Category Archives: Reviews

A Girl is a Half-Formed Thing, by Eimear McBride

A Girl is a Half-Formed Thing, by Eimear McBride

In A Girl is a Half-Formed Thing, Eimear McBride takes you inside a young woman’s mind teeming so violently, body pained so volcanically, soul torn so profoundly that you’re left shaking by the last page … if you last to that point. You might not. As McBride inhabits this character at the cellular level, the effect is scorchingly intimate, uncomfortable, unbearable and possibly unreadable for some at times. The rewards and insights are great, though, for the reader that can persevere with this thorny, brilliant debut novel.

This young woman gives vivid voice to her troubled upbringing, her sexual abuse at the hands of a manipulative family member, and the self-abuse she plunges into to simultaneously feel and not feel what has happened to her. That voice is only tempered with tenderness and sweet, wry humour when she speaks of and to her brother, set back in his own life’s progress by early childhood illness that comes back to afflict him and unravel their already fractured family.

While always defiant and spirited, that vivid voice is not entirely discernible, however. Spewing a churning wellspring of language that is somehow both dense and fragmented, this unforgettable narrator’s words regularly tumble into inarticulate ranting, but can just as easily take exuberant flight as she wields her unique form of black humour. Even as strict meaning is sometimes blurred, though, you will somehow manage to feel, sometimes be strangely charmed and almost constantly be rendered uncomfortable but still compelled by this woman’s intensity, however desperate, misguided and destructive she is, to herself and those she loves.

Through her voice, you also gain a powerful sense of her physical presence. As striking and verging on impossible it is to take in the indignities visited upon her and that she seeks out, it is a comparatively minor impertinence with her deceased grandfather that oddly but most affectingly connects with the physical intimacy, sympathy and even empathy of the final days with her brother. Even if some of her capacity for fearless physical connection has been made in the most horrific ways, you can’t help but feel a breathless, twisted admiration at her perverse determination to survive.

Her particular ability to understand her brother’s confusion and humiliation is both disquieting and profoundly moving to witness – and still, miraculously, leavened with that feisty dark humour – even when her beloved sibling’s existence has ground down to the miserably mundane. Somehow, she alchemizes that misery into something expiatory and transcendent:

“Something. Words words. I’ll go on my own. Your temper that’s the devil up. Normal almost sight again. Pull the bed but melt like water. Gone to hell. All your muscles. You’d give me a hit but can’t. I. There. Lie back. Lie back. You have to. Don’t do this you say.

“Don’t. You have to. And I turn away. I say. Just go don’t worry it’s. Normal now. It’s fine. You. Strapped up in your body. You don’t live there. I. Don’t look. I hear you. Crying.

“Going in the nappy. Rage. Not fair. Not fair. You wait til I’m well. You can definitely kill me then I say.

“Quiet.

“Turn and you are back asleep. I. Know I life the cover. Clean up. And now you’re gone fast far. Breathing. Don’t see me. Don’t know I do. New one. Clean you. Put it in the bin. See. My one act. I might be a person. Beneath the. Where horrible can be a good act of contrition. Shush there. You there sleeping. My boy. My brother. Wish my eye for yours tooth for your tooth. You’re a better. No. It’s all fuck gone. Gone to the gone to the wrong wrong wrong. Be shush for you. I can.”

A Girl is a Half-Formed Thing is perhaps best read in as few sittings as possible to stay with the narrator’s linguistic and emotional rhythms. Ironically, maintaining that sustained attention is like gazing into the sun. You have to stop. You have to look away. You have to take a breath before resuming. In particular, the book’s last 50 pages (pretty much the entirety of Part V, The Stolen Child, an at least two-pronged title) are suffocatingly intense and emotionally lacerating as the heroine’s – yes, she is heroic – anguish reaches a crescendo.

A Girl is a Half-Formed Thing joins admirably other works known for distinctive if fractious voices that veritably leap off the page. The comparisons to Joyce are plentiful and warranted. More titles that come to mind include Pigeon English by Stephen Kelman and How late it was, how late by James Kelman.

Eimear McBride’s admiration of James Joyce and Edna O’Brien is immense and unabashed, as she reveals in this Guardian essay. Her tribute to Joyce can also be well applied to the rewards to the reader who stays with A Girl is a Half-Formed Thing to the end:

Difficulty is subjective: the demands a writer makes on a reader can be perceived as a compliment, and Joyce certainly compliments his readers in what he asks of them.

See also:

Thank you to Simon and Schuster Canada for providing a review copy of A Girl is a Half-Formed Thing, by Eimear McBride.

Many ways to contemplate the books that make us proud to be Canadian

cbc-books-logoCBC Books has just served up another delicious helping of CanLit, a way for us to reflect on, ponder and debate the books that make us proud to be Canadian – not to mention a way for us to determine how complete and comprehensive our own reading is, and where we need to fill in some gaps. Here is the list of 100 novels that their team has compiled to meet these general criteria:

Canada has a wealth of writers telling today’s tales, revisiting our past and imagining our future. Literary or mystery, comic or graphic, historical or out of this world, the 100 novels on our list are must-read books.

CBC Books considered everything from cultural impact and critical reception to reader response to choose these titles. The authors all call or once called Canada home, and the novels are all in print. Enjoy!

CBC Books makes it easy for you to determine how many of the books on their list you’ve already read. I’ve read 55 (some of those multiple times), which pleases me in that it’s a nice balance of feeling I’m keeping up, but can always learn and discover more.

What is nice and kinda chewy about this list is that you can come at it from numbers of different angles. The list on the CBC Books page is sorted alphabetically by title, and also breaks out titles by specific types or genres, such as comics and graphic novels, historical fiction, mystery and more. How about these views of the list?

How about your own approaches to the great list which CBC Books has provided to seed our ongoing CanLit discussion – how would you sort, prioritize, add and delete?

CBC Books 100 Novels sorted alphabetically by author

It’s interesting to see which authors – new, established, historical – are represented on the CBC Books 100 Novels list, and which authors avid Canadian literature aficionados might think are missing.

