Given the nature of the previous book I read by this author and this novel, I have come to the conclusion that she likes to create seriously disturbed, dysfunctional characters. The setting helps with the “mystery”–a somewhat remote island which really is not an island except when the tide comes in. Only one house with only one inhabitant, a steep wooded slope that ends in a rock outcrop with a long plunge to the sea, the disappearance twenty years before of the philandering husband of the famous artist who lived there, and now a lonely, strange, old woman living there alone add to the atmosphere. The relationships among several other characters reveal the continued class structure of British society, its effects. and add to the unsettling nature of the story. To top it all off, a gruesome discovery is made about an art exhibit of the deceased, famous artist who once lived on the island. Although not classified as a mystery, this really is several bizarre mysteries combined. If you like British stories, art, and mystery novels, you will like this novel.
This is one of the most heart wrenching books I have ever read. As a child, the main character, David Winkler, discovers he possesses the ability of premonition via dreams that come true. Only his mother understands him; unfortunately she dies while he is still young, leaving him with father who is only physically there. He becomes an hydrologist, specializing in the structure of snowflakes, leading a rather lonely life as a weatherman in Alaska. While at the grocery store, he meets a woman. He knows what she is going to do before she does it. Eventually, they develop a relationship. The remainder of the novel details the consequences of their relationship and their having a child, Grace. David dreams that he will not be able to save Grace from flood waters, his wife thinks he is crazy, and then to avoid what he perceives will be Grace’s fate if he stays, he disappears. Eventually, he arrives hungry and destitute on a Caribbean island where he is taken in by a kind family who have escaped imprisonment in Chili during the military dictatorship there. He agonizes over whether his running away saved Grace and is unable to find out what happened to her. Eventually he saves up enough money to search even though he has no idea where she might be or how she will react of he finds her alive. Will her mother forgive him, will Grace if he finds her? He is driven to find out no matter the consequences.
This novel’s main themes include love, longing, forgiveness, the meaning of friendship, and the human search for grace.
Note: I have now read everything published by Anthony Doerr. His works contain beautiful prose and detailed descriptions. One of the most impressive things about his work is the amount of research required to write in such great detail about so many subjects, e.g. structure of snow flakes, the anatomy of different types of shells, the history of the city now called Istanbul and its ancient neighborhoods.
This Omani author has won prizes for his fiction. Only a few of his books have been translated into English. This one takes the reader into the remote villages and mountain regions of the interior of Oman. Azzan, the main character, had received highest honors as a child and teen for his academic excellence but fails to win a coveted scholarship to travel abroad for college. His father, who is mainly absent during his growing up, berates him, and Azzan turns to alcohol and addiction. Eventually, he saves himself by becoming a beekeeper. He finds solace in the more remote, wild regions rather than the narrow confines of village life which is controlled by gossip and tradition.
In these wild areas he meets two other men. Although they do not keep domestic bees, they go camping together in the far mountain areas hunting for the prized honey from wild bees. One of these men is a Bedouin who trains prized racing camels. Through him and his wife and friends, he learns how much freer Bedouin culture is compared to that of the settled villages. He learns to dance and talk more freely with women. While in one remote area, he meets a woman, Thamna, who too has escaped the traditional village life and roams the wadis and mountains with her herd of goats always looking for better pasture. He becomes obsessed with her, always on the outlook as he keeps his bees and roams the interior of Oman hunting bees.
This story is not only about Azzan, but also his friends, traditional Omani village life, bee culture, and Bedouin life. For those interested in bee keeping, the author provides detailed descriptions of bee keeping. The language is poetic and infinitely descriptive. I could feel the wind, smell the different wild flowers and the taste of the honey created from them, see the Bedouin dancing, and feel Azzan’s heartbreak when disaster hits.
Although this novel describes a culture far different from that of the US and Europe, I found some things not all that dissimilar: the strict rules of small town life, the greater freedom found in nature, how people develop and lose interpersonal relationships. The language used makes the reader feel there in the moment being described. Plus I learned that bee keeping is very labor intensive and wrought with many things that can go wrong. I eat honey daily and now will have a greater appreciation of what goes into its production and harvesting.
Can you call yourself a creative writer if you have not written a word in months? I have a friend who promotes 20 minutes of writing per day, telling people to just write, forget quality, just write. Really?! I care about quality. Perhaps too much? I make sure to read quality writing 99.99% of the time. Is this just words I am writing here or is it quality or garbage? You tell me!
