"As a child, I thought that life was the most horrible world anyone could ever live in, and that there HAD to be something better."
Wow! If that isn’t "As a child, I thought that life was the most horrible world anyone could ever live in, and that there HAD to be something better."
Wow! If that isn’t the most heartbreaking thought any child could harbor… And yet, that is exactly what graphic novelist Craig Thompson tells us in this poignant and beautifully drawn book. Actually, in some way, his words really resonate with me. I wouldn’t say ‘most horrible’ would be a true statement, but most definitely many moments that I could fairly call ‘dispiriting’ or ‘bewildering.’ Childhood was a thing to be gotten through as quickly as possible so that the more promising stage of adulthood could be achieved.
Graphic novels are basically non-existent in my literary diet, so it’s difficult for me to review this one. I really have no ‘gold standard’ against which to compare. However, I can say that I found this one impressive. As Craig leads us through his path from childhood to adulthood, many themes are examined. Tough themes. The things that happen to us and make us who we are today. Nothing is brushed over lightly, including religious fundamentalism, child abuse, bullying, divorce, disabilities, faith, and first love. Thank goodness for those special people in our lives who help us to make it through the torment of childhood and the teen years. But even those relationships have their trials and mistakes, and at some point good things may come to an end. ‘First love’ has a certain connotation to it, doesn’t it? It’s not something I’d want to live through again, that’s for sure. Despite the sweetness of the term, it can be confusing and agonizing whether it ends abruptly or fades away slowly.
In my opinion, a lot of what happens to Craig and the decisions he ultimately makes are a result of the religious fundamentalism that was a big part of his life. What impacted me the most was watching the change in this young man’s faith. I mean this literally too, as the graphics are so illuminating and emotive. Words were not always necessary to convey what was going on in Craig’s mind. When we do have the opportunity to read his thoughts, I found them quite powerful.
"I felt lonely again, and then used that loneliness as my fuel."
Now that I’ve seen what can be done with this medium of expression, I will give it another try. I have a handful of graphic novels on my to-read list, and I feel more encouraged to get to them. From one novice to another, this one is a great introduction to the genre. ...more
"Today Miss Chandler gave me this beautiful book. I vow that I will never forget her kindness to me, and I will use this book as she told me to – I wi"Today Miss Chandler gave me this beautiful book. I vow that I will never forget her kindness to me, and I will use this book as she told me to – I will write in it with truth and refinement."
What a charming coming-of-age story! It is written as a series of diary entries by a precocious, fourteen-year-old girl named Joan. Life was never easy for the Skraggs family, earning their meager living on a farm in Pennsylvania. But for Joan, there is no end in sight to the tedious, back-breaking work after her mother’s death. Left at the mercy of her father and brothers, Joan is unloved and exploited. Bookworms will find a connection with this spunky young girl. While real life is full of drudgery, she adores her small collection of treasured books and looks towards the future - a future she imagines to be much like what she finds between those pages.
"My books promised me that life wasn’t just made up of workaday tasks and prosaic things. The world is bigger and more colorful and more important than that. Maybe not here at Steeple Farm, but somewhere. It has to be. It has to be."
A bold escape to Baltimore and a position as a hired girl in a wealthy, Jewish household is the crux of the plot. What ensues is often amusing, sometimes discouraging, but always heart-warming. Joan is an aspiring Catholic and much of the humor comes from her blunders surrounding the Jewish practices within the household. Without becoming preachy, I think the book does a great job in highlighting the differences in religion and the respect one should have for the faith of others. Joan is a romantic type, and much of what she expects regarding love comes from her cherished novels. This is almost always likely to land a poor girl in trouble! She gets herself mixed up in some situations that made me both cringe and laugh!
In any event, no matter what, you can’t help but cheer for Joan. With her bright mind and her hunger for knowledge, you’ll want something more for her beyond that of a hired girl. There’s a valuable message of feminism in this book. I think it would be a great choice for pre-teens or adolescents. I suspect many girls would recognize a little piece of themselves in the spirited and passionate Joan. I rarely read young adult fiction, but this is one that impressed me a great deal. I hope some of Joan’s dreams come true!
