Tag Archives: Giller prize

September 5, 2012 · 4:18 am

The Sisters Brothers: Against my (terrible) instincts

                I heard Patrick de Witt read from *The Sisters Brothers* in Hamilton last year, and the book excerpt – and the reading – was brilliant. The novel won the Governor General’s Award and the Writers Trust. It was shortlisted for the Giller and the Booker. N. told me to read it, so did J. and I. (in short all my most trusted recommenders). Yet it took being stranded in the airport with nothing to read – a battery dead on an ereader at the end of a vacation is a sure testament to the staying power of print – before I finally sat down (trapped on a plane) to read it.

Why my resistance? When the book is SO FUCKING GOOD? 

I don’t know. I blame my disinterest in cowboys (even though I loved True Grit, The Englishman’s Boy and Lightening) (I think this means I’m not *actually* disinterested in cowboys so much as I *think* I should be disinterested in cowboys). I blame the title for making me think it was going to be about some boring sister and her brothers (sigh). Maybe I blame my own stand-off-ish-ness to historical fiction post-dissertation? Yeah, maybe that (in fact I think this is the secret of the life post thesis – or maybe not secret, but I’d never heard it talked about – and that is that when you finish four years of thinking about a particular genre almost exclusively, by the end of those four years you want absolutely nothing to do with that genre Ever Again even if it also happens to be your *favourite* genre. What a bind). 

So anyway. I was wrong to wait this long. I should have read this the day it came out because (let me say it again) it is so. good. It’s dark, and funny, and features incredibly well developed characters, it asks questions about morality, will and choice, duty and what it means to be a gentle, man. It is really very, very good.

So yeah, sorry to N. and J. and I. I should have listened to you. My favourite part? Calling N. to tell him to go out and get the book Right Away and having him sigh and remind me that he recommended it to me months ago (he’s so good to put up with me).

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Filed under Booker Prize, Canadian Literature, Erin's Favourite Books, Fiction, Giller prize, Governor Generals, Historical Fiction, Prize Winner

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September 13, 2011 · 11:21 pm

The Lost Highway: the half-way through switch (!)

       When I started reading David Adam Richards’ The Lost Highway I hated it. It was Crime and Punishment all over again, but set in the Maritimes and populated by poor Francaphones instead of poor Russians. Instead of murder for money, murder for a lottery ticket. The same obsessive hand wringing, the same excessive meditation on should-I, shouldn’t-I.

Until! Midway through the book Richards’ must have realized (or perhaps his editor) that a novel can only go so long without a plot event, and decided to introduce the detective, Markus Paul, and the narrative takes. off. I don’t mean just in plot events (in fact they remain sparse until the last twenty odd pages), but Markus’ observations about the outside world, about character behaviour and motivation counterbalance Adam’s obsessive internalization. Markus brings clarity to the moral question of the novel – how do we justify our action and the character question how do single decisions alter whole lives, whole sense of self – by taking action.

I almost gave up on this one, and I’m delighted that I didn’t. The suspense of the last fifty pages – both in terms of what happens and in terms of what kind of decision will Adam make (the right choice? what is the right choice?) is brilliant. You might argue with me that this suspense could not have been built without the preceding 400 pages of hand wringing, and I’d say you’re wrong. The hand-wringing is only terrible when it lacks the counterpoint of considered, measured action. The success of the psychological drama in this novel is its balance in minor, yet brilliant, action. My only regret is that the first third of the book lacks this balance, and is something painful to read as a result. Is the payoff worth it? It’s a mystery! (ha! get it? spies and detectives category? it’s a mystery? time to sign-off…)

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Filed under 100 Books of 2011, Canadian Literature, Fiction, Mystery, Prize Winner

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