Adamson, Gil
The Outlander

Anderson-Dargatz , Gail
The Cure for Death by Lightning

Atwood, Margaret
The Handmaid’s Tale
Alias Grace

Badami, Anita Rau
The Hero’s Walk

Baldwin, Shauna Singh
What the Body Remembers

Barclay, Linwood
No Time for Goodbye

Bergen, David
The Time in Between

Blais, Marie-Claire
trans. Derek Coltman
A Season in the Life of Emmanuel

Blunt, Giles
Forty Words for Sorrow

Boyden, Joseph
The Orenda
Three Day Road

Brand, Dionne
What We All Long For

Catton, Eleanor
The Luminaries

Choy, Wayson
The Jade Peony

Clarke, Austin
The Polished Hoe

Clarke, George Elliott
George & Rue

Coady, Lynn
The Antagonist

Cohen, Leonard
Beautiful Losers

Cohen, Matt
Elizabeth and After

Coupland, Douglas
Generation X

Courtemanche, Gil
trans. Patricia Claxton
A Sunday at the Pool in Kigali

Crummey, Michael
Galore

Davies, Robertson
Fifth Business

deWitt, Patrick
The Sisters Brothers

Doctor, Farzana
Six Metres of Pavement

Donoghue, Emma
Room

Edugyan, Esi
Half-Blood Blues

Engel, Marian
Bear

Fallis, Terry
The Best Laid Plans

Ferguson, Will
419

Findley, Timothy
The Wars

Francis, Brian
Fruit

Galloway, Steven
The Cellist of Sarajevo

Gibb, Camilla
Sweetness in the Belly

Gibson, William
Neuromancer

Govier, Katherine
Creation

Gowda, Shilpi Somaya
Secret Daughter

Gowdy, Barbara
The Romantic

Grant, Jessica
Come, Thou Tortoise

Hage, Rawi
De Niro’s Game

Hay, Elizabeth
Late Nights on Air

Hébert, Anne
trans. Norman Shapiro
Kamouraska

Highway, Tomson
Kiss of the Fur Queen

Hill, Lawrence
The Book of Negroes

Hopkinson, Nalo
Brown Girl in the Ring

Johnston , Wayne
The Colony of Unrequited Dreams

Kay, Guy Gavriel
Tigana

King, Thomas
Green Grass, Running Water

Kogawa, Joy
Obasan

Laferriere, Dany
trans. David Homel
How to Make Love to a Negro without Getting Tired

Laurence, Margaret
The Stone Angel

Lawson, Mary
Crow Lake

Leacock , Stephen
Sunshine Sketches of a Little Town

Lemire, Jeff
Essex County

Lyon, Annabel
The Golden Mean

MacDonald, Ann-Marie
Fall on Your Knees

MacIntyre, Linden
The Bishop’s Man

MacLennan , Hugh
Two Solitudes

MacLeod, Alistair
No Great Mischief

Maharaj, Rabindranath
The Amazing Absorbing Boy

Martel, Yann
Life of Pi

McKay , Ami
The Birth House

Michaels, Anne
Fugitive Pieces

Mistry, Rohinton
A Fine Balance

Moore, Lisa
February

Mootoo, Shani
Cereus Blooms at Night

Morrissey, Donna
Kit’s Law

Nawaz, Saleema
Bone and Bread

O’Malley, Bryan Lee
Scott Pilgrim’s Precious Little Life

O’Neill, Heather
Lullabies for Little Criminals

Ondaatje, Michael
In the Skin of a Lion

Ozeki, Ruth
A Tale for the Time Being

Penny, Louise
Still Life

Pullinger, Kate
The Mistress of Nothing

Pyper, Andrew
Lost Girls

Quarrington , Paul
Whale Music

Ricci, Nino
Lives of the Saints

Richards, David Adams
Mercy Among the Children

Richler, Mordecai
Barney’s Version

Robinson, Eden
Monkey Beach

Selvadurai, Shyam
Funny Boy

Shields, Carol
The Stone Diaries

Smart, Elizabeth
By Grand Central Station I Sat Down and Wept

Soucy, Gaétan
trans. Sheila Fischman
The Little Girl Who Was Too Fond of Matches

Swan,Susan
The Wives of Bath

Tamaki, Mariko & Jillian
Skim

Thien, Madeleine
Certainty

Thuy, Kim
trans. by Sheila Fischman
Ru

Toews, Miriam
A Complicated Kindness

Urquhart, Jane
Away

Van Camp, Richard
The Lesser Blessed

Vanderhaeghe, Guy
The Englishman’s Boy

Vassanji, M.G.
The Book of Secrets

Wagamese, Richard
Indian Horse

Watson , Sheila
The Double Hook

Whittall, Zoe
Holding Still for as Long as Possible

Wilson, Ethel
Swamp Angel

Wilson, Robert Charles
Spin

Winter, Kathleen
Annabel

CBC Books 100 Novels sorted chronologically by publication year

Doesn’t this give an interesting perspective of how the CBC Books 100 Novels list spans recent and more historical choices? The CBC Books list offers 43 titles published before 2000, 57 in the last 13 years.

1912
Sunshine Sketches of a Little Town
Leacock, Stephen

1945
Two Solitudes
MacLennan, Hugh

By Grand Central Station I Sat Down and Wept
Smart, Elizabeth

1954
Swamp Angel
Wilson, Ethel

1959
The Double Hook
Watson, Sheila

1964
The Stone Angel
Laurence, Margaret

1966
Beautiful Losers
Cohen, Leonard

1970
Fifth Business
Davies, Robertson

Kamouraska
Hébert, Anne
trans. Norman Shapiro

1976
Bear
Engel, Marian

1977
The Wars
Findley, Timothy

1981
Obasan
Kogawa, Joy

1984
Neuromancer
Gibson, William

1985
The Handmaid’s Tale
Atwood, Margaret

How to Make Love to a Negro without Getting Tired
Laferriere, Dany
trans. David Homel

1987
In the Skin of a Lion
Ondaatje, Michael

1989
Whale Music
Quarrington, Paul

1990
Tigana
Kay, Guy Gavriel

Lives of the Saints
Ricci, Nino

1991
Generation X
Coupland, Douglas

1993
Green Grass, Running Water
King, Thomas

The Stone Diaries
Shields, Carol

The Wives of Bath
Swan, Susan

Away
Urquhart, Jane

1994
Funny Boy
Selvadurai, Shyam

The Book of Secrets
Vassanji, M.G.

