Author Archives: Vicki Ziegler

In the Land of Long Fingernails, by Charles Wilkins

In the Land of Long Fingernails, by Charles Wilkins

Charles Wilkins’ memoir In the Land of Long Fingernails is an intriguing and (dare I say) lively glimpse into the world of cemeteries and what goes on behind the scenes in enacting the final chapter of people’s lives. Wilkins looks at not just the processes involved and where those processes can go awry, comically or tragically, but he also casts an eye, that of his adult self filtering his youthful perceptions, on the individuals who carry out those processes, which most people do not want to know about, much less be called upon to take them on themselves.

In a fashion that is kind of Roy MacGregor meets Six Feet Under, the memoir recounts Wilkins’ one summer working in a graveyard. That summer happened to be 1969, a year pivotal in general and historical consciousness, and also so for the young Wilkins, who was a recalcitrant university student at the time. As such, his insights into the workings of the graveyard are intermingled with his own personal turmoil, as he struggles with decisions about his future and his relationships with friends and family. His is not the stylish angst of Nate Fisher, but something much more down to earth (guess that’s a pun) and not without a sense of humour.

Wilkins’ observations are never macabre or overly unsettling, and ultimately the book is quite respectful and compassionate of both the living and the dead.

Canada Reads 2012

In the Land of Long Fingernails is one of the Canadian non-fiction titles I’ve recommended for Canada Reads 2012: True Stories. If you’d like to support this book as a possible Canada Reads finalist, you can vote for it here, as well as perusing some other great recommendations.

The Sentinel, by A.F. Moritz

The Sentinel, by A.F. Moritz

This attentively crafted collection of poetry straddles a fine line between self-awareness and self-absorption, but more than once tips into navel gazing that excludes or repels rather than welcomes the reader. This recent winner of the Canadian portion of the 2009 Griffin Poetry Prize is forgiven its ponderous lapses, however, when it redeems itself with the wry humour and crisp observations of poems such as “Busman’s Honeymoon”. Who can’t help but feel included in the universal experience of waiting for, being frustratingly passed by and joining in the communal experience of riding a bus?

“it streaks through storm, now flashing Not In Service
from its radiant forehead, polluted and obscured
by splattered mud, till it can reach its station

and help to ease the overflow of us
waiting in anger. Then we all barge in
and improbably improve the poetry of the bus.”

What the Body Remembers, by Shauna Singh Baldwin

What the Body Remembers, by Shauna Singh Baldwin

This multi-layered story set against the 1947 partition of India and Pakistan absorbs, edifies and involves the reader on so many different levels. It’s a fascinating historical perspective on how societies and communities were torn asunder when India was seemingly randomly split across geographical and religious lines. It’s an engrossing cultural study of different religions and practices. It’s also an intimate portrait of a marriage involving three people – a successful Sikh landowner, his strong-willed and opinionated first wife and his young, idealistic and somewhat bewildered second wife. Tying these myriad strands together is the informing presence and resonance of the title, as “What the Body Remembers” spans everything from the connections between mothers and children and husbands and wives, to what a body such as a country or community retains or does not when it is broken apart … and even that idea takes on a striking literal form during the book’s explosive and unforgettable ending.

Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close, by Jonathan Safran Foer

Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close, by Jonathan Safran Foer

This unforgettable book stunningly juxtaposes the utterly improbable with the emotionally profound. The connections and coincidences as young Oskar seeks to solve a mystery associated with the death of his father, who was in one of the World Trade Center buildings on September 11th, all just seem too amazing. Then again, planes flying into mighty buildings and those mighty buildings collapsing was utterly improbable and unimaginable too, wasn’t it? Then again, too, September 11th is perhaps not quite as singular an event as the 9/11 “industry” would have us believe, as “Extremely Loud & Incredibly Close” reminds us of historical precedents such as the devastating bombing of Dresden.

Although some of Jonathan Safran Foer’s stylistic effects throughout this book are a bit stagy and distracting, at core is a story of shocked and bereaved human beings trying to find meaning, comfort and solace in the aftermath of shattering events. From Oskar to his grandparents to his mother to the various people Oskar encounters in his quest, many are captivating and all are believable in their individual searches for peace and even a measure of happiness.

This Shape We’re In, by Jonathan Lethem

This Shape We're In, by Jonathan Lethem

Lethem’s Pynchonesque fever dream bombards the reader with rapid fire wordplay, much of involving the inventive juggling of cliches. But what does it all mean? The Falstaffian protagonist is travelling through a large body a la The Fantastic Voyage. At one point, he glimpses out through the body’s eye and sees the Statue of Liberty. At another point, it’s possible the body is actually a Trojan horse. So, ummm … “This Shape We’re In” is short and sufficiently fast paced that it can be visited numerous times. Will repeated visits be worth it in terms of further understanding what this allegory is all about?

Middlemarch, by George Eliot

This Shape We're In, by Jonathan Lethem

“Middlemarch” is deservedly considered a classic, and an exemplar of the art of the novel. Eliot takes on an immense amount thematically, does much of it justice and somehow manages to balance broad issues with in-depth, affecting and authentic portrayals of a captivating array of characters. While the central and some peripheral characters serve to further Eliot’s interest in social, political, gender, scientific and religious issues, all figures throughout the novel are etched as believable human beings, not just as one-dimensional symbols serving some more general purpose. There are no black-and-white heroes/heroines or villains, but all are presented as well-rounded individuals with strengths, weaknesses and foibles.

The chapter describing how incendiary gossip about two prominent figures spreads through the community and evolves into fact is a tour de force of plot momentum – acerbic, brilliant and exhilarating to read. In other words, Eliot’s mastery of theme and character do not at all mean that she gives plot short shrift.

While the ending sews up the fates of the main characters, there are surprises and debatable resolutions right to the very end. This book satisfies on so many levels, and sends the reader off with much about which to ponder.

“People glorify all sorts of bravery except the bravery they might show on behalf of their nearest neighbours.”

A Bend in the River, by V.S. Naipaul

A Bend in the River, by V.S. Naipaul

VS Naipaul’s classic and much-lauded novel about social upheaval in an unnamed African nation in the 1970s is simultaneously engrossing and chilling. Told from the point of view of an ethnic Indian man who was raised and lives in Africa, the story deals with many layers of dispossession and alienation amongst its individual characters and ethnic and social groups as they struggle amidst the tides of and enticements of modernity and the countering tides of history and tradition. Characters deal with these conflicting tides in varying states of paralysis, weariness and wariness. Even those who embark hopefully on personal or business relationships to try to further themselves and thrive in shifting social milieus all seem to be stymied and even crushed in rapid succession. All optimism seems to wane or is more violently extinguished as everyone either flees, goes into hiding or at very least “accepts new encumbrances”. Naipaul’s book is pointed and instructive, but not uplifting.

Brooklyn, by Colm Toibin

Brooklyn, by Colm Toibin

“Brooklyn” is essentially a sweet tale simply told, but with much emotional depth. Just because it is a fairly simple story and the protagonist is somewhat laconic doesn’t mean that there isn’t much going on or that it was an easy knock-off for Toibin. Much authorial craft has made it so simple yet so profound, melding Eilis’ personal journey from Ireland to the U.S. and as a young woman to social changes that were just starting to gain momentum in the 1950s. Snippets of tart dialogue spice up the mix along the way.