Would have been an easy 4 had it not been so lengthy, which I felt wasn’t needed. With the caveat that a major plot was dedicated, obviously, to war fiction, which I simply don’t get along with. The highest I’ve rated any war fiction or military fiction is 3 stars. It is incessantly monotonous, uninteresting, and highly derivative.

That said, if you like that kind of fiction, this is for you. I didn’t put this this down because the writing and craft was excellent. It has the dreaded multi timeline, also somewhat derivative, nowadays; but in this case structurally warranted. It goes into the “normal” hardships, which I’m sorry to minimize but at this point it is some of the most predictable characterizations and arcs in fiction today, as they suffer and are broken in immediate and long-term ways, directly correlating to future events in the book.

And, I might add, to arguably the central tension in the friendship slash courtship of two characters, in particular. War is suffering, home and abroad, etc.. as I said: it is a testament to the voice crafted here and the specificity and diction used that I stayed on. If you are at all interested in the premise of the book and the contemporary war fiction/historical romance drama aspects, I suggest you pick it up. It will almost certainly be a highlight of the year for you.

Interesting concept. Short and sweet. Some great interiority and moving interactions. I like that both characters seem inscrutable to the other and there’s a lot of loss of communication between blank spaces when they don’t articulate something that characters in a novel ordinarily would.

And, so, is this a novel? A memoir? Autofiction? It depends on how much we can trust the narrator, who breaks the fourth wall to discuss the last chapter especially, saying he can’t figure out how to end the story and why he’s writing the chapter, but then that becomes a diegetic statement within a very self aware novel. Constantly using other authors or books as shorthand to create the illusion of connective tissue and express what he thinks or feels. Then attempts to wrap up the main tension without really providing tension.

It’s a neat thought experiment that doesn’t always work, for me. Precisely because it is so overt in its illusions to other works. I’d rather it be an homage or parallel it directly without constantly name dropping, and the reader either picks it up, or they don’t. Using it to not do the normal work of a novel, and sort of eliding that fact by construing it as a possible memoir or Autofiction, just feels quite shallow when interrogated. And that’s without even discussing the 2nd person narration, ostensibly placing himself as the narrator sometimes, or else placing You in for the name of the woman. Again. Interesting but shallow. And somewhat inconsistent.

Well worth a read, I imagine it’s something really fascinating to consume and not drill into, critique wise. But I consumed it via audiobook on a drive, and the time between the sittings made me think about what I’d consumed, and yeah, it’s great at keeping the attention of the reader and sort of building a bond with these somewhat esoteric references. But I’d rather there be substance there, as mentioned.

That said: He is absolutely right about Lost in Translation. That movie is straight trash for many reasons.

This is very short parable followed by some thoughts on the three collaborators who brought it together. I liked that it doesn’t center one particular lens. There are stories about what the hummingbird means to many peoples, across the globe. It’s probably more profound when originally published - as anyone who is aware of or “believes in” the reality of the climate crisis probably has internalized this message already, and those that haven’t never will.

But it’s still a worthy read. Quick. Gets it’s message across. Stunningly gorgeous artwork. Executes what it is trying to do perfectly well.

Loved the art, which will be polarizing. It’s very artistic, abstract and almost gothic; so very little colour. I also thought they managed to get across a lot in such a short story about a young adult who finds a cat, leading her to found objects of missing indigenous women like her. It’s a short story meant to communicate two things (imo): That people be aware of the disproportionate rating of indigenous women going missing and are subject to violent crimes, and to provide more than bleak despair, despite the trappings of the art. I thought it was a great story and the contrast between art and plot was highly effective.

Malaise. I’ve been trying to finger exactly what this recreated that was at once disaffecting… and oddly relatable and captivating. Not much happens in this book. The plot is, two women move back home to the maritimes, each for a different reason. Both are rootless and they keep attempting to form some substance in their early 20s by way of breaking from old patterns or completely falling into them.

Interactions are Rooney level insightful and tinged with a similar perspicacity. Similarly, I found myself moving in similar patterns. I would be completely riveted to what was happened and feeling like the dialogue or a particular affection or movement was filled with such meaning as to divine something greater—and then I’d meander into listlessness as things became more ephemeral.

It’s really hard to rate this book. I can see why people love it and why people didn’t think it worked. But I felt like, for me, I liked that it was doing that to me. It feels intentional. It’s too well written for it to not be, to be honest. And I kind of like how… ballsy that is? It’s like something David Foster Wallace would do. This book is about boredom. Now I’m going to make you retreat into your brain a defence mechanism because I’m going to make you feel exactly as bored as this guy on an airplane, literally doing nothing.

This is like that. But with sadness. And yeah, I’m about it, apparently.

For a book about grief it sure doesn’t overstay it’s welcome. But also opaque to me, in a weird way, since it’s also gripping on audio. I like sad things usually, and I liked the concept of this book quite a bit. I suspect it might be a bit disappointing because of how hyped this is for me.