1995
The Jade Peony
Choy, Wayson

A Fine Balance
Mistry, Rohinton

1996
The Cure for Death by Lightning
Anderson-Dargatz, Gail

Alias Grace
Atwood, Margaret

Fugitive Pieces
Michaels, Anne

Cereus Blooms at Night
Mootoo, Shani

The Lesser Blessed
Van Camp, Richard

The Englishman’s Boy
Vanderhaeghe, Guy

1997
Barney’s Version
Richler, Mordecai

1998
Kiss of the Fur Queen
Highway, Tomson

Brown Girl in the Ring
Hopkinson, Nalo

The Colony of Unrequited Dreams
Johnston, Wayne

1999
What the Body Remembers
Baldwin, Shauna Singh

Elizabeth and After
Cohen, Matt

No Great Mischief
MacLeod, Alistair

Kit’s Law
Morrissey, Donna

2000
The Hero’s Walk
Badami, Anita Rau

Forty Words for Sorrow
Blunt, Giles

A Sunday at the Pool in Kigali
Courtemanche, Gil
trans. Patricia Claxton

Monkey Beach
Robinson, Eden

The Little Girl Who Was Too Fond of Matches
Soucy, Gaétan
trans. Sheila Fischman

2001
Three Day Road
Boyden, Joseph

George & Rue
Clarke, George Elliott

Life of Pi
Martel, Yann

Mercy Among the Children
Richards, David Adams

2002
The Polished Hoe
Clarke, Austin

Crow Lake
Lawson, Mary

Fall on Your Knees
MacDonald, Ann-Marie

2003
Creation
Govier, Katherine

The Romantic
Gowdy, Barbara

Lost Girls
Pyper, Andrew

2004
A Complicated Kindness
Toews, Miriam

2005
The Time in Between
Bergen, David

What We All Long For
Brand, Dionne

Sweetness in the Belly
Gibb, Camilla

Spin
Wilson , Robert Charles

2006
De Niro’s Game
Hage, Rawi

The Birth House
McKay, Ami

Lullabies for Little Criminals
O’Neill, Heather

Still Life
Penny, Louise

2007
The Outlander
Adamson, Gil

No Time for Goodbye
Barclay, Linwood

Late Nights on Air
Hay, Elizabeth

The Book of Negroes
Hill, Lawrence

Certainty
Thien, Madeleine

2008
The Best Laid Plans
Fallis, Terry

The Cellist of Sarajevo
Galloway, Steven

2009
A Season in the Life of Emmanuel
Blais, Marie-Claire
trans. Derek Coltman

Galore
Crummey, Michael

Essex County
Lemire, Jeff

The Golden Mean
Lyon, Annabel

The Bishop’s Man
MacIntyre, Linden

Scott Pilgrim’s Precious Little Life
O’Malley, Bryan Lee

The Mistress of Nothing
Pullinger, Kate

2010
Room
Donoghue, Emma

Fruit
Francis, Brian

Secret Daughter
Gowda, Shilpi Somaya

Come, Thou Tortoise
Grant, Jessica

February
Moore, Lisa

Skim
Tamaki, Mariko & Jillian

Holding Still for as Long as Possible
Whittall, Zoe

Annabel
Winter, Kathleen

2011
The Antagonist
Coady, Lynn

The Sisters Brothers
deWitt, Patrick

Six Metres of Pavement
Doctor, Farzana

Half-Blood Blues
Edugyan, Esi

The Amazing Absorbing Boy
Maharaj, Rabindranath

2012
419
Ferguson, Will

Ru
Thuy, Kim
trans. by Sheila Fischman

Indian Horse
Wagamese, Richard

2013
The Orenda
Boyden, Joseph

The Luminaries
Catton, Eleanor

Bone and Bread
Nawaz, Saleema

A Tale for the Time Being
Ozeki, Ruth

A list of 100 Canadian books (read or to be read) inspired by the CBC Books 100 Novels list

Needless to say, the CBC Books 100 Novels list stirred up a lot of discussion in a household with a pair of folks who are intensely avid readers and book collectors who also happen to work in very book-oriented professions (libraries and literary prizes). While we appreciate the obvious thought that went into the original CBC Books list, we couldn’t resist using it as the basis for own list. The exercise proved not only how challenging (perhaps impossible) it is to compile a definitive list – kudos once again, CBC Books! – but it also highlights just how rich the CanLit treasure trove is. Here’s how we approached our list and some of what we discovered:

  • Our list of 100 Canadian books / works of fiction simply had to include short story collections. Major literary awards for fiction in this country look at it that way, too. Canada is known internationally for its short story craft, with a certain Nobel winner as one of our greatest but certainly not our only ambassador in this realm. Our list wholeheartedly includes short story collections.
  • We felt there should be a bit more balance between books published pre- and post-2000. The CBC Books list is 43/57 – ours is 51/49.
  • We removed and replaced 15 titles from the original list.
  • On this newly compiled list, I’ve admittedly read a few more – 61 as opposed to 55 on the original CBC Books list. That means I still have some reading to do, which I don’t mind at all!

On the following list, I’ve highlighted where we’ve placed different books, or where we’ve substituted different titles for authors represented on the original list.

