Review: The Lost Dog by Michelle de Kretser

Tom Loxley is a divorced, childless, Jamesian scholar who is stalled at the end of writing his book. He takes his dog to a friend's cabin in the bush in order to find the inspiration to finish but on a long tramp with the dog, the dog runs away and doesn't return. Tom's sometimes frantic and sometimes desultory search for his lost dog then weaves in and out of the other plot threads, flashbacks all: his childhood in India and then Australia, his marriage and its ultimate failure, his sexually frustrated obsession with his artist friend Nelly Zhang, and (the only non-flashback) of his mother's aging diminishment.

There are a wealth of themes weaving throughout the tale. There's that of the immigrant and the outcast; there's familial duty and the inheritance of the past. Loss and redemption as well as desire and denial play their own enormous roles as the story builds to its climax. Despite the small action guiding the story, the search for the dog keeps the reader engaged and slightly tensed wanting an outcome even as Tom's life up until the loss of his dog unfolds slowly and with great deliberation reflecting the alternating hope and futility of the search itself.

The writing here is often times dense and rich in meaning with de Kretser showing her deftness with apt metaphors. Her descriptions are minute and startlingly accurate, a decided strength in a story with such an insubstantial plot driving the tale. If there's a weakness here, it's in the characters. Tom himself is hard to like, aimless and as stuck in his life as the conclusion of his scholarly research. Nelly Zhang is eccentric but stand-offish, even to the reader, exploiting her racial identity when it suits. And the long intervening amounts of text between when hints of mystery and understanding are dropped and when their threads are finally reintroduced into the story can induce a sense of frustration in a reader more accustomed to a straightforward writing style. But even with these considerations, it is clear that de Kretser is an accomplished and stylish writer. In the end, while I found it hard to sympathize or care for any of the characters, I wanted to know what happened to the dog, was impressed by the calibre of the prose, and amazed by the dexterity of keeping all the disparate plots going and ultimately interconnected. I look forward to reading de Kretser's other works.

Thanks to the publisher for sending me a copy of this book for review.

Review: Water Wings by Kristen den Hartog

There is something about seeing the word water in the title that draws me to a book. It's an appeal I have tried to explain but haven't quite nailed down. Add to the title words, a cover picture of water of any sort and a plot that has a river running through it and I'm a complete and total gonner. This book promised all of the above even if it ultimately went far afield from its promises.

Returning home for their mother's wedding to shoe store owner Reg, both Hannah and Vivian and their cousin Wren look back on their shared past, starting to understand as adults those things that they couldn't understand as children. Their beautiful mother Darlene is, in so many ways, the same dependent woman she had been in their childhood, both before and after their charismatic father Mick died in a freak boating accident. The narration does much to illuminate Hannah, Vivian, and Wren's characters, even if it isn't enough. Hannah has always been the dreamy sister, the one with synesthesia, the one highly attuned to the tremors and fault lines running through her parents' marriage. Vivian is the practical one, the casually unkind one who picks at her sister, the one who makes sure that everything runs as it should no matter what the circumstances. And Wren is the outsider, not only because she is not a sister, just a cousin, but also because she was born with webbed hands and is therefore used to the small cruelties of life shown so clearly in the community in which they live.

This book is rife with the secrets each character holds close to her heart, secrets overheard, witnessed, and suspected. It is a masterful portrait of a dysfunctional family after it has lost its charismatic center (Mick) and must rely on superficial beauty (Darlene). It is painful and haunting and the reader will wish for more for the emotionally injured young girls. The narrative moves slowly through the past, exposing memories and unearthing long forgotten truths. The present day portions are not quite as compelling as the past portions, perhaps because the girls, even once they learn what has drawn their mother to Reg, still don't fully understand Darlene's motivation or who she has become. There's also something quintessentially Canadian about the narrative here, something that goes beyond setting and manifests itself in a feeling.

I have to admit that I didn't love this meditative novel but I do recognize that it was complexly constructed and well-written. The disconnectedness pulled at me and slowed me down. I never quite felt we understood the characters, despite having sections narrated from their own experience. In looking at the reviews at amazon I am clearly alone in this slight disappointment though. Are you someone who has read it and disagree with me? I'd love to hear why.

Review: The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo by Steig Larsson

I really don't read mysteries. My husband thinks it's because I am a book snob despite the fact that I weaned myself off thumbing my nose at all but highbrow "lit-ruh-chure" many years ago now. But that really isn't the truth of it. I don't read mysteries (or thrillers or true crime or paranormal or anything even remotely similar to any of these) because I am a class A coward. Make that a class A coward with a shockingly overactive imagination. Yes, Nightmares R Us. And so I steer a wide berth around any book that might feed into this little problem of mine. So it was with a sinking feeling and no little amount of dismay to discover that one of my bookclubs would be reading this for March. The only positive as I saw it was that we did already own the book since I gave it to my husband for Christmas based on all the rave reviews I saw around the internet for it. (He is either blessed with a less active imagination or a stronger constitution or both and thus does read and enjoy mysteries.) Being me, I procrastinated on picking the book up until the very last minute, hunkering down with other books not likely to upset my sleep patterns. And then I realized that I had one day, a mere 24 hours, to read this 608 page behemouth before the book club meeting. The good? It's a fast and easy read. The bad? I was up until 1 am finishing it. The ugly? My husband was out of town so I was too creeped out to turn out the lights when I finished.