"When I behold the ocean, I know that the world isn’t just the grind of small tasks and small thoughts. The world is wide and wild and grand. Someday I will sail my little bark into the great ocean of life, braving the winds and the tide. And while the waves may dwarf me, they will not belittle me, because I will be the master of my fate and the captain of my soul." ...more
No doubt you recall that wildly popular novel titled The Book Thief. If so, then I’m sure you remember its narrator – ‘Death’. Well, I have not forgotNo doubt you recall that wildly popular novel titled The Book Thief. If so, then I’m sure you remember its narrator – ‘Death’. Well, I have not forgotten that book, or the fact that I was deeply in the minority with my aversion to ‘Death’ as narrator. It forced me to rate what I considered a decent book only 3 stars, going against a very strong tide of respected reader friends.
"I am Music. And I am here for the soul of Frankie Presto. Not all of it. Just the rather large part he took from me when he came into this world. However well used, I am a loan, not a possession. You give me back upon departure."
“Oh no!” These were my first words when I flipped to the second page of The Magic Strings of Frankie Presto. Please, not another unconventional narrator! Okay, well, I was willing to try to ignore this and get on with what I hoped would be a great story. I absolutely adore music anyway, so it shouldn’t really be a problem for me. Plus, it is historical fiction, and I love a well-written, well-researched HF novel.
The story begins at Frankie Presto’s funeral – we learn this on page one, so I’m not giving anything startling away here. The mystery lies not in the fact that we are at a funeral, but at the journey one takes to this point. And that is primarily what this book is about. Aside from a funeral, it essentially begins at the birth of Frankie during the Spanish Civil War of the 1930s. I loved this piece of the story the most. The turmoil of the times and the people that were a part of Frankie’s early life grabbed me immediately. A young boy is born with the gift of music, and how that gift is developed left a huge impression on me. Frankie is a guitar player, and we learn how he comes to own a special guitar with some very magical strings. The timeline jumps around quite a bit, with the reader following Frankie across the Atlantic to the United States, and then later across the Pacific to New Zealand. We go back and forth in time throughout the book. I don’t mind this technique in theory. In practice, it was slightly jolting due to the frequency. Furthermore, there are little interludes where the reader is introduced to some very big names in the music industry – Tony Bennett, Roger McGuinn, Darlene Love, Wynton Marsalis, Elvis Presley, Burt Bacharach, and Paul Stanley, to name a few. I admit, despite my love for music, I’m not a huge pop culture kind of gal. Some of the names dropped were lost on me. Others may feel differently and find much pleasure in hearing each of these musicians chat for a few minutes about how they knew Frankie Presto personally.
For centuries, musicians have sought to find me at the end of a needle or the bottom of a drink. It is an illusion. And it often ends badly."
As much as ‘Music’ as narrator grated on my nerves, I did come to truly enjoy watching Frankie Presto grow. Sadly, as we sometimes see in those who rise to the heights of fame, Frankie was not immune to the vices that so often ruin a truly talented individual. Drugs and alcohol and the ghosts of Frankie’s past plague him throughout the novel. It’s quite sad really, but an all-too-true occurrence in one so gifted. I rooted for the guy and hoped he could conquer his demons and live a truly happy life.
So, by the time I reached the finish line, I still could not buy into ‘Music’ as narrator. Perhaps I’m just not imaginative enough, but I like a traditional narrator I guess. Not to mention, here I was once again struggling with a whiff of magical realism. This is another case where I could have done without that element in this particular book. The real ‘stars’ of the novel for me were Frankie and the historical aspects. If you don’t mind unusual, omniscient narrators, if you enjoy pop culture, and if magical realism always works for you no matter what, then this book will probably be just the thing for you. For me, there were some very memorable portions and I always wanted to keep going because I did love Frankie. The element of mystery throughout compelled me to turn page after page. Therefore, I consider this book to be good, but not one that blew me away.
"It is not in the bones. Nor in the lips or the lungs or even in the hands. I am Music. And Music is in the connection of human souls, speaking a language that needs no words."...more
"I read omnivorously but not well and certainly without a thought for posterity. I read because I loved it. I read wherever I could, whenever I could,"I read omnivorously but not well and certainly without a thought for posterity. I read because I loved it. I read wherever I could, whenever I could, for as long as I could."