Adamson, Gil
The Outlander

Anderson-Dargatz, Gail
The Cure for Death by Lightning

Atwood, Margaret
The Handmaid’s Tale
Alias Grace

Badami, Anita Rau
The Hero’s Walk

Baldwin, Shauna Singh
What the Body Remembers

Barclay, Linwood
No Time for Goodbye

Bemrose, John
The Island Walkers

Bergen, David
The Time in Between

Blais, Marie-Claire
trans. Derek Coltman
A Season in the Life of Emmanuel

Blunt, Giles
Forty Words for Sorrow

Boyden, Joseph
Three Day Road

Brand, Dionne
What We All Long For

Buckler, Ernest
The Mountain and the Valley

Callaghan, Morley
Such is My Beloved

Catton, Eleanor
The Luminaries

Choy, Wayson
The Jade Peony

Clarke, Austin
The Polished Hoe

Clarke, George Elliott
George & Rue

Coady, Lynn
The Saints of Big Harbour

Cohen, Leonard
Beautiful Losers

Cohen, Matt
Elizabeth and After

Coupland, Douglas
Generation X

Courtemanche, Gil
trans. Patricia Claxton
A Sunday at the Pool in Kigali

Crummey, Michael
Galore

Davies, Robertson
Fifth Business

deWitt, Patrick
The Sisters Brothers

Doctor, Farzana
Six Metres of Pavement

Donoghue, Emma
Room

Edugyan, Esi
Half-Blood Blues

Engel, Marian
Bear

Fallis, Terry
The Best Laid Plans

Findley, Timothy
The Wars

Francis, Brian
Fruit

Gallant, Mavis
The Other Paris

Galloway, Steven
The Cellist of Sarajevo

Gaston, Bill
Mount Appetite

Gibson, William
Neuromancer

Govier, Katherine
Fables of Brunswick Avenue

Gowda, Shilpi Somaya
Secret Daughter

Gowdy, Barbara
We So Seldom Look on Love

Grant, Jessica
Come, Thou Tortoise

Grove, Frederick Phillip
A Search for America

Hage, Rawi
De Niro’s Game

Harvey, Kenneth
Inside

Hay, Elizabeth
Late Nights on Air

Hébert, Anne
trans. Norman Shapiro
Kamouraska

Hiebert, Paul
Sarah Binks

Highway, Tomson
Kiss of the Fur Queen

Hill, Lawrence
The Book of Negroes

Johnston , Wayne
The Colony of Unrequited Dreams

Kay, Guy Gavriel
Tigana

Kelly, MT
A Dream Like Mine

King, Thomas
Green Grass, Running Water

Kogawa, Joy
Obasan

Laferriere, Dany
trans. David Homel
How to Make Love to a Negro without Getting Tired

Laurence, Margaret
The Stone Angel

Lavery, John
Sandra Beck

Leacock, Stephen
Sunshine Sketches of a Little Town

Lemire, Jeff
Essex County

MacDonald, Ann-Marie
Fall on Your Knees

MacIntyre, Linden
The Bishop’s Man

MacLennan, Hugh
Two Solitudes

MacLeod, Alistair
No Great Mischief

Maharaj, Rabindranath
The Amazing Absorbing Boy

Martel, Yann
Life of Pi

McKay, Ami
The Birth House

Michaels, Anne
Fugitive Pieces

Mistry, Rohinton
A Fine Balance

Moore, Brian
The Luck of Ginger Coffey

Moore, Lisa
February

Mootoo, Shani
Cereus Blooms at Night

Munro, Alice
The Progress of Love

Nawaz, Saleema
Bone and Bread

O’Neill, Heather
Lullabies for Little Criminals

Ondaatje, Michael
In the Skin of a Lion

Penny, Louise
Still Life

Pullinger, Kate
The Mistress of Nothing

Quarrington, Paul
King Leary

Ricci, Nino
Lives of the Saints

Richards, David Adams
Nights Below Station Street

Richler, Mordecai
Solomon Gursky Was Here
Barney’s Version

Robinson, Eden
Monkey Beach

Ross, Sinclair
As For Me and My House

Selvadurai, Shyam
Funny Boy

Shields, Carol
The Stone Diaries

Smart, Elizabeth
By Grand Central Station I Sat Down and Wept

Snyder, Carrie
The Juliet Stories

Soucy, Gaétan
trans. Sheila Fischman
The Little Girl Who Was Too Fond of Matches

Toews, Miriam
A Complicated Kindness

Urquhart, Jane
The Stone Carvers

Van Camp, Richard
The Lesser Blessed

Vanderhaeghe, Guy
The Englishman’s Boy

Vassanji, M.G.
The Book of Secrets

Wagamese, Richard
Indian Horse

Watson, Sheila
The Double Hook

Wilson, Ethel
Swamp Angel

Wilson, Robert Charles
Spin

Winter, Kathleen
Annabel

2014 reading list (so far)

Waiting For the Man, by Arjun Basu

As I’ve done in years past, I’m taking a look at the halfway point in the year at the books I’ve read so far, with links where they exist to books that I’ve reviewed (either here on this blog or briefly on Goodreads). As I’ve perpetually remarked – and really mean it – it’s a competition with no one but myself, but it is always useful and interesting to stop and reflect a bit where one is at with one’s reading, both quantitatively and qualitatively.

Of the 22 books I’ve read so far this year, 3 were non-fiction, 5 were poetry and the balance of 14 were fiction (novels and short story collections). It’s kind of nice to reflect on this Canada Day holiday that 15 of those 22 books were written by Canadians.

  1. All the Rage
    by A.L. Kennedy

  2. Life After Life
    by Kate Atkinson

  3. canlit

  4. A Recipe for Disaster & Other Unlikely Tales of Love
    by Eufemia Fantetti

  5. canlit

  6. how the gods pour tea
    by Lynn Davies

  7. canlit

  8. Maidenhead
    by Tamara Faith Berger

  9. canlit

  10. Crazy Town – The Rob Ford Story
    by Robyn Doolittle

  11. canlit

  12. The Luminaries
    by Eleanor Catton

  13. canlit

  14. Prairie Ostrich
    by Tamai Kobayashi

  15. Penelope Fitzgerald: A Life
    by Hermione Lee

  16. Bark
    by Lorrie Moore

  17. canlit

  18. Waiting for the Man
    by Arjun Basu

  19. canlit

  20. The Lease
    by Mathew Henderson

  21. canlit

  22. Grayling
    by Gillian Wigmore

  23. Sun Bear
    by Matthew Zapruder

  24. canlit

  25. Ocean
    by Sue Goyette

  26. canlit

  27. Cockroach
    by Rawi Hage
    (reviewed for bookgaga by Paul Whelan)

  28. canlit

  29. Dog Ear
    by Jim Johnstone

  30. canlit

  31. New Tab
    by Guillaume Morissette

  32. Congratulations, by the way
    by George Saunders

  33. canlit

  34. Based on a True Story
    by Elizabeth Renzetti

  35. Americanah
    by Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie

  36. canlit

  37. All My Puny Sorrows
    by Miriam Toews

Currently in progress:

  • The Rise & Fall of Great Powers
    by Tom Rachman

  • Everyone Is CO2
    by David James Brock

How is your reading going so far in 2014?