I have had it recommended to me about 25 times. And I rate based on expectations. 3 being, it met my expectations, which is hard to do when it’s so highly recommended. But also felt a bit sad I didn’t connect with it more so I could be on the same train as the other friends, who absolutely adore it. The nice thing is that at two hours long I can easily revisit it at some point and perhaps like it more, having my expectations adjusted for that reading of it. We shall see.

I’m not sure I’ve read a book, especially in such short a text, despite it being 350 pages, the audiobook is 3 hours and change, that can communicate so much about people as ecology and community.

With sparse words and highly effective use of white space to give, sometimes just a sentence a much needed pause and breath. There’s a kind of weight to every page that feels like the author has actually weighed it as too heavy or too light and how much white space it needs between this vignette or fragmentation or whatever you’d like to call it, to “make the point” of it especially keen.

We follow 7 different people in a atemporal manner and the most striking things to me is how much it reinforces it’s non-western-centric gaze while situating a few of the character in western culture. You would think the urban environment would radically alter the characterization of a character in some kind of dichotomy, but it, again, simply reinforces the larger community. Because even in the urban, where nature is harder to find, sure, there is obviously still natural elements, captured in raccoons or the local park. It can’t ever be stamped out, though it is always and forever classified as inferior by the legitimately sociopathic institutions western society, and so we all, to some degree, must worship.

As it goes on this social construction that delineates the differences between people and animals and trees, and basically anything of nature—simply isn’t even recognized as a notion to confront. It is so baseless it has no air. Instead we see how the people perceive no differences, and either does nature. In many ways, all natural aspects of people are Trees or Geese or Raccoons. Just because we have chosen not to internalize the natural in our socio-political constructs does not mean that others have.

Many indigenous languages don’t distinguish between gender and the words that are synonymous have a great deal more sense than English and other languages. And so the people here and they, just as the trees and the raccoons, and so on. I was very happy to see the Dene given some space, with those correlations reinforcing aspects of this story telegraphing that this is outside the prescriptive, western bounds of how to tell story. How to talk about a person or a people or a character. How to communicate what is intrinsic and fundamental to them. And how long that “needs” to take. Just a stunning work. I have no idea why this wasn’t on more Canadian prize lists. It better be on the next Canada Reads, I will say that.

I simultaneously agree with, and see what is being communicated to the reader about immigration, assimilation, micro aggressions, racism; essentially negotiating every single situation at a level removed from personhood in an effort to not feel your identity is as violated when the inevitable penetration of gaze, and other types of encroachment, move in skin-to-skin… And still, as a reader, be absolutely, constantly aware of how unenjoyable the reading experience was because of that stylistic and structural choice.

Never being fully embodied and having every point filed down to the equivalent of round peg and square hole, see how they fit together? How messed up is it that this is that and that is this and when they fit they’re so poorly machined together they bump and scrape and require significant force to become one object and later disentangle!

I guess what I’m saying is: Every point in a solipsistic narrative feels like it’s too transparent and self aware, because the only that feels real is the experience. That’s kind of the point of the Autofiction written as such; yet it is also disembodied and intelligent in its pointing out of caricatures being so tired they dwell in every moment of life. Yet that’s surrealism, isn’t it?

Why blunt poignant points and sometimes brilliant specificity and description? The point of the disassociation doesn’t feel as if it’s being made nearly as well because of the incongruent nature of the vignettes. Rather than balance it is far weighted to one side. The Point Being Made. I get it. My god, how could you not? There’s nothing as interesting as hammer presented while we stare at a nail for 100 pages.

A valuable and unflinching recounting of a Métis life. Effective in its communication of just how hard it is to be “alright” in poverty, let alone also navigating outright racism. Canada similarly shares the delusion of success by picking yourself up by your bootstraps, completely ignoring systemic issues. To say Campbell pushed through adverse circumstances would be a gross minimization of the obstacles.

Even more infuriating is that things haven’t changed all that much. Especially when she talks about Lethbridge, a town that benefits from indigenous money, yet condemns the population. Absolutely still the case. The country and certainly Alberta has not done better, nor even educated people on these matters such that people understand any of the issues central to indigenous people, but probably even more so with the Métis.

The only reason this wasn’t five stars from me was because the authors delivery of her book was actually not great on audio, and only accented the repetitive sentence construction and robbed the recounting of emotion, ironically; a sadly very common thing that occurs when authors narrate their own work. On the one hand, I am obviously glad they’ve been paid (they better have been) to perform the narration. On the other, oratory is a skill most people do not have.

Other than the worldbuilding, which was really cool, and the stand out character work, the voice made it difficult to pay attention to via audio. It was not engaging nor was it paced very well. I did struggle through because of the characters and things do, eventually, get going. It took almost half the book to do get interesting. Might be a mix of sort of generic contemporary voice construction mixed with the narration. Seems like really inactive verbiage is becoming a staple of YA these days. Hope that changes.