This is a wonderfully nostalgic memoir of author Lucy Mangan’s childhood reading life. But more than that, it is a book that will cause any bookworm that has adored reading since the days of diapers and bottles to reflect on his or her own experiences with books. That is exactly what I found myself doing as I read this one. My own adventures with reading don’t match Mangan’s perfectly, although there are some overlaps for sure. C.S. Lewis, Judy Blume, Louisa May Alcott, and E.B. White were all writers I adored as a child. Others I came to know through reading to my own children – Eric Carle, Maurice Sendak, Dr. Seuss, Roald Dahl, and J.R.R. Tolkien. Then there were other children’s books that I missed the first and second time around and only came to know and love as an adult. Authors like L.M. Montgomery and Frances Hodgson Burnett were somehow completely overlooked as a child as well as an adult reading to my own children! How did I miss these?! In particular, Anne of Green Gables now holds a very special place in my heart and I’m grateful to have not missed this gem, even if I did get to it rather late in life.
"… you simply never know what a child is going to find in a book (or a graphic novel, or a comic, or whatever) – what tiny, throwaway line might be the spark that lights the fuse that sets off an explosion in understanding whose force echoes down years."
I’ve always valued the pastime of reading as being something much more than just a simple hobby, and agree wholeheartedly with Mangan’s belief as stated above. My children didn’t just read (or have read to them) those books that I deemed ‘acceptable’, but also those books that they discovered on their own (even if I did cringe at a title or two once in a while!) I would still happily either read the book to them if requested, or in the very least offer the required cash needed to buy these books at book fairs or bookstores. The library was a place we visited often – much more than I was allowed to frequent as a child. My parents encouraged reading, but were never bookworms themselves. My sister was not a reader, my grandparents were not readers, my aunts and uncles thought it odd that I always had a book in hand. In fact, I often wonder how I became such an avid reader! To this day, my mother ‘brags’ to friends and strangers alike about how many books I read. But when she is in my company, if I pull a book out, I will likely hear, “Oh, you’re reading… again.”! I’m never quite sure about the dichotomy between her two reactions to my reading life, but I’ve given up trying to figure it out and continue on my merry way. Much as Lucy Mangan did. I enjoyed reading about her family’s reactions to her bookish life. It was really her dad that encouraged her reading and procured many a special book for her. I am quite sure this is a memory she will treasure forever.
"I had adored being read to, enjoyed the stories, but the ability to take down a book off a shelf, open it up and translate it into words and sounds and pictures in my head, to start that film rolling all by myself and keep it going as long as I pleased – well, that was happiness of a different order."
I think most readers will enjoy reading about the evolution, so to speak, of a child’s reading experiences. The wonder of holding a book in your hand, the joy of discovering a new, favorite author, the way we wrap ourselves up and hold dear the characters we meet along the way – these are moments we as readers treasure and this memoir relates those feelings perfectly. There were many books that I had not heard of before reading Mangan’s thoughts, and she often goes in depth about particular authors – this may or may not interest some readers depending on how much you can relate to each of those anecdotes. At times I found myself taking notes, adding books to my Goodreads shelf I’ve titled ‘for future grandkids’. Even if I didn’t always have an interest in a particular book or author, I couldn’t help feeling a connection to Lucy Mangan and all fellow bookworms in general. I highly recommend this memoir to anyone that wants to take a trip down memory lane and perhaps reflect on their own favorites as a child.
"Books have not isolated me – they have connected me." ...more
I don’t generally read children’s fiction – in this case, middle-school fiction. That’s not to say I haven’t any experience with it (my kiddos are teeI don’t generally read children’s fiction – in this case, middle-school fiction. That’s not to say I haven’t any experience with it (my kiddos are teens.) I belong to a group of wonderful women that are participating in a book ‘voyage’. Each of us has selected a book (any genre) that will make its rounds to each participant within a year to eighteen months. We share notes with one another, and by the end of the voyage, the owner of each book will have a lovely keepsake with everyone’s reflections. This was one of those selections.
The cover of this book was just gorgeous. It’s a story with a powerful message about hope and courage and believing in oneself. A young boy has washed up on an unknown beach, alone, and without any recollection about himself – even his own name is a mystery to him. His journey becomes one of survival – as a beast lurks just beyond the trees, past the Green Wall. It’s also a journey of self-discovery, as he tries to remember his past, his family, and just why he has ended up in such a scary and lonesome setting. The only voice he hears is that inner voice that sometimes refuses to leave one alone, expressing our deepest fears, insecurities and doubts. He is determined to escape this island and return home. Will he be able to overcome all the obstacles, both physical and emotional, in order to accomplish this feat?