New Tab, by Guillaume Morissette

New Tab, by Guillaume Morissette

For days after finishing New Tab by Guillaume Morissette, I kept thinking Thomas’ friend Shannon might pop up on Facebook chat. That’s how disarmingly, perhaps unwittingly, authentic the characters are in this book. That authenticity is especially surprising given that Thomas, Shannon and their shifting circle of roommates, workmates, classmates and various acquaintances are often just disembodied virtual entities, to each other and to the reader.

Morissette’s quietly witty novel is set in up to the moment Montreal and traces a year in the life of 27-year-old (well, somewhat inexplicably 26 to his ostensible friends and colleagues) Thomas, a disaffected video game designer looking languidly and yearningly, but not without an undercurrent of genuine determination, to change career and personal directions. Against a blurred-around-the-edges backdrop of dodgy accommodations, fleeting and vague relationships, substance over-consumption (it’d be harsh to call it abuse because it seems so tinged with a kind of innocence), Thomas makes his way. The reader peeks over Thomas’ shoulder at email and Facebook chat clues as to how he progresses, professionally and emotionally.

Thomas’ wit is wistful but rich and constant – a defense mechanism for a psyche both gently bewildered and perhaps singed around the edges from too much time spent online, and an ongoing, rueful delight for the reader, with gems such as:

“My approach with women was like stacking blocks really high in Tetris while waiting for a straight line that might never come.”

“It felt like I was trying to use social networks as a way to prototype myself.”

“Staring at my computer screen, I suddenly wanted to fold my Facebook into an origami crane.”

Morissette keeps the structure of New Tab loose, balancing Thomas’ frequently distracted state of mind while not creating a haphazard or unsatisfactory reading experience. The novel charmingly mixes the epistolary with instances where characters do reach across the static to try to connect, however awkwardly and tentatively. As much as the prevalence of digital communication (or miscommunication) seems to position New Tab as a kind of Virtual Reality Bites, in other respects, the form of correspondence is perhaps irrelevant – just that Thomas and his cohorts are corresponding and trying to communicate is key. In fact, New Tab and the likes of Pride and Prejudice share some literary kinship.

Finally, Thomas stumbles upon a connection between his current vocation and his aspirations:

The more I thought about it, the more I felt like video games and poems had a lot in common. They both tended to take themselves seriously, without caring whether or not the player or reader would be accepting them on those terms. In the story mode of any given Call of Duty, part of the pleasure, for me, came from making fun of the game as I played it, for taking itself so seriously. I sometimes experienced a similar kind of disconnect when reading poems, between the emotional landscape of the poem and my emotional landscape while reading it.

Video games were also often about the player achieving salvation, while poems were often about the speaker achieving salvation.

In the suddenly cinematic last few pages of New Tab, Thomas is propelled into the rest of his life. It feels like the Tetris blocks are falling swiftly and neatly. He is poised to open perhaps the most important new tab of all. The expectations might be downplayed, but you wish him well and kind of hope he pops up on chat or sends you an event invitation for his next poetry reading or book launch sometime in future.

An added delight of New Tab is another arresting book cover by David Drummond (the cover of Marina Endicott’s Good to a Fault is a favourite). The cover of New Tab creates a wonderful sense of physical setting, with slanted transitional light, which could be early morning, or could be early evening, connoting the changes with which Thomas is contending.

See also:

Thank you to Véhicule Press for providing a review copy of New Tab by Guillaume Morisette.

Waiting For the Man, by Arjun Basu

Waiting For the Man, by Arjun Basu

Thirty-something advertising copywriter Joe doesn’t even realize something is wrong until he unwittingly turns his own professional expertise to perverse advantage on his own personal meltdown. Inexplicably disillusioned and disaffected with a career, lifestyle and life that many might find enviable, at least on the surface, Joe simply stops living that life one day and parks himself on his Manhattan stoop to wait for the Man to signal what he should do next. Who is the Man? Each reader who follows Joe’s journey in Waiting For the Man by Arjun Basu is likely to have a different answer.

Joe’s decision to wait for the Man to direct Joe’s next steps can be interpreted many ways. Is Joe paralyzed by depression, truly experiencing something otherworldly and transcendent … or what? Whatever the answer, it almost seems incidental in Basu’s pithy handling (honed by the social media equivalent of an eternity crafting striking one-tweet short stories called Twisters) of Joe’s clinical reaction to his own crisis, as he plays willing party to turning that crisis into a branding and social media event of some magnitude.

As that event starts getting out of hand, Joe perhaps conveniently discerns the signal he needs to depart. The journey commences, replete with pursuing media and copious junk food – rather reminiscent of some of the adventures of a notorious big city mayor we’re all too familiar with these days. Joe’s journey, however, even includes some meaningful if fleeting human connections – connections with people more endearingly and sympathetically sketched than Joe himself. Joe arrives at what is presumably the polar opposite of his slick, fast-paced Manhattan life, a remote ranch/resort in Montana.

Or has Joe really found the dramatic change of scenery that is supposed to symbolize the significant … whatever … it is he’s seeking or craving? For a time at least, Joe works with his hands – peeling apples in the resort kitchen – rather than his head. That sojourn from his own fevered brain is short-lived, though, and it turns out the Montana ranch is as much in perceived need of branding – you know, to take the place to the next level – as any of the products for which Joe built identities when he was thriving, however shallowly, in Manhattan. While a dire turn of events for Joe’s search for whatever he’s searching for, it’s a great satirical turn in the novel.

It’s a wonderful and fortuitous coincidence that this reviewer came to be reading Waiting for the Man one day while listening to a radio in the background tuned to popular CBC Radio program Terry O’Reilly’s Under the Influence. Much of O’Reilly’s examination of the mechanics of how modern advertising and branding works, and how those mechanics sink their talons into consumers’ emotions and psyches, is in glorious play in Joe’s musings.

