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BOB |
In the 3 decades, since it was published, The Handmaid‘s Tale has sold 8 million copies. Thousands of readers have asked Margaret Atwood what happens next. The Testament answers that question in three voices. One is a 16-year-old living in Canada having been smuggled out of Gilead as a baby by a handmaid. Another, 10 years older, lives in the women’s facility in Gilead, in training to become an Aunt. The third is Aunt Lydia, the highest ranking woman in Gilead, whose powers are second only to that of the government’s high commander. This book is a deeply moving joy to read. It moves quickly with moments of laughter and no shortage of tears.
In Ng's dystopian autocracy, the love a father and son, the bravery of the librarians and the son's quest to find his mother who has become a leader of the resistance, combine to carry the reader non-stop through this tale which is also a warning to us all. This is a revolutionary novel in a time where revolution may soon become our last resort.
A gutsy foray into a world where the whites, including the narrator, are turning black and learning, first hand, what POC experience every day -- the looks, the snubs, the terror. And for the whites who have not yet transitioned to being dark skinned, the fear that they may soon be the oppressed minority. Amid all this social upheaval, Hamad's protagonist must deal with the chaos of suddenly being the black employee of his white boss, the black son of his white father and the black partner of his white lover. In the case of his father and his girlfriend, the question is will the racial difference destroy the relationships or will love conquer life-long attitudes to "the other."
I've always loved Erdrich's novels so she had me at "hello." Then she swept me to a new level of respect for her ability to create a story in which even the minor characters, the part-timers, were well formed and fully deserving of our attention. As to the narrator and her family, I'd love to sit on the porch with them, wine glass or beer bottle in hand, and watch the sunset.
This was the kind of great writing that made me forget that I was reading a book. I could feel the narrator thinking as she tried to understand what was happening in her rapidly changing world of pandemic, politics, police violence, family and friends.
I love good dialog. In this gem of a novel it might be between Bobby, the mathematician turned physicist turned salvage diver and his co-workers. Or perhaps between young, but only in years, Alicia and her hallucinations. In either case, it's brilliant. Pauses are required at times to recover from a humorous exchange and at other times to wipe the tears. Far less violent than his previous two novels, you'll still find yourself propelled at high velocity from start to finish with an occasional pit stop for some particle physics and thoughts on the afterlife or lack thereof.
At the end of a bus line up from Phoenix lies a little town where Maybell’s Café is the only place to eat other than the quickie mart at the gas station. One morning during the breakfast rush, her temperamental cook tears off his apron and stomps out the door. A quiet young stranger walks over to the grill and takes over the flipping the eggs. He seems to have the ability to know what the customers want to eat before they order it! Wonderful chaos ensues, narrated by Maybell’s 16-year-old daughter. I couldn’t stop reading this novel except to occasionally dry my tears or recover from a fit of uproarious laughter.
Atwood is brilliant--obviously, yes, but wonderfully so, nonetheless. These pieces took me to somewhere I have never traveled on the wings of a goddess. She informs, scolds, gives warnings, and inspires action. She talks about books she's written and books others have written. She speaks with authority and humility. I listen with awe and gratitude.
Spellbound! By the end of the first 2 or 3 pages, this novel of a Tibetan family fleeing from the Chinese army of occupation had me totally in its grip. I wanted to know more about the main characters and the minor ones; more about the country of the snow-capped Himalayas and its people. So well-written and insightful was this story, so movingly did the author combine humor, ethical dilemmas, and unpredictable plot twists, that it was nearly impossible to put it down until I'd reached the end.
The husband, an aging pathologist, and his wife, whose family perished in the holocaust, are on holiday in a Spanish beach town. Their conversations could’ve been written by Aaron Sorkin or Nora Ephron. However, just before we meet them, we’re introduced to a freelance hitman who not only kills for a fee but takes great pride in his work. How these two storylines will cross is not immediately revealed, but we’re happy to wait since every page by this prize-winning author is such a pleasure to read.
The unforgettable characters in Ms. Roy’s novel span three generations. Like planets, asteroids and comets, they move on separate paths which, in time, inevitably cross, pulled to the center by the force of love of family, of truth, of beauty and, ultimately, by the force of romantic love. We would read this aloud to each other in the car, hardly able to wait for our next ride together while at the same time wishing the story would never end. The unforgettable characters in Ms. Roy’s novel span three generations. Like planets, asteroids and comets, they move on separate paths which, in time, inevitably cross, pulled to the center by the force of love of family, of truth, of beauty and, ultimately, by the force of romantic love. We read this aloud to each other in the car, hardly able to wait for our next ride together while at the same time wishing the story would never end.
Subtitled “An Essay on the Revival of America,” this is a short book modeled on pamphlets like Thomas Payne’s “Common Sense.” Packer doesn’t mess around but cuts to the core of what separates us Americans into rival clans and what it would take to break down the barriers between. He does this with wit by sharing personal experiences and brilliant insights. Packer’s writing is so relevant and moving that I went through The Last Best Hope non-stop -- well, almost, because there were times when I just had to pause, amazed at the impact of what I’d just read.