Ivan E. Coyote: Bow Grip, Close to Spider Man – I fall in love

I didn’t want to read Bow River. It had a tough spine, and I hate books with a tough spine. But it was a Christmas gift from my brother, and I like to read books that are given to me so I can thank the person and mean it. So I read it. And I owe my brother. Owe him something awesome, because Ivan E. Coyote hooked me from page one and held me the whole way through, and has me still I think.

Bow River, Coyote’s first novel, introduces the reader to Joey a year after his wife has left him for another woman. He is forced to take a vacation because his mother is threatening him with Prozac and he has a car that belongs to another man and he needs to return it. The novel covers a week in Joey’s life, and a week is not – not nearly – enough. He is a character so endearing and so honest that I’ve spent the last few days wondering whether by moving to a small town in Alberta I might find my own Joey. And it’s not just him! The characters that surround him are delightful and so perfectly drawn that I could imagine both exactly who they are and somehow still think of a dozen people they remind me of.

Let me now say something about short stories. I don’t read short stories. Not unless I have to. But I put down Bow River and immediately picked up Coyote’s 2000 collection, Close to Spider Man. My problem with short stories is that you just get a snippet. Just a little tease of a character or a plot, and then you’re cut off. I fall in love in that I really and truly care about well written characters, but with short stories I’m constantly being separated from the characters I have been introduced to. Happily, Coyote’s collection follows one woman and uses one (more or less) consistent narrative voice. I have every intention of going to the library tomorrow to check out the remaining three collections. Those I suppose I’d be wise to ration them, as there’s a good chance I’ll be sulky and sad when my available Coyote stock disappears. Or maybe I’ll take a break, read something else, and just let these two stunning works roll around in my head for awhile. In any event, let’s hope my string of excellent reads continues.

Leave a comment

Filed under Canadian Literature, Erin's Favourite Books, Fiction, Short Stories

The Forest of Hands and Teeth: Choices

The Forest of Hands and Teeth has a compelling opening: zombies, sacrifice, and the introduction of the central preoccupation of the novel, choice. The opening sequence also gestures to the mysteries of the novel: the role of the Sisterhood and the possibility of a world beyond the forest.

The zombies are never mysterious. Their existence is explained as the result of a disease only affecting humans that spread many generations ago; their ‘final’ deaths are possible only by decapitation. The zombies, or the ‘Unconsecrated,’ function as a symbol for the barriers that keep individuals from pursuing ambitions or desires, as catalysts for characters to make decisions (to stay behind the fences? to kill a loved one if they are infected? to kill the self? to settle rather than risk infection?) and to a much lesser degree, as provocateurs, inviting the question of what it means to be human (memory? speech? empathy? selflessness?).

The end of the narrative leaves the reader with little question that Mary’s decision has been the right one, and that she considers her sacrifices – though difficult – worthwhile. I had hoped for a more complex conclusion, one that might leave Mary and the reader with more to consider. As it is, the narrative asks the question: is your life and the life of everyone you love worth sacrificing in order to prove the existence of ‘the beyond’ (here, an obviously Christian ‘beyond’ of baptism, confession and redemption) and, frustratingly, answers the question.

Leave a comment

Filed under Fiction, Young Adult Fiction

Gods Behaving Badly: Funny

I almost wish I had more to say about God behaving Badly, but I don’t suppose more needs to be said: the book is funny, and so, enjoyable.

Turns out I do have more to say: a book can be only funny and still be worth reading. While humor usually points out some more “serious” truth (in this case that belief can be powerful), I think humor for its own sake makes this book worthwhile (particularly because the more “serious” message of the book is both obvious and left to the final two pages).

My principal complaint with the novel, then, is not its frivolity, but its insistence on pointing out who each of the Greeks gods are: “Ares, God of War, is busy causing war in the middle east,” or Aphrodite, Goddess of Beauty, is beautiful.” It’s an affront to my intelligence to tell me who each of the Greek gods and goddess are, and even if I didn’t know (and still picked up the book), I’d have been happier looking the list of gods up on an online encyclopedia or (heaven forbid – ha!) in a book.

Leave a comment

Filed under Fiction, Funny

Plainsong: I want to be a cowboy

Reading Plainsong immediately after Hunting and Gathering invites comparisons between the two: both novels begin with seemingly unconnected characters who, as the narrative progresses, become intimately intertwined in the lives of one another; both novels are unexpectedly hopeful, despite plot events that might suggest misery (in Plainsong: a seventeen year old pregnant, a depressed mother who cannot care for her two young boys, a delinquent youth who tortures the same young boys); both novels bring together exceptionally lonely people to suggest that loneliness can be overcome by reaching out to others. Continue reading

Leave a comment

Filed under American literature, Bestseller, Fiction