You’d be hard pressed to pick one @arjunbasu Twister as the best of them all (although the recent “We’d been to karaoke the night before I lost my job. Was it my singing? Or maybe the gun I’d found. In my boss’s purse. On my bedroom floor.” is a zinger). Similarly, it’s nigh impossible to pull a definitive quote from what is the most compelling aspect of Waiting For the Man – its entrancingly paced and parsed words. The book is rich with well-crafted sentences that have benefited from the rigour with which Basu creates his tweet-length stories. There is a tight, potent economy of expression throughout.

But are you going to feel a connection to Joe? Is it even critical to feel that to derive measures of satisfaction and meaning from Waiting for the Man? This reviewer is not dismissing the main character because he’s slightly off-putting, suspect and perhaps unbelievable – rather, very much crediting him because he’s slightly off-putting, suspect and decidedly believable. He’s us, desensitized by and rendered somewhat helpless under the cloud of branding and digital everything under which we live these days. He’s not quite the cipher of Chance the Gardener from the Jerzy Kosinski novel and movie Being There, but Joe is someone onto whom we can to some extent imprint our own disillusionment and dysphoria.

There’s this …

Deep in my heart I was doubting myself completely, but I could not bring myself to admit this. I could admit that the trip was a cheap spectacle cooked up by the media to fill some minutes during the summer’s newcasts. To Dan, the prize came at the conclusion of the journey. The event only had purpose at its conclusion. To me, this ordeal was a path to the start of a new journey. A new life. That’s what I had hoped.

… but then, right at the end, there’s this …

I may have felt freedom. I’m not sure.

Oh, Joe is us all right. He’s irritating and his fate is inconclusive, but we can totally relate.

Learn more about Waiting for the Man, by Arjun Basu

Waiting for the Man in ECW Press book catalogue, including excerpt

Waiting for the Man book trailer

See also:

  • Book Review | Waiting For The Man by Arjun Basu
    reviewed by Lynne for Words of Mystery
    Joe is just your average guy who like several people feels overworked and burned out. One night he has a dream of a man who tells him that he is waiting for him, and it is that one thing that causes him to leave his job and home in search of this mysterious man. What follows is more than just a story of one man’s journey …

  • Arjun Basu’s Waiting for the Man (2014)
    reviewed in Buried In Print
    “We crave narrative,” Joe tells us.
    And the Reader who picks up Arjun Basu’s Waiting for the Man nods: a narrative craver.

  • Waiting for the Man – Interview with Author Arjun Basu
    by Katherine Krige for A New Day
    Joe is a cynic and his journey isn’t easy. For one, there is a mini van. And lots of bad pizza. Showers and sleep are minimal … Sounds like the making of any great adventure, right?

  • Review: Waiting for the Man by Arjun Basu
    by Alessandra in The Book Stylist
    Joe’s journey is a mental one, where he establishes an acute and cynical awareness about the world we live in, a world that is pockmarked in ruts and rigged like bear traps for the unsuspecting.

  • Waiting For The Man – Arjun Basu – Review AND Giveaway
    by Luanne in A Bookworm’s World
    Basu has crafted an unsettling, thought provoking first novel, one sure to leave you taking a second look at many aspects of our society and our own lives.

  • Waiting for the Man by Arjun Basu
    reviewed by Heather Cromarty for Quill & Quire
    At an historical moment when everyone demands to be perceived as special and kids grow up wanting only to be famous, Montreal writer Arjun Basu’s debut novel ponders the possibility of escaping the ennui of modern life, where the safe, corporate dream jobs of our parents don’t offer the expected fulfillment.

Thank you to ECW Press for providing a review copy of Waiting for the Man by Arjun Basu.

Cockroach, by Rawi Hage

I’m excited to introduce Bookgaga readers to another insightful guest book reviewer who comes at things from some intriguing angles. Paul Whelan, over to you: I am an architect whose worldview has been shaped by a belief that cities and buildings are active participants in our real and imagined lives. My reading is evenly split between fiction and non-fiction, but usually underpinned by my deep love of human history.

Cockroach, by Rawi Hage

A book titled Cockroach almost begs the reader to embark on an insect-metaphor hunt. And there are many here to find. If you are the type of reader who wants to make connections between for example Kafka and derogatory racial profiling, it’s all here for the counting. But for me there was so much more to this engaging novel. I read it twice as the combination of character, story and language aligned to keep me off-balance, but eagerly stumbling forward.

The nameless main character is simultaneously off-putting and endearing. His childlike attitude towards his shoplifting and break and enter crimes seems devoid of conventional morality. He oscillates from compelling observations of his adopted city through to being weirdly off-putting. Regardless I wanted him to succeed in his seductions and his crimes. I never lost interest in his interactions with Montreal and its inhabitants.

Cockroach inhabits a city that operates under rules that are invisible to him. His judgment of the naïveté of those around him is equal to his own unexamined naïveté. He coolly exposes the false posturing of both his fellow-immigrants and the soft lives of the Montreal well-to-do. Rawi Hage creates passages of power and beauty such as the hero’s musings on his state-appointed psychiatrist.

“She was quiet and I knew she wanted to ask me if I had killed Tony once I had the gun. I knew she was hooked, intrigued. Simple woman. I thought. Gentle, educated, but naïve, she is sheltered by glaciers and prairies, thick forests, oceans and dancing seals.”

Cockroach’s hero has experienced a far harsher world and has little patience for the morality of the well-fed.

Hage’s novel maintains a tight relationship to the viscera of Montreal. The reader is kept in constant contact with the ice and slush of winter, the hunger before the next welfare check and incessant sexual longing. The hero is desperately in touch with his physicality and is deeply grateful for every scrap of food or sexual encounter. Even his break-ins seem tempered by seeming simpler needs. He takes what he wants based on his assessment of the inhabitants, but mostly food and information.

What I have avoided writing about is the plot. For most of the novel I simply read along for the ride. I was equally intrigued by the hero’s direct pleasure from life and the inexorable unfolding of his story, which skirts around all the great issues – hunger, sex, love and revenge. But there is a great story here that slips through the entrails of Montreal and all its inhabitants.


Note: I’m approaching my preparations for Canada Reads 2014 a little differently than previous years. This year, I’m not reading and reviewing the books in advance of the debates. Instead, I’ve asked five wise and articulate readers – of whom Paul is the fifth and final – to review the contending books and convince me one way or the other of the value of the book and its suitability for this year’s Canada Reads theme of “What is the one book that could change Canada?”

