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 As a child, Sooky is molested repeatedly by her next door neighbor, an older man named Lionel that her mother often insists she visit. These incidents change her life forever as the reader watches her go from depending on one man to another, always valuing herself based on what others think.
What an interesting character study this is. I felt detached from Sooky, but connected enough to also feel sympathy for her and sadness and disgust at the behavior of these men that she relies on. She distances herself from them, too, as well as from reality, constantly shutting down her emotions because she doesn’t want to feel. She’s been trained not to feel. Instead, it comes out in her art, and I found in that the true beauty of this novel. The beginning was hard to take, as every tale that starts out like this should be. I really appreciated the characterizations, almost-real but sometimes identifying one single dominating trait that made each person distinct. The narrative is sometimes distancing and sometimes engaging, reflecting Sooky’s mood and personality extremely well.
Overall, I really liked this book. There’s a lot to like about it. It’s also cyclical in nature, which is something that oddly, I really love. And I’m conflicted about the ending! I’d love to find someone else who has read it to discuss this novel because it begs to be talked about. It’s very literary and the English major in me is crying out for a class on it.
So yes, I would recommend it! And once you’ve read it, come drop me a comment so I can finally talk about it with spoilers! Buy this book on Amazon.
Review
Aberrations by Penelope Przekop traces a pivotal period in the life of Angel Duet, a narcoleptic twenty-one-year old with an extremely dysfunctional family and a non-existent social life. Enter Tim and Kimmy, Angel’s co-workers with their own oddities, who together propel Angel into a new and confusing world that changes her outlook forever and for good.
I didn’t know much about narcolepsy on starting this book and I was surprised by how deteriorating and upsetting it can be. No one seems to understand Angel’s condition and her desire to escape it is so great that she turns to drugs as a refuge. The illness drives people away from her and causes them to think that she is lazy, stupid, or retarded, when really she is a clever girl who longs to be normal. I really felt for Angel throughout the book and I wanted her to get that normal life, or at least a semblence of it. Her search for family, particularly mother, was extremely moving. The book also deals with the side issue of homosexuality in the 1980’s South – Tim is gay, as are two of his cousins. We get an interesting glimpse into their underworld as well as their struggle with “ordinary” people who attempt to suppress all that is different.
Another thing this book handles well is relationships. Angel has few relationships at the start of the book – her adulterous liason with Mac, a married doctor, and her confused relationship with her father. She develops friendships with Kimmy and Tim, sexual relations with one of Tim’s cousins, and her relationships with her father and especially his girlfriend Carla progress in believable ways.
For a short book, under 300 pages, this book packs in a lot! I really enjoyed it and I found myself deeply involved in the characters’ lives. Przekop brings up many sensitive issues, but in a way that causes the reader to think and consider them in a new light. I’d highly recommend this book to anyone who would like to read a deeply affecting, well-written, engrossing novel.
Interview
Q. Why narcolepsy? The characters each had their own flaws and I was wondering why narcolepsy was your focus, rather than, say, sexual orientation.
A. A focus on sexual orientation as opposed to narcolepsy would have resulted in quite a different book, I think. They are both important topics that many people have trouble relating to; however, when planning the book, my initial interest in narcolepsy led me to focus on it due to its unique metaphorical capabilities. Lots of books have been written about sexual orientation. Perhaps the BIG one that breaks a glass ceiling and remaining barriers has yet to be written, which is certainly an interesting challenge. It just seemed to me that the time was ripe for narcolepsy and I felt compelled to tackle it. Narcolepsy continues to be commonly used as comedic relief. I suspected that it wasn’t actually funny for those who suffered from it, and thought it might be rewarding to tell their story. I do think there are a lot of similarities between how Angel and Tim felt, which also speaks to the universal emotions we all have regarding whatever it is we must deal with as individuals. When other people fail to understand us, or when we fail to embrace ourselves, it touches a common place. I hope readers will take that away from the novel, and that it will making a lasting positive impression.
Q. Your characters seem as though I could meet them on the street tomorrow, particularly Angel. Do you ever draw them from people you know, or are they entirely products of your own imagination?
A. There is a bit of myself in each character that I create. Aside from that, I toss in bits and pieces of people I’ve known or currently know. Then on top of all that, I make things up. It’s like putting in all in a pot, swirling it around, (cooking it up) and then seeing what results once you’re ready to eat. Of course, I do this in the context of the overall point of the book. I create the types of characters that will propel the story I have in mind.
Q. Why did you choose to have the characters speak with Southern accents? I really appreciated this choice, by the way, because it helped a lot to keep me grounded in the setting.
