The Call by Yannick Murphy: The always interesting author of
Here They Come and
Signed, Mata Hari returns with a novel that whips up a worldview from a rather quirky set of limitations: namely, the call logs that a veterinarian maintains as his son is unexpectedly put into a coma and an unforgiving economy denies him work. What emerges is a surprisingly optimistic, often funny, and very moving account on how one family uses acceptance and forgiveness as a way to atone for hard knocks. (
Bat Segundo interview with Murphy)
Birds of Paradise by Diana Abu-Jaber: Forget Franzen and Eugenides. If you're looking for a social novel that counts, Diana Abu-Jaber is the author you're looking for. Building from the free-form exploration of consciousness and identity in
Crescent and the gripping procedural structure of
Origin, Abu-Jaber's latest novel is her finest, equally fluent with gutterpunk culture and smarmy real estate men. It has been suggested by
The Washington Post's Ron Charles that you will likely gain some pounds while reading this novel. This is certainly true. Abu-Jaber's description of food is so precise that it often made me want to do more cooking. But I very much admired the way in which Abu-Jaber presents
all her characters as unwitting victims of rough capitalism, which permits them some dignity even as they perform terrible acts.
The Last of the Live Nude Girls by Sheila McClear: This memoir isn't so much about the decline of the Times Square peepshow, as it is about one young woman's efforts to pull herself up by by her bootstraps when presented with few economic options. Filled with self-introspective candor and a quiet dignity, McClear's story is one that might befall any of us in these volatile times. While McClear does get back on her feet, her book leads one contemplating the terrible fates of other young women now moving to New York and falling into deadlier vocations. (
Bat Segundo interview with McClear)
counting down to april 11 (doubly foolish?).
Dear Ed,
I hate you.
Sincerely,
Abigail
(But seriously, my experience with Mitchell has been that he tends to write the same book over and over again – Ghostwritten read like a dress rehearsal for Cloud Atlas. Now, Mitchell is a fantastic writer and the book he keeps writing is a fantastic one, so I don’t mind, but I have to confess to a certain amount of trepidation about BSG, quite apart from the standard trepidation I’d feel about reading any follow-up to a book I’d loved as much as CA.
Which is not to say that I don’t hate you.)
I would love to get my hands on that. Seriously, you’ve got so many books to review; why not unload this one on me? You can see on Quarterly Conversation that me likes reviewing books.
Please?
Y’all won’t want it after Ed’s had his way with it . . . if you know what I mean.
I also had a galley copy of this given to me some months ago and I have to say it’s not that great. I’d be interested in hearing what others think, but I think it’s the first novel that sat in his drawer while he learned how to write properly. I found it cliched and dull.
But that might be (and probably is) just me.
I’m very sceptical though when he claims its the best thing he’s written. He may want to have a rethink.
Someone above wrote: “….my experience with Mitchell has been that he tends to write the same book over and over again.”
Be prepared, then. This is a total new kind of book from Mitchell and it’s WON.DER.FULL. You won’t be able to put it down, and I can’t tell you how I got my galley copy either, but this book is a charm. For me, his best yet!