I can’t easily judge towards what age this book would be aimed. It was easy reading, yet I imagine that the premise of being left alone on an island with a dreadful ‘monster’ would cause quite a bit of apprehension in a young reader! I found the pace slower than I would have expected, and at times it was a bit repetitive. Likely this was a result of the writing being simpler due to the target audience. Would a child find the same – I honestly have no clue! Regardless, the message is precise and rewarding, so I’m certain many would benefit from it. My own personal experience with the book was just fine, even if not dazzling. There are some works of children’s literature that I find completely compelling and beautifully written. These, however, tend to be classic works, or in the very least, less contemporary pieces. Some of these sit on my favorites shelf – books such as Anne of Green Gables, Where the Red Fern Grows, Rascal, and The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe. This book was written in 2018, and unfortunately, I’ve read no recent works to afford a fair comparison. I guess I’m just an old-fashioned kind of gal when it comes to children’s literature. I think this would be a great buddy read with a young person. Maybe a great gift for the child in your life!
"Maybe you can’t tell the strength of a person until you’ve seen inside their fears. Maybe a person can’t tell their own strength until they can face their doubts."...more
I really don't like to dump a book. However, if while reading I am fantasizing about the next books on my list and panicking as to whether or not DNF.
I really don't like to dump a book. However, if while reading I am fantasizing about the next books on my list and panicking as to whether or not I'll have time to read them or not, then all signs point to 'this book is not for you.' I was hesitant to pick this one up in the first place, only because it's marked as 'fantasy' and 'young adult'. While fantasy can delight me from time to time, young adult novels often leave me struggling to engage. This became evident with this book as I got deeper into the story. Somehow the characters didn't ring true with the setting - they felt like people with modern day sensibilities plunked down in the middle of the thirteenth century Mongol Empire. Likely this would benefit those readers who would find appeal with the modern feel while learning about a slice of history. The first person point of view didn't help matters any for me either. I didn't even get to the romance aspects of the book, but I suspected they would make me cringe. Teenage angst and all...
I gave up on page 174/410 - a fair chance, I think. I apologize to my fellow NI readers that are sharing this book on its journey! I am just not the right audience, and I think this could certainly please many other readers that have better luck with this genre. No rating - just a plain and simple DNF!...more
"My body hums with Nephew’s pain and with the realization that he has come home only to die."
Xavier Bird has returned to northern Ontario after living"My body hums with Nephew’s pain and with the realization that he has come home only to die."
Xavier Bird has returned to northern Ontario after living through the hell of the fighting and trenches of WWI. He is wounded, dispirited, and addicted to morphine. The one soul who still cares for him in this world will journey several days to meet him at the train station and bring him home. Niska, or ‘Auntie’, is the last of the Ojibwa-Cree awawatuks, those that have rejected the ways of the white man by living apart from the ways of civilization. She also has the power of visions, of divining, a gift that has been passed down to her from her father. It is a three day journey back down the river, and as Xavier’s supply of morphine dwindles away, Niska has little time to save this broken young man from the three day road and certain death. "Their morphine eats men. It has fed on me for the last months, and when it is all gone I will be the one to starve to death. I will not be able to live without it."
What struck me about this novel was that the Native American tradition of storytelling is very compelling here. Author Joseph Boyden weaves together the first-person narratives of both Niska and Xavier. Xavier’s story is unfolded through a series of flashbacks during his drug-induced state. Niska’s history is shared with us as she recounts to Xavier the stories of her childhood and of her life as an isolated woman. We learn of Xavier’s best friend, Elijah Whiskeyjack. Growing up together and learning from one another, these two later set out for the European front. Here the horror and violence of the war is brutally but honestly depicted. War will change a man. You are forced to make choices that will ensure your survival. But even in wartime, is there not a line that should not be crossed? Can one go too far? At what point does the instinct for survival turn to something worse perhaps… savagery, madness? Memories haunt and torment Xavier. A striking similarity is made between the killing fields of war with Niska’s stories of the windigo. A windigo is one that has turned to consuming human flesh in order to satisfy his or her hunger as a result of desperation followed by insanity. Can the absurdity of war be likened to the windigo? Niska shares a vision she once had:
"I knew even as a young woman that destruction bred on the horizon. In my early visions, numbers of men, higher than any of us could count, were cut down. They lived in the mud like rats and lived only to think of new ways to kill one another. No one is safe in such times, not even the Cree of Mushkegowuk. War touches everyone, and windigos spring from the earth."