The Year of the Flood, by Margaret Atwood

I’m very pleased to welcome another terrific guest book reviewer with some fresh perspectives to the Bookgaga blog. Over to Rebecca Hansford, who will introduce herself: I am an undergraduate student at Queen’s University, completing my final year in Biology and Psychology. I am currently conducting a thesis, examining how lakes change over time due to climate-related issues. Majoring in science instead of English was a tough choice for me as I have an electric passion for reading. I particularly enjoy fiction that integrates scientific facts, environmental issues and dystopian societies.

The Year of the Flood, by Margaret Atwood

Margaret Atwood’s The Year of the Flood tells the brilliant story of two contrasting women’s survival in a rapidly deconstructing society. The characters’ surroundings are devastating but familiar, a world focused on consumerism, flashy products and unnatural gene splicing. Humans have destroyed the environment and the government has a tyrannical hold over the population. However, the general population is so obsessed with consumption that little attention is given to the political chokehold.

From this corrupt and unnatural society, a small religion of naturalists emerges, the Gardeners. The Gardeners promote vegetarianism and minimalist life choices despite the current society’s focus on consumerism and unnatural product obsessions. At first glance, the Gardeners’ society seem to be a modern-day garden of Eden, however, by delving into two distinct narratives, Atwood exposes both the negative and positive aspects of this religion while telling the story of the Gardeners’ response to the impending doom of the Waterless flood.

Atwood jumps effortless between narratives and time describing the lives of the Gardener women, before and after the Waterless Flood. The juxtaposition of the two women’s characters is remarkable. Toby is a hardwired, strong woman, who learns to fend for herself at an early age. By using third person, Atwood distances the reader from the slightly closed off character. In contrast, Ren is an open, resilient but slightly dependent character. Ren’s narrative is first person and begins when she is a young child, giving the reader an easier connection to this character. The changing narrative is wonderfully done and keeps the reader engaged. Atwood also describes the Gardeners’ prayers, enabling the reader to see into this interesting religion.

By demonstrating Gardener prayers in addition to each woman’s view of the religion, the reader gains three perspectives into the Gardener religion. As a treat, the reader also gets a taste of Atwood’s renowned poetry as Atwood threads religious symbolism seamlessly into the novel. Using these prayers, Atwood comments on organized religion by emphasizing the positive, natural aspects while highlighting the problems and hypocrisy within its organization.

The Year of the Flood poses interesting questions regarding the current technology and economy focused society. In a world of gene-splicing, questionable medicine and secret-meat burgers, how far can society depart from the natural world before it becomes detrimental to human society? Atwood makes the reader question the society’s focus on playing God, while making us wonder if our society has also crossed this line. Atwood reinforces the inconvenient truth that current lifestyle choices are leading to a disaster of global scale and asks the reader if our society will also have to face the consequences of our consumerist actions one day.


Note: I’m approaching my preparations for Canada Reads 2014 a little differently than previous years. This year, I’m not reading and reviewing the books in advance of the debates. Instead, I’ve asked five wise and articulate readers – of whom Rebecca is the fourth – to review the finalist books and convince me one way or the other of the value of the book and its suitability for this year’s Canada Reads theme of “What is the one book that could change Canada?”

Half-Blood Blues, by Esi Edugyan

I’m really thrilled to introduce Bookgaga blog visitors to another wise and diligent guest book reviewer. Sue Reynolds is a life-long reader and animal lover whose sudden, passionate love for Bette Davis movies threatens to consume all of her reading time.

Half Blood Blues, by Esi Edugyan

Half-Blood Blues has won or been shortlisted for an impressive array of prestigious awards since its publication in 2011. It won the Scotiabank Giller Prize, the Ethel Wilson Fiction Prize, and the Anisfield-Wolf Book Award, was nominated for the Governor General’s Award for Fiction, the Orange Prize for Fiction and the International IMPAC Dublin Literary Award, to name a few. The great success of the book has generated countless descriptions and reviews, both in print and online. In the interest of taking a different approach, the Bookgaga kindly suggested that my review might take the Canada Reads theme into consideration.

Half-Blood Blues, Esi Edugyan’s second novel, moves back and forth between Berlin and Paris in 1939-40, and Berlin and Poland in 1992. Its action revolves around a jazz band, the Hot-Times Swingers, which is composed of black and white musicians from the United States and Europe. With World War II looming on the horizon and harassment of “undesirables” (band members Chip and Hiero are both dark-skinned black men, Paul is a blond-haired, blue-eyed Jew) becoming increasingly violent, the Hot-Times Swingers flee Berlin for Paris, partly to escape the worsening situation in Berlin, partly to meet and record with Louis Armstrong.

Edugyan smoothly moves from the drama of the Swingers, their interpersonal tensions, artistic struggles and more serious challenges of avoiding the Nazi presence in Berlin and Paris, to future scenes with the surviving members, years later, who are now old men. The 1992 sections of the novel feel almost like a detective story, as Sid, our elderly narrator, and his best friend, Chip, travel to Berlin and Poland in search of Hiero, the genius trumpeter, assumed killed during the war but alive and living in obscurity.

Canada Reads asks: what is the one novel that could change Canada, that Canadians can look to for inspiration? That will compel Canadians to make a change in their lives, at home or at work, in their community, in their country or around the world? Although the bulk of Half-Blood Blues takes place on the world stage with the horrors of World War II as a backdrop, the novel has an intimate and personal feel to it. We are witness to the creative process that Sid and his bandmates live for and we watch Sid’s infatuation with jazz singer Delilah Brown play itself out.

Half-Blood Blues works its magic, not necessarily through its story, but in how it tells that story. Edugyan conveys the mysteries of jazz music through her use of the written word:

“Kid wasn’t even hardly listening, it seemed. Handling his horn with a unexpected looseness, with a almost slack hand, he coaxed a strange little groan from his brass. Like there was this trapped panic, this barely held-in chaos, and Hiero hisself was the lid.