I'll be upfront and say that I didn't love the book. I know this puts me in the minority. I thought it was a decent read (albeit one that scared me) but not one that was sublime. The prologue opens with an elderly man getting a framed, pressed flower delivered on his birthday. He views this annual birthday present as a taunt from a murderer but the yearly flowers have afforded no further clues as to what really happened to his great-niece 40 years prior when she went missing, presumed dead. Jumping then to the first chapter of the novel, the reader is introduced to Mikael Blomkvist, a financial reporter who has just been found guilty of libel against a large and powerful player in the Swedish financial market. He is trying to figure out where his life and career will go now when he is hired to investigate the 40 year old disappearance of Henrik Vanger's great-niece and to write a family history of the Vangers, long-time financial giants. Although he is not a crime reporter, he is intrigued enough to take the job when the bait dangled in front of him is not only a large sum of money, but some hidden information that will allow him to take down the man who successfully sued him.

Meanwhile, 24 year old Lisbeth Salander, a young woman who is a ward of the state, perhaps because of her Asperger's like personality (the diagnosis here is entirely mine) and who is a genius at private investigating thanks in large part to her incredible computer skills, has been hired to investigate both Mikael Blomkvist and his nemesis, Wennerstrom, also by Henrik Vanger. Ultimately because of this connection, she ends up pairing up with Blomkvist to work on the long-unsolved mystery of what really happened to Harriet Vanger. As Mikael and Lisbeth start digging, they uncover many dark and appalling secrets about the Vanger family. Grisly murders are described and lead to the ultimate, somewhat surprising denouement of this thriller.

In order to flesh out his characters, Larsson not only focuses on the main thread of the narrative, the investigation into Harriet Vanger's disappearance, but he also makes many side excursions into the lives of Mikael and Lisbeth. The reader experiences for him or herself what makes these characters tick and why they react in the ways they do. While this makes for multi-dimensional characters, it also adds to the sometimes confusing narrative hops. Larsson will go from one character to another within the same chapter and without any warning, making for occasionally choppy transitions. There are also some sloppy bits at the very end that have no good explanation, dialogue that makes no sense given the recent developments in the plot line and one character who is dropped entirely despite her long-time proximity to the baddie. These things bothered me far more than they are likely to bother others, especially mystery fans who will be a bit more engaged in the book than I was. Hovering above the story always magnifies any faults and I just couldn't find my way into the story more deeply. The themes of violence against women, obsession, desire, and truth and justice all play out at different times in the novel, overlapping, highlighting, and occasionally tangling together. I really can't speak to this compared to other mysteries but I do think that most mystery lovers will thoroughly enjoy this one. Meanwhile, I am not pleased to note that this same bookclub is reading yet another book with a murder in it. Do you think they're trying to tell me something?

Review: The Saffron Kitchen by Yasmin Crowther

Living in London, in a sort of exile from her Iranian girlhood, Maryam is married to an Englishman and has an adult daughter who is newly pregnant. When her late younger sister's youngest son is sent to England to live with her, his presence opens something in Maryam, a brutality and anger connected to her past. After she smacks Saeed's face and then sees Sara miscarry after she tries to console Saeed, Maryam flees to Iran to face that which she has so long ignored. The narrative splits and follows Sara as she tries to come to terms with the loss of her baby and her mother's flight and subsequent inaccessibility as well as following Maryam as she not only visits the city which she left so long ago but ultimately the tiny village where she spent so many happy summers as a child. While Sara tries to understand her mother from the things left behind, Maryam is facing the horror of her past, one which touched not only her but the love of her young life.

The writing in this is occasionally lovely and poetic but there are enough times where the narrative is unfortunately confused to counterbalance that. It often takes some doing to figure out which narrative the reader is following after abrupt jumps. There is quite a bit of potential here to say something about the immigrant experience but most of that is glossed over in favor of allowing Maryam to go home again so easily. The sense of place once Maryam returns to Iran is not as strong as it could be and the implication is that her father's rigidity and sense of right and wrong was far and away worse than society's own strictures so the idea of a universally Iranian experience is abandonned. Sara follows her mother to the tiny, remote village in an effort to understand her elusive mother but I'm not certain that that understanding ever happened. And Maryam's decisions as an older woman returned to Iran make her less sympathetic than I suspect the author intended. This novel is brimming with hurt and betrayal and people exiled from each other, from their homeland, from their heritage, from their potential. It was a bit frustrating to read but in the end was decent enough. Don't go into it looking for insight into Iranian culture. Rather take it from the perspective of a woman searching to understand and embrace her past even if that means shutting out her family.