence’s big plan is to rake in the dough selling her wares at the farmers market. To that end, I recommend the Foodtree website and app.
Foodtree.com is a way to chart the provenance of your fruits and veg. Snap photos of your purchases at the farmers market, upload to Foodtree and tag with the market, farmer and product. It’s a delicious way to share what’s on your plate. (Available in Vancouver, Toronto, Calgary, Edmonton and Boulder CO.) I’m sure Prudence would be all over this app, although I doubt anyone would be clamoring to snap pics of her spindly radishes—unless it was to make fun.
Check it out.
The Woefield Poultry Collective by Susan Juby (Canadian author)
Available in hardcover, paperback and ebook from Harper Collins
Vaclav & Lena is the love story of two Russian immigrant children who meet at a young age and are separated by events that involve Child & Family Services. Lena is taken away but never forgets Vaclav. Vaclav never forgets Lena. And on her 17th birthday Lena calls Vaclav and they reconnect.
The Russian accented English prose sets the stage for this Brooklyn family who is struggling with the hardships of leaving family in Russia and establishing themselves in America. Vaclav is a bit odd. He’s obsessed with Harry Houdini, becoming a famous magician, and making lists. He finds a perfect companion in Lena, who is another solitary figure in his ESL class.
Lena’s Aunt and Vaclav’s Mom Rasia agree on a playdate for their small children. Rasia will take them to Coney Island for the day. When Vaclav and Lena go off to play on the rides, they discover that the clowns say Lena is too small for every ride they try. They wander mistakenly into the Coney Island Sideshow to watch Fredini and Heather Holliday in her gold bikini, which is the catalyst of their secret, scheming relationship.
THINGS THAT ARE:
1. One day being a famous magician
2. Lena being lovely assistant
3. Perseverance toward those goals in spite of any and every obstacle
Haley Tanner has written a lovely, lovely first novel. There is something about the perseverance of first novels that leads to perfection. The story isn’t just charming, it’s a balance of light and dark. The maternal watchful eye of Rasia is comforting and terrifying. The relationship between Vaclav and Lena is poignant and bewitching. I really enjoyed this novel. Big recommendation.
Vaclav & Lena
by Haley Tanner
published by Knoff Canada
There is no dispute that John Valliant is an excellent writer, and The Tiger is just another example. This nonfiction story is about a man-eating tiger on the prowl in Russia’s Far East. The main plot is about Yuri Trush, lead tracker, and his work to investigate the killing of Vladimir Markov by a tiger. It is a grizzly affair, and Markov is not the tiger’s last victim.
The background story is of Russia in the 1990s and 1980s, as well as some historical vignettes, that help readers understand Russia, the Far East, the culture of Russians in the Far East, and the poverty of this remote village and what has led many of its residents, including Markov, to become poachers and involved in the illegal trade of tigers with their Chinese neighbours across the border.
The tiger-Markov story is by far the more interesting thread in the book, but the cultural and historical information help the reader gain perspective and a deeper understanding of the characters involved and their motivations. The story begins in December 1997, with Markov making an arduous trip through the heavy snow back to his cabin. Unbeknownst to him, and not detailed in the story until much later, a tiger is waiting for him, not just waiting, but has plotted his demise with a vengeance.
As readers learn through the tale, tigers are incredibly adaptive to their environment and highly intelligent. They have a memory, which makes them master hunters, and are able to operate in stealth mode, making themselves invisible until they pounce. The male amur tigers of this region (aka Siberian tigers) can grow to ten feet long, weighing more than five hundred pounds. They are the world’s largest cats and there’s only about 400 of them left in the wild.
Valliant has a couple lines that are imprinted on my mind. The amur tiger can leap across a residential street in a single bound. And tigers are some of the few animals whose roar is like the thundering of god. He paints an unforgettable portrait of the amur tigers, and his depiction of the native tribes who’ve worshipped tigers for centuries reinforces the tiger’s reputation as the “czar of the forest.”
The Tiger: A True Story of Vengeance and Survival is about a showdown between Markov and the tiger; the tiger and Yuri Trush who must destroy him, Trush and the poachers he is meant to stop in order to conserve the tiger population in this area, the poachers and the Russian government that has left them destitute, and tiger conservationists against the Chinese, whose appetite for the medicinal and spiritual uses of tiger parts is insatiable.
If God was a petulant 18-year-old then his name would be Bob and he would have won rule over Earth in a botched job application process. Bob would have been the only applicant, put forward by his mother who sat on the committee. Well, he wouldn’t have been the only applicant. Mr B would have also applied but the committee would find him very sensible and boring. In this version of Earth’s beginning, a decision by committee—which always works, right?—would have seen Bob and Mr B become the co-rulers of Earth.
In six days, Bob created the heavens and the earth, the beasts in the field and the creatures of the sea (well Mr. B did the whales), and 25 million other species, including lots of pretty girls for Bob to chase.
And Bob said, “Let there be light,” and there was light.