…I might’ve been crying. It was the sound of something growing a crust, some watery thing finally gelling. The very sound of age, of growing older, of adolescent rage being tempered by a man’s heart. Yeah, that was it. It was the sound of the kid’s coming of age. As if he taken on some of old Armstrong’s colossal sadness.” (p. 278)

Whether Edugyan is describing the freedom found in creating music or the chaos of thousands of panicked Parisians trying to flee their occupied city, her prose sings and reminds us that we are interacting with a living, breathing language. This, I think, is her gift to her readers: she calls attention to the musical, evocative beauty of the English language, how it can be bent and twisted to do the writer’s bidding.

Should all of Canada read Half-Blood Blues we may end up with a nation of book-lovers who have decided to read aloud, the better to hear the music embedded in every text they open.


Note: I’m approaching my preparations for Canada Reads 2014 a little differently than previous years. This year, I’m not reading and reviewing the books in advance of the debates. Instead, I’ve asked five wise and articulate readers – of whom Sue is the third – to review the finalist books and convince me one way or the other of the value of the book and its suitability for this year’s Canada Reads theme of “What is the one book that could change Canada?”

how the gods pour tea, by Lynn Davies

how the gods pour tea, by Lynn Davies

You know how with a really great, involving, engaging work of fiction, you can feel like you don’t want the book to end because you’ll miss the stories, the characters, that narrator’s voice in your head? I’m not sure that is often said of poetry collections … but I know I didn’t want this poetry collection to end. Davies’ voice throughout is warm, accessible, wise, observant and whimsical in a charmingly earnest way. Whether a poem’s subject matter is grounded in the real world or takes off in otherworldly flights (or just hops) of fancy, you trust completely where Davies is going to take you.

Her often economical expression by no means suggest she skimps on resonance, either.

“Might be grief in a puddle
and the puddle dries up.”
(from “On Mercy”)

“licks the shadows of trees off her paws.”
(from “Senility”)

“a river braiding light
as it rounds the bend.”
(from “Trout Lilies”)

“To be clear
as a crocus
among last
year’s shoe-
leather leaves.”
(from “Arrival”)

“I leave books open
in every room
of our house.”
(from “Alone”)

“I love you like crates of potatoes
and abandoned roads.”
(from “The Great Escape”)

These simple, elemental words and phrases … and many more … will vibrate in your mind, in your cells, long after you reluctantly turn over the last page.

Thank you to Goose Lane Editions for providing a review copy of how the gods pour tea, by Lynn Davies.

See also:

Lynn Davies – how the gods pour tea (an interview)
(The Toronto Quarterly)

Annabel, by Kathleen Winter

Allow me to introduce Bookgaga blog visitors to another wonderful and perceptive guest book reviewer. Natasha Hesch loves novels. She started out as a public librarian, and now works at BiblioCommons. She regularly shares short reviews of what she has read as tegan on BiblioCommons’ library software.

Annabel, by Kathleen Winter

I had been wanting to read Annabel by Kathleen Winter for quite some time, but it had just not made it to the top of my reading list. When Vicki asked me to read and review one of the 5 selected Canada Reads books, I jumped at the opportunity to review Annabel.

As I made my way through the novel on my daily TTC commute, I kept thinking about this year’s Canada Reads big question “What is the one novel that could change Canada?” I haven’t read the other 4 Canada Reads titles, but by reading Annabel I think Canadians could become more open-minded and accepting of other people’s differences. Discrimination against people who don’t fit neatly into sex and gender constructs persists today.

The main character of Annabel is a child who is born a hermaphrodite. Treadway, the father independently decides that the child should be raised as a boy: “[Treadway] knew his baby had both a boy’s and a girl’s identity, and he knew a decision had to be made.” (Winter, 26). Although Jacinta and Treadway’s baby is born in 1968, I wonder how different of a situation parents would be in today? I didn’t look into what the typical medical practices are today, but there is still a definite requirement to label a child: governmental institutions still impose the binary of male vs. female upon parents right from the start. I took a quick look at the Ontario and Newfoundland form for getting a birth certificate, and both forms still have only two check boxes available for sex: male or female. At a federal level, Statistics Canada also erases the existence of intersex individuals: on the 2011 Census of Population, only male and female populations are recorded.

Annabel really makes you think about the labels that are placed upon people, and the problematic nature of trying to label everything to try to understand it. Throughout the novel, there are numerous references to naming, defining and labeling things: “Everyone was trying to define everything so carefully, Jacinta felt; they wanted to annihilate all questions” (Winter 45). By labeling things, we are often imposing limits; as Winter eloquently writes “You define a tree and you do not see what it is; it becomes its name” (Winter 350).

As a reader you can’t help but want Wayne to just be who s/he is. There is a very sweet moment early on in the book where Wayne longs for a girls orange bathing suit. He begs his mother for one, but knows his father would not approve: “Could we get me a bathing suit like Elizaveta Kirilovna’s and not tell Dad?” (Winter 86). I wanted to buy the swimsuit for Wayne/Annabel. The innocence of Wayne’s desires are at times heart-breaking. I think if all Canadian’s read this book, they would empathize with Wayne, and be more open to accepting the blurry lines that exist with sex and gender identity.

There is much time spent in the novel on bridges. Thomasina, who accepts Wayne/Annabel for who s/he is, sends postcards of bridges to Wayne/Annabel. S/he is obsessed with these bridges, s/he is constantly looking at the postcards and redrawing the bridges. I couldn’t help but think that the bridges were a symbol of the interstitial space that Wayne/Annabel lives in. A space bridging two places, not male, not female, but in between.

Wayne/Annabel as a character is a very inspiring one. S/he never complains about his/her situation, no matter what happens to him/her. Although at times Winter writes Wayne/Annabel through very difficult experiences, I was very happy and relieved that Winter wrote Wayne/Annabel to a ‘happy ending’. I think that Annabel as a novel has the ability to create empathy for people who are different than one’s self. I look forward to the Canada Reads debates.


Note: I’m approaching my preparations for Canada Reads 2014 a little differently than previous years. This year, I’m not reading and reviewing the books in advance of the debates. Instead, I’ve asked five wise and articulate readers – of whom Natasha is the second – to review the finalist books and convince me one way or the other of the value of the book and its suitability for this year’s Canada Reads theme of “What is the one book that could change Canada?”