Tag Archives: friendship

The Rachel Incident: Friendship (and bodies)

I’ve never been a casual friend. Ask them and they’ll tell you I am a friend of intensity. If you are wondering what a friend of intensity is, I recommend you to Caroline O’Donoghue’s The Rachel Incident where you’ll follow Rachel and James (and then another James) through a period of Great Friendship Intensity. When Rachel and James meet it isn’t immediately obvious they will be lifelong friends, but then it happens they live together and the interweaving of lives takes over.

I think the heart of this book wants to be about reproductive rights (in Ireland, or wherever, maybe), power in relationships, secrecy and sexual identity, and bodies. But while the thematic heart might want to be that – maybe to be Big and Important – I think in the end this is a book about friendship. About how friendships may form through routine and proximity, but are made lasting through crisis or vulnerability or revelation. That you can maintain a not-so-intense friendship for decades just by playing on the same trivia team, but all it takes is one night of heart opening to make the person BFF (and yes, I’m aware this is the argument Brene Brown and her adherents are forever reminding me). Of course in The Rachel Incident this theory is tested by betrayal, by distance, by loss – and continues to make the argument that when you know someone and let yourself be known, these can all be overcome.

In the end it’s not a book that really sticks with me, and I didn’t find myself much moved by any of it, but it did remind me of all my forever friends and how they came to be that through the outrageous courage of saying here I am as all of me. Or sometimes through my relentless refusal to leave them alone. Perhaps there could be a rewrite of this one where vulnerability is replaced with persistence. Either way – it’s a gentle, light and engaging read, if not entirely memorable.

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Filed under Book I'll Forget I Read, Fiction

Brother: You don’t win prizes for bad writing. (Most of the time)

David Chariandry’s Brother follows two brothers – Michael and Francis – and their experiences growing up in Toronto as young, black men. The story weaves two time lines: the present in which Michael and his mother grieve the death of Francis, and the years and then weeks leading up to his death. The effect of the woven time is to have the reader at once certain of the outcome and effect, and unsure about the cause. That’s not true. The cause of Francis’s death is as much about context and systematic racism (through education, housing, transit and policing) as it is about the single act that kills him. The reader feels certain – well before knowing what exactly killed him – that if Francis was born white he wouldn’t have died.

It’s an exquisitely written novel. Quotidian scenes speak for whole years; individual examples gesture to shared experiences. With precise language and sharp detail, the writing evokes setting and atmosphere without straying into distracting description or belabored scene-setting.

While it is a novel principally interested in masculinity, in its characterization of their mother the story proves capacious in its exploration of the intersection of gender and class and race.

I’ve made it sound like a bleak read. And in some ways it is, and that’s a good reason to read it, too. But through the distress and grief and anger there are also scenes and moments of connection, community and great care. And other alliterative ‘c’ words. Not that a story needs to balance sadness with hope. Just that this novel does. And I hope you read it.

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Filed under Canadian Literature, Fiction, Giller prize, Prize Winner

Autumn: It’s okay to have feelings. I hope.

Ali Smith writes very, very good novels, and very good ones and then this one. Autumn is, in my fanciful hierarchy of good, very, very, very good. Mark that as three ‘very’s’. It has gorgeous writing and a lyrical tone and pacing that wraps you up and whisks you away without you realizing it. Eventually you look up and realize you’ve been reading for an hour and it’s time to X whatever chore your life demands you do instead of reading. Continue reading

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Filed under British literature, Fiction, Prize Winner

The Rosie Project: What to read while the world burns

I’m comfortable with the ‘compulsively readable’ label oft attached to  Graeme Simsion’s The Rosie Project. Originally envisioned as a screenplay, the novel has cinematic pacing and a powerful sense of scene (including here both a sense of the setting and a well-defined plot focus for a particular chapter). Taken together with the warm and lighthearted romance plot and you have yourself a perfect stay-up-late, read-on-the-beach, pass-the-time-while-waiting-for____ kind of novel. There is much to enjoy in the characterization of Rosie and Don, the certainty of the romance genre’s happily ever after and the unapologetically optimistic take on the world and the ability for individuals to do right. Continue reading

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Filed under Bestseller, Fiction, Funny