Only it wasn’t very good light. Bob created fireworks, sparklers and neon tubes that circled the globe like weird tangled rainbows. He dabbled with bugs that blinked and abstract creatures whose heads lit up and cast long overlapping shadows. There were mile-high candles and mountains of fairy lights. For an hours or so, Earth was lit by enormous crystal chandeliers.
Bob thought his creations were very cool.
They were very cool but they didn’t work.
So Bob tried for an ambient glow (which proved toxic) ... And finally, when he curled up in the corner of the nothingness, tired as a child by the harebrainedness of his efforts, Mr B took the opportunity to sort things out.
Congratulations Bob. Six days. No wonder the world is a mess.
Bob is careless, self-obsessed, and rather bored. He spends a lot of time sleeping and sulking, which leaves Mr B to sort out famine, war and floods. On top of that, many of the disasters are directly related to Bob having a bit of a mood as he lusts after mortals. In this century, the apple of his eye is Lucy, a nice zookeeper who has a Renaissance look and is a charming virgin, much to her own chagrin.
Bob could appear to her as a swan, or bull, but he’s thinking this time he’ll just show up and do what mortals do, take her for dinner.
For Earth’s sake, it better work out. And if it doesn’t, I recommend building that ark.
There Is No Dog is a hilarious read. I enjoyed it immensely.
Following on the heels of Pride and Prejudice and Zombies, Sense and Sensibility and Sea Monsters, and other Quirk Classics, comes The Meowmorphosis.
In Franz Kafka’s original version, Gregor Samsa, a traveling salesman, wakes up in his bed to find himself transformed into a large insect. In Coleridge Cook’s version, Samsa is a giant cat.
The Quirk Classics typically follow the plot summary to fairly closely, but introduce the absurd twist introduced in the title.
Gregor wakes up as a giant cat. He looks around his room, which appears normal, and decides to go back to sleep to forget about what has happened. He attempts to roll over, only to discover that he cannot due to his new body. He gets distracted and plays kitten-like with some dust particles and reflects on the dreary life he’s led as a traveling salesman. He turns to the clock and sees that he has overslept and missed his train to work.
Gregor’s mother knocks on the door, and suspects that he may be ill, since he never misses the train. The family is dependent on Gergor’s income so they are keen for him to open the door, which is locked as usual. The situation is more intense when Gregor’s manager comes to the family’s home to inquire of Gregor’s whereabouts and to let him know that the office is not satisfied with his work of late.
Gregor, with his large yet kitten-like paws, does manage to unlock the door. Horrified by Gregor’s appearance, the office manager runs from the apartment and Gregor’s father aggressively shoos Gregor back into his room.
Gregor wakes and sees that someone has put milk and bread in his room. It’s his sister who has taken to caring for him. She also changes his litter.
As Gregor grows, he begins scratching the furniture and climbing on things, which leads his sister to remove the furniture. As these transformations have been taking place, Gregor’s aged father has gotten a job and the family has taken in boarders. One evening as the boarders are listening to the sister play violin, Gregor creeps out of his bedroom (the door has been left ajar) and unwittingly startles the boarders. He subsequently runs away from the family home. In Kafka’s original, Gregor dies. In Cook’s version, he suffers a judgement day of sorts.
Lots of good writing exists in Canada, but there are a couple of authors who stand out for me and Miriam Toews is one of them. Maybe I recognize the Prairie sense of humour, or maybe she’s just really good.
Irma Voth is the quirky protagonist of this novel. She’s 19, married, Mennonite and living in Mexico. The problem is that she married a narco Mexican named Jorge who wants her to leave Campo 6.5, and whether he’s a narco or not, her father disapproves of Mexicans, anyone who leaves the campo, and everything his daughters do or want to do.
If my dad’s assessment was accurate this place was teeming with narcos, and not just the garden-variety narcos but narcosatanics in search of sensations (like Jorge, allegedly), bored with drinking blood from skulls and poised to bolt for bigger thrills while the rest of us were in it for the long haul, working hard and honestly for very little money, the way God meant for us to be. But I didn’t believe it. I think my uncle got a job selling cars in Canada and Wilf wanted to study the violin and my aunt thought it would be cool to get a prm. But who knows. Maybe they’re a family of drug lords now, throwing bodies out of helicopters and bowling with the heads of double-crossers. That would be my father’s theory.
The reclusively of Irma’s Mennonite community makes for some misunderstandings and confusion when a film crew moves in to make a documentary of the community. Irma, already ostracized from her family, is swept up in the madness of the film and hired as a translator for the lead German actress. Her innocence and curiosity is a virtue and a pesky annoyance to those more worldly. What I like about Toews’ writing is that Irma’s ignorance and questioning is more sound than the seemingly insightful musings of the film director, the lead actress, the film crew and Jorge. Irma gets it, even when she doesn’t.
Irma Voth was a fun read. I recommend it for those seeking some light summer reading. Also available as ebook.
Plain Words, Uncommon Sense A blog on books, writing, tap dancing, technology, and the other amusements of Monique Sherrett (or Monique Trottier in unmarried form).
Monique Sherrett lives in Vancouver, BC, Canada and is a litblogger, among other things. Find out more ...
"So misguided." A comment often uttered in my eclectic salon.
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