A. Well, you would not believe how many times I went back and forth with this. I think I went through the entire book three or four times, adding it in and taking it out. I’m actually adding it back into my first, unpublished novel now. So I’m glad you liked it! I like it for the very reason you’ve noted. My goal was to include just a touch of it to help convey the setting. I think too much of that sort of thing can distract readers. When I’m writing, it also helps me to keep focused in that setting as well. It also has helped me write more realistic dialogue, I think, because having grown up in the South, it’s closer to how I actually speak. I conjure up conversations in my head and that’s how they comes out on paper. The new novel that I’m planning will likely have only one southern character so there will be much less of it.
Q. This may be a bit naive to ask, but did many places like The Blue Flower exist? Do you know of any real ones that I could research, just out of curiosity?
A. I did go to a similar place in Shreveport a couple of times when I was in college but it wasn’t called The Blue Flower. I can’t recall the name of it but part of my description was based on my experience there. I made up all the stuff about the flowers. Other than that, most of the places in the book are real places. The other clubs mentioned were real although I don’t know if they’re still open for business now. The Kon Tiki is still open in Shreveport. And of course, Louisiana State University in Shreveport is thriving.
Q. I’m not a doctor, but there was a lot in the book about Angel’s narcolepsy as well as about another character’s mental condition. Do you do much research before starting to write a novel, or only as you go along?
A. I did the majority of the research prior to writing the book. However, I continued to learn as much as I could as I was writing. I wanted to learn about narcolepsy from people who suffered from it rather than medical textbooks so I read a lot of Internet message boards. At the time, the Internet was just taking off so there wasn’t as much information available as there is now. I emailed with several college students who had narcolepsy to ask questions. One girl in particular read passages I wrote to tell me if they were realistic. That was extremely helpful.
Q. Betty Lou’s cloud photography is extremely important to the narrative and to Angel’s life. What would you say these clouds
symbolize for her?
A. They essentially symbolized mother to her. Mother found everywhere, if you think about it, because each cloud was shaped like something ordinary or familiar. And they were soft, beautiful, and overshadowing. Lastly, they were always there.
Q. And a purely personal interest question – are you working on another novel? I really enjoyed this one and I’d love to have another to look forward to!
A. Yes! I’m so excited about it and can’t wait to get further into it. Right now I’m doing a little editing on my first, unpublished novel currently titled, Jesus Wept. (Publishers often change titles.) If all goes well, Jesus Wept will be the next one on the shelves. Like Aberrations, it also includes numerous themes. It delves into the intense conflicts that can result from growing up in the Bible Belt while trying to relate to the tough realities of life. It’s not a religious novel but rather one that takes a realistic look at the complex role that fundamentalist religion, in particular, can play as we struggle to find a reality we can believe in and embrace as young adults–which is what we all go through in some form or another. So, my third novel is the brand new one that I’m currently planning. I don’t have a title yet but I’ve completed the majority of the research and will soon be at it full speed ahead. I don’t want to say too much about it since it’s in such an early stage. I can tell you that there will be a southern character in New York City, and it will compare and contrast current corporate politics with the ideals of Ellis Island while packing in numerous universal themes. I’m excited about blending my southern background and my own corporate experience to tackle this one.
Thanks so much, Penelope, for answering my questions, and thanks also to T.J. Dietderich for arranging this! For more information, see Penelope’s website and her blog. Aberrations comes out tomorrow, but you can buy this book from Amazon today!
The White Mary is mainly the story of one woman, Marika Vecera, a magazine reporter whose life mission is to travel to all the dangerous parts of the world and report back on them. The first half or so of the book alternates between these trips, a growing relationship with her boyfriend Seb that she never expected, and her dangerous search for older reporter Robert Lewis, her idol, in the jungles of Papua New Guinea. The second half focuses on her journey and is where she really discovers who she is, what she wants, and how to be happy.
I really, really liked this book. Marika’s emotions and motivations and personality were so believable. I’d be a bit more stunned by this if the author wasn’t a reporter herself, but even so, conveying it to that level in fiction is truly impressive. The other characters were unfortunately a bit shadowy, but she really shines; this is her story and these are her discoveries. I have never been to any of the places she visited and if we’re being honest here I have no urge to go (I’m no reporter), but with this book I felt that I was there when she was and experiencing the same dangers. It’s hard to detach yourself from the narrative and I read it very quickly.
Plot moves along swiftly for the most part, though her struggles in the jungle and afterwards were a bit slower. The interconnected storylines make sense and allow us to gradually understand Marika’s mission even as she goes forward with it. The author does a very neat job piecing together her history so that we have the full picture by the time the book reaches its climax.
I think The White Mary is meant to be compared to Heart of Darkness, given that Marika travels into the center of the Papua New Guinea jungle, but it is so much better and since I’ve tried to block Joseph Conrad’s work from my mind, I cannot go into that here.