One thing I can do is read. I’m good at reading. And singing. And gardening. I talk to plants; that’s why they grow for me. I truly care. They bring me peace and joy.
In the last two months, I’ve read three collections of short stories, two by Anthony Doerr and one by Gayle Jones. Normally, I am not a short story reader, but here I am reading these. Talk about different. It’s almost like these two famous writers inhabit different planets. Doerr’s stories seem intensely emotional, often a bit fantastical and heart wrenching with a lush, descriptive, poetic style even though Doerr is not a published poet. Jones is a published poet, yet her stories are blunt, conversational, often first person and sometimes short–one page short.
In many, a character is telling his or her (most of the stories are her) story about where they are, some experience, somebody they knew, what they did or said. In one story the narrator says she’s an angel, explains where she’s been, whom she’s known, and ends up by asking readers if they’ve seen her near the Seine. I doubt anyone mistakes me for an angel.
Note: Book 13 for 2025 is “Butter”, Gayle Jones. A collection of short stories.
If you have ever felt enchanted by a trip to Rome, you will find this memoir delightful and informative. It made me want to return just to stay a while, wander around, visit the more obscure places Doerr describes, people watch, eat, and drink local wine.
In 2007, Anthony Doerr, the 2015 Pulitzer Price Winner, won the Rome Prize to become a fellow at the American Academy in Rome. He and his wife, Shauna, moved to Rome with their newborn twins, Owen and Henry. This memoir memorializes the four seasons they spent living there. They learn to care for babies; wander throughout Rome visiting tourist sites, local restaurants, the butcher, the baker, the toy store; learn enough Italian to acknowledge all the Italians who stop to admire the babies; and attend the vigil for the dying Pope John Paul II.
While there intending to write his later novel (the one that eventually won the Pulitzer) and failing to do so, he does manage to write a short story which I have read in one of his collections and to read everything by Pliny the Elder. His discussions about his readings makes me want to read some of Pliny the Elder myself. As in his short stories and novels, Doerr’s descriptions, language, and observations delight and enchant. This is a wondrous book about one of the world’s oldest and most fascinating cities which he calls, “a Metropolitan Museum of Art the size of Manhattan with no roof, no display cases…
“She was Christian but American Christian, the kind that believed Jesus just needed a bigger gun”–part of the description of the main character’s rich, not dentist mom rich but oil, trust fund rich, blue-eyed, blond girlfriend. Cyrus, the main character is an Iranian American whose father immigrated to the US when Cyrus was a baby after Cyrus’ mom was killed when the US shot down an Iranian passenger plane thinking it was a bomber (July 1988). His dad acquires a job at a Midwestern chicken farm, counting eggs, but special eggs. This farm breeds chickens to grow faster to get to market faster. He works six days a week, long hours, until Cyrus, who excelled in elementary and high school, becomes a sophomore in college. Suddenly, his dad dies.
Cyrus becomes an addict using alcohol and drugs and writes poetry and eventually finishes college. He becomes obsessed with and researches martyrs throughout history–people like Hypatia of Alexandria, Bhagat Singh, Emily Wilding Davison, the Soulit Women. He gets sober and obsessed with his own past. This eventually leads him to travel to Brooklyn to talk to a famous artist whose last exhibit is herself talking to visitors as she dies of cancer. In researching this woman’s paintings, he discovers a strange painting of a young man dressed as an angel whose job as a soldier is to ride at night with a flashlight through the fields of the dead and dying Iranian soldiers consoling them during the Iran/Iraq War. Cyrus knows that his mom’s brother had this actual job during that war and wonders can there be a possible the connection.
Throughout these events the reader is lead to not only explore Cyrus’ thoughts and beliefs but also those of his father, mother, uncle, and best friend, Zee. It is rare for a novel to be both heart wrenching and funny. Akbar accomplishes this task. One moment I found myself laughing out loud and the next almost in tears. I could not stop reading even though the paperback is long. Perhaps my knowing something about Iranian culture, food, etc. helped me appreciate some of the book more than I might have otherwise. Nevertheless, this is a universal story about love, discovering oneself, relationships, parenthood, human nature. It is definitely worth taking the time to read.