We are left to consider where that line exists between survival and madness, senselessness. Boyden will not necessarily give you the answers; instead he will leave you with much to ponder. I found this to be very powerfully written, with the strength being in the shared storytelling. If anything was lacking for me personally, it was in the writing style itself. The prose is fairly straightforward, which is fine and will suit many readers. I did not find myself reflecting on the beauty of the language in this book. Naturally, a war story depicting atrocities and what is worst in mankind may not necessarily be beautifully expressed. But it could be! Case in point – All Quiet on the Western Front. It is probably not fair to compare this book to that one, but having read the classic WW1 novel this past summer, I certainly could not help it. I use this only to illustrate a point, however, and would not at all hesitate to recommend Three Day Road. In fact, I highly recommend it to anyone that is interested in learning about a piece of The Great War that is rarely covered in literature – that of the Canadian Native American contribution to that war. In his acknowledgements, the author indicates that this book was written to honor those Native American soldiers. In particular, he references what he considers one of the most important heroes of the time, "Francis Pegahmagabow, sniper, scout, and later chief of Wasauksing First Nation." This is not an easy book to read but I am very glad to have done so. From what I understand, this is Boyden’s debut novel, although he did publish a group of short stories prior to this. I can only imagine that his skill will shine even more in later works, and I can’t wait to read more of those on my list.
"I realized then that sadness was at the heart of the windigo, a sadness so pure that it shriveled the human heart and let something else grow in its place."...more
“… human life is a constant race against the darkness of the world, the treachery, the cruelty, the cowardice, a race that often seems so hopeless, ye“… human life is a constant race against the darkness of the world, the treachery, the cruelty, the cowardice, a race that often seems so hopeless, yet we still run and, as we do, hope lives on.”
This novel is nearly impossible to review. It is beautiful, highly introspective and thought-provoking. It needs to be truly experienced because it is a very personal book. It’s about life and death, grief, love and companionship, books, poetry and words. It is about Heaven and Hell, not as physical places, but as they exist in our lives – what happens to us as well as the absence of certain things. How we live the life that has been gifted to us.
“Hell is to be dead and to realize that you did not care for life while you had the chance to do so.”
The setting is an Icelandic fishing community in another century. Yet, the story is truly timeless. It is about a boy, his friend, and the residents; yet it’s about mankind. Tragedy strikes and the nameless boy sets out to return a book to its rightful owner. With Paradise Lost in hand, he treks across a landscape that is harsh, treacherous and unforgiving. The journey is one that tests not just the physical body, but the spiritual as well. The boy’s soul is snared in darkness from the immeasurable losses he has endured in his short life. How does one go on living when all those one has loved are now lost? The dreams of a future are scattered to the winds, to the imperious mountains and the merciless sea.
“He wants to accomplish something in life, learn languages, see the world, read a thousand books, he wants to discover the core, whatever that might be, he wants to discover whether there is any core…”
What sustains the boy throughout his odyssey are the responsibility of returning the book and the words that his friend murmurs in his ear, “Nothing is sweet to me, without thee.” Much of this novel is about the love for books, poetry and reading. Each of us knows that words can be a treasure and a lifesaver. There is a blind man that cherished his library full of books. It is his personal hell to no longer be able to read those books with his own eyes. The boy recalls that his parents, despite a life full of struggle and toil, recognized the value of books and blessed their son with the same reverence for words.
“Words still seem able to move people, it is unbelievable, and perhaps the light is thus not completely extinguished within them, perhaps some hope yet remains, despite everything.”
Eventually we come to know the people as the boy is introduced to each of them. The narration takes a turn as we begin to follow some of the other townspeople. Their sorrows and feelings of isolation are as tangible as those of the boy. What ties them all together is the need for human companionship. Perhaps words alone are not always enough to preserve a life. Each reflects on love that has been lost or love that one yearns toward. Words may be a balm, but humankind needs one another to survive.
“… we often have to hold onto something in order not to get lost or tumble over the edge, it can be a handrail but preferably another hand.”
My heart ached not just for the people in this novel, but for all human beings, everywhere. Stefánnson writes not merely about his characters, but more broadly about humanity. He does so with a divine, lyrical and metaphorical prose. I was entirely captivated by both the writing as well as the highly contemplative exploration of what it means to not only survive but to be truly ‘alive’.
“What are you, life? Perhaps the answer is found in the question, the wonder that is implicit in it. Does the light of life dwindle and turn to darkness as soon as we stop wondering, stop questioning and take life like every other commonplace thing?”...more
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