Overall, though, the book is about self-discovery, and Marika’s realizations towards the end made sense. The author had been building up to them all along. That didn’t stop them from having an emotional impact – I even cried at the end, and I haven’t done that for at least a year. The book is very moving and the emotions all feel so real. I’m impressed for a first-time fiction author. I’d certainly recommend this book to someone else.
Release date: August 2008
This review may contain spoilers for Ishiguro’s work, which is best approached without any knowledge of the subject.
I only now realize how much of a disadvantage it was to read The Remains of the Day before the rest of Ishiguro’s work, although I had no choice since I read it for a class. This book feels very much like practice for Remains. Same type of unreliable narrator, an aging man who views his past differently from everyone else and only gradually realizes his mistakes. It isn’t perfect here. The emotional impact isn’t as jarring, even though Ono has wasted his life just as Stevens has. There is that same juxtaposition as the world changes and leaves the old men behind, and in both novels the older man runs into the younger generation, all of whom have a fiercely different view.
Ono is an artist who, it seems, painted propaganda and supported the Japanese war movement, which disastrously ended with the atomic bomb and the loss of World War II. When Japanese nationalism goes out of style, so too does Ono, but he only gradually realizes it, and he still finds himself worthy. This novel is really about his humanity, about the disjointed nature of the human mind and how we ponder things after the fact. Ono is unreliable in that everything is through his eyes. What’s interesting for me is the very stiff, formal nature of Japanese society contrasted so effectively with the personal style of Ono’s storytelling; things like the wedding dinner show this off quite well. I also enjoyed his relations with Ichiro, his attempts to read himself and his son into the little boy — sometimes even ignoring what Ichiro wanted while believing he was doing exactly as his grandson wished. How true to life the relations are. This is one of Ishiguro’s specialties.
Aside from Ono’s place as narrator and subject, the novel is contrasting “the floating world”, old Japan, with the modern Japan and its close ties to America. Was that old world useless? Are men like Ono useless? Is the whole of Japanese history now obsolete? It’s an interesting question, and one that the book doesn’t quite succeed in answering, but leaves open for the reader, and the future, to decide.
I still wish I had read it before Remains. That book is truly his masterpiece. This one, however, was enough for me to continue to seek out the rest of his work. Ishiguro’s style is so distinct and crisp and his technique so refined that reading even a half-way decent novel of his is better than most of the contemporary fiction I have read.
This sequel to CHOCOLAT is much darker and more intense. You should read that book before this one. Although enough hints are dropped that you may understand what’s going on, you will lose a lot of affection for the characters and important background. Vianne Rocher and her daughter Anouk have assumed new names and new, nondescript personalities in an effort to evade the Black Man, who is always chasing them. When Zozie, full of magic, enters their lives, it’s impossible for them to resist her appeal, and she quickly establishes herself with Vianne and Anouk. She is also a viewpoint character, which means the reader suspects her from the very beginning of being something much worse than the other characters can see.
The book starts slowly as we grow accustomed to the Rochers’ new life. Anouk attends a regular school and suffers as any pre-teen does. Vianne hides her vibrant personality as she romantically entangles herself with their landlord, a regular man. Their chocolaterie barely pays the rent. Zozie emerges as a helping hand, and the reader quickly sees that she is just as Vianne used to be, before Vianne became afraid. The plot escalates from there and remains very gripping throughout. It’s much stronger than CHOCOLAT in that sense, but also not nearly as endearing. There are no Armandes or Josephines and many of the chocolaterie’s customers remain a scanty character sketch. A few exceptions exist, like one of Anouk’s friends, but overall, there isn’t the same feeling of community.
It’s easy to feel frustrated with Anouk and Vianne for being blind, as well, as they remain ignorant to Zozie’s secrets long after she has revealed them to the reader in her sections. They are still the most likable characters in the book, particularly Anouk, and I grew even fonder of them than I was before.
This book has much to recommend it. The plot is suspenseful and tightly woven, the main characters elicit strong feelings from the reader, and the entire book is very satisfying by the end. I enjoyed the relationships between characters most of all as they grow and change. I’d definitely tell a friend to read it.
A young woman and her daughter come to a small French town to set up a small chocolate shop. They are not Christians in a town full of them, and they meet with a great deal of prejudice, but still manage to set the lives of the people in the town in a whirlwind.
The best description for me is that this book was cute. It was enjoyable, deftly written, with likable characters. I enjoyed the effect Vianne and Anouk had on the townspeople and particularly their interactions with Reynaud, the priest. I also liked his journal entries and the differences of perspective, although I didn’t at first, and I think it was a great way of introducing back story and motive without burdening the central narrative. There was a certain lack of substance, perhaps related to the transience of the two main characters since they are prevented from forming any relationships that feel lasting. Perhaps that stopped some of the emotional investment in the little town and its vulnerable inhabitants.