While his previous novel, Book Seven for the year, focused on map making, what it is like to be a refugee, and the stories of two, strong girls centuries apart, one of this novel’s main focus is birds. One narrator, at first no name and then later Nadir, relates part of the novel. His mother was an ornithologist who died in a tragic fire. Her ghost often speaks to him. The other main character, Laila, was a famous artist, an illustrator and painter of birds who mysteriously disappeared decades ago. She and a Black ornithologist insisted they had seen a new species of ibis, and she is supposed to have made drawings and paintings of this rare bird but all evidence disappeared with her.
This is also the story of various non-cisgender characters, some of whom hid their true identities from even those closest to them. Additionally, it is the tale of the lives of Syrian Americans in a NYC neighborhood, plus its destruction and renewal. As in his previous novel, the language and descriptions are poetic, often haunting, and sometimes heartbreaking. It also illustrates how our lives are often interrelated even when we are unaware, only to be discovered after years of searching.
I am guessing that the novel is at least somewhat autobiographical given that Nadir, born a girl, knows inside that he is really a boy. Between this novel and the first one, the author transitions from female to male.
Both books are beautifully written and I highly recommend reading them.
Two young heroines dominate this fascinating novel which switches back and forth between the Syria of 2011 and the 12th century. The latter is a girl who disguises herself as a boy to join the quest of a famous mapmaker. Nour, the first girl, lost her father to cancer in NYC. Then her mother, a mapmaker, decides to move herself and the three daughters back to Homs, Syria. They barely settle into their new life when the civil war breaks out and a bomb destroys their house. They become refugees. This is the tale of their harrowing journey from Syria to Jordan to Egypt to Libya to Algeria, then Morocco and finally to Cuenta, the Spainish city on the north coast of Africa, where their uncle lives.
To keep sane, Nour repeatedly tells herself the story of Rawiya, the disguised girl who is an apprentice to the map maker. When he was alive, this was the favorite traditional story her father told her. The book alternates between what is really occurring to Nour and her refugee family and this ancient story. At the beginning of the section for each country through which they travel, there is a touching and beautifully written poem in the shape of the map of that country. The poem for Jordan/Egypt is printed below.
The subtitle of this book is “The War of Brothers That Shattered an Empire and Made Medieval Europe”.
The empire to which they are referring is the empire created by Charlemagne which was at the height of its power in the early 800s. He had managed to combine the territories of almost all of what we now consider Europe except for the far north and southern Italy and Spain and Greece. He managed to do this through cooperation among the nobles and the elite and it held throughout his life. He helped the spread of Christianity throughout what was previously pagan areas, e.g. the Saxons. Then not long afterward chaos ensued.
This history book details what occurs when fissures develop in what was once a stable social and political network and the bloody consequences of disagreeing on facts and reality. What happened?
For some time after Charlemagne’s death one of his son’s was able to hold the empire together by deftly giving bits of power to various sons and relatives. Once he died, a chaotic blood bath arose. Fathers and sons, brothers, uncles, nephews, everyone was killing or maiming each other for power. If they felt it was too unChristian to kill you, they just blinded you and sent you off to a monastery. If that did not work, then they would declare a female relative to be a witch and we all know what happened to witches. Meanwhile while jockeying for power, all these men declared they were doing what they were doing in the name of Christianity. If one brother won a battle, then he declared himself to be a better Christian than the one that lost. Even monks and bishops and the Pope became involved.
Then came the Battle of Fontenoy in what is now a part of France. Brothers against another brother with each leading more than 10,000 troops and in some cases as many total as 100,000. Watching was a noble who also commanded a huge army, but mostly he decided to just watch. The end result was a total bloodbath with one side violating the then current rules of battle. Normally, battles before this did not include a huge amount of killings in spite of what we now see in movies. This battle left thousands dead for the wolves, vultures, and other scavengers to eat, and the nearby streams ran red with blood. None of the warring brothers were killed so their fighting continued but no one ever really won and the great Frankish Empire created by Charlemagne fell totally apart. Some claim this battle was the beginning of the separation of a lot of Europe into what we now call France and Germany. Currently there is a marker at the place where the battle occurred. Regardless, Europe was never the same again for many centuries.
Note: Many find the world a very violent place today. Currently, wars and revolutions of one kind or another are occurring in many places in the world. Generally speaking, however, we do not find fathers and sons and brothers killing each other for power. We are seeing the consequences of what was once a relatively unified populace disagreeing on the facts and reality. Will we too fall into a dark ages like Europe did?
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