Regardless, I liked it. I would probably recommend it to my friends if they were looking for something light, perhaps like a piece of reading chocolate.
Ian McEwan is such a frequently-mentioned author that I figured I had to read something by him eventually. I didn’t find the brilliance that everyone talks about in ON CHESIL BEACH, but that’s not to say it was bad.
I think its problem was mainly its length. McEwan attempts to interweave a snapshot of a couple’s honeymoon with memories of how they met and how their relationship progressed up until that point. In less than two hundred pages, though, it’s just very difficult to like the characters. McEwan didn’t manage to engage me in their lives. I was interested in what was happening to them, but I think the book never breaks the barrier and allows the reader to feel for them. Instead they just remain oddities, too foreign from my own experience to gain empathy. In fact, I didn’t feel anything until the last few pages of the book, which I don’t think was the idea.
I still liked it though. As a little snapshot of what could have happened to one couple in the age of inexperience and hushed proprieties, it was interesting. I just never felt like the characters could have existed. I think I’ll try Atonement at some point in the future and see if this author is worth reading again.
This is a story about three generations of Irish women, in the end coming full circle back to the island of their origin. Watching them repeat the mistakes of their forebears because of lack of communication is sad. Although each story is a little different, the connections between them are obvious even as they are intertwined. Cliona gives birth to her daughter, Grace, in America, knowing that she will be rejected if she returns to her Irish island. Grace rebels almost instantly against her mother, and it is her story that is the saddest as she never quite gets what she wants and loses everything in the end. Grace’s daughter, Grainne, is extremely close to her mother but has believed her grandmother dead since she was three. Instead, she finds herself returning to the island, facing a new life that she must adapt to.
I enjoyed this book. I thought there was little too much emphasis on sex, as there does tend to be, and the author frequently talked about how people smelled. I don’t know about anyone else, but I know very few people who have such a distinctive smell present around them all the time. In fact, I can only think of one. It threw me out of the story instead of bringing me in, which I don’t think was the author’s intention, just because she talked about people’s scents very frequently. Setting that aside, I found the book moving, especially the communication barriers that life constantly throws up around us. That is so true, especially between teenagers and their parents. Families can be brutal and I think that Lisa Carey shows how true that is, despite the love that is ever-present. I’m not sure I would recommend this book to someone else unless they suggested it first, but I did enjoy it.
I received FIREFLY LANE as part of the LibraryThing Early Reviewers program. The book is about two best friends and their travels through life in the 70’s and onwards. Tully has a deadbeat drug addict for a mother, while Kate comes from a smothering, loving Irish family. They are different in many ways, but manage to get past this and become lifelong friends.
This book is definitely chick lit. Too many references to Tully’s big boobs. It also was somewhat unrealistic and manipulative. It’s very easy to care for both Kate and Tully, although Kate is definitely more sympathetic, especially in the years when she falls into Tully’s shadow. I consistently got the feeling that Kate was a vastly better person and I liked her for it. Tully tried, but she got on my nerves so often, particularly regarding her attitude with Marah and Johnny.
I could feel the author purposely manipulating my feelings. This isn’t the kind of book I like, and mostly for that reason. I don’t like girly books that set out to make the reader cry.
*spoiler*
I hated the ending, it hit too close for me and while I appreciated the author’s message, surely there could have been a better way. Maybe not, but personal reasons made me very unhappy with it. I dislike when authors play the cancer card, even if they’ve been through it before – it’s too damaging for everyone involved, and making me care about the characters makes it even more painful when I have real-life knowledge of what happens to families like Kate’s.
*end spoiler*
I’d have called this book brain candy if it weren’t for the horrible manipulative emotional ending, but if it weren’t for that, it would be forgotten very easily. As it is, it’s still a good chick lit novel. It’s written well and succeeds in its mission of making you care what happens to these people as you watch them grow up. It reminds me of books I read as a teen, especially in the beginning. I’d recommend it to friends who already enjoy this sort of thing.
I hesitate to write much in this review, as this story unveils itself slowly and to some effect. I will eliminate any plot summary and simply get to what I felt about the book.
I was disappointed. I felt it was building up to a big revelation that I saw coming while the characters didn’t, and while the resolution did resonate with me, there was still an element of detachment. Perhaps this is significant regarding the subject matter, as detachment is obvious, but it prevented me from feeling connected to the characters or caring much about their situation, even when their situation was one I should have cared about deeply. I think this book is more a tale of “look what could happen” rather than “feel how horrible this could be”. I’d be interested to discuss it, but I’m disappointed, having hoped for something similar to The Remains of the Day – my favorite book of 2007.
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