thebacklistborrower's Reviews (570)

This is a beautiful novel that seems as much a collection of short stories as anything else (of course, that is what Alice Munro is known for). But the vignettes that show Del growing from a child to a young woman perfectly frame what it is to be a girl and young woman, from innocent giggles over crushes and childish gossip, to a young woman learning to understand her sexuality in the way that young teenaged girls only know how do do: with a friend and equally balanced between scandal, disgust, excitement, and laughter. Her assorted relationships that come and go, with aunts, mothers, boarders, friends, and boyfriends (and flings) are so realistic but also flawed: after all, Del is a young woman forming her own opinions of people, and we know young people can be mean. In that way, too, the book forces reflection of our own youth and the follys we played into.

This book was a wonderful read, one that I could pick up and put down, sometimes one I couldn't put down (or couldn't pick up), that made me laugh at myself as much as Del. I'd recommend it to anybody.

What a trip! I'm glad that, like most of Canada, I was holed up from a storm that allowed me to pick this book up and not put it down until I finished.

This book was a page-turner that kept me on the edge of my seat, constantly wondering what was real, what was imagined, what was a story, and what would happen next. The similar-but-not-quite-familiar Atomic Standard Time and Canusa added an ominous overtone to the novel as you couldn't trust your own recollection to determine what global events would impact Debbie's life. I'd strongly recommend this book to sci-fi fans of all sorts looking for a thriller novel. Or, Welcome to Night Vale fans would also appreciate this book for its alternate atomic universe and the overall tone of the novel.

This book was on the long list of Canada Reads in 2020, so I also read it, asking myself "How does it bring Canada into Focus?"

A big player in the novel was the ShipCo business, manufacturing nuclear weapons and manipulating society by owning pretty much most of it, and polluting the environment without any repercussions (given the proximity to Niagra, the Superfund site "Love Canal" definitely crossed my mind at least once). Issues of womens rights, immigration, discrimination against people of colour, and labour rights also could be seen as issues raised by the book. The biggest Canadian issue we are facing today that could be explored though the book? The impact on industry in shaping the future (and destroying it). ShipCo is anti-labour, anti-environment (nuclear manufacturing creates jobs!), and supports anything that boosts its profits (i.e. nuclear war), regardless of the impact on people or the world at large. Sound familiar?
***

Very interesting novel, and a very easy read. Definitely worth a read but don't expect a cerebral examination of racism politics. The book also explores intersectional equality, featuring many women, people of minorities, and a disabled person.

WOW! Honestly it has been a really long time since I stayed up past my bedtime to read a book (these days I usually fall asleep if I try). But I whittled my sleep schedule down last night to after midnight (a big deal for me haha) to finish this book. Eden captures a fascinating cast of characters in this book -- Jared alone is a character I'll be thinking about for a long time. Very rarely do you have a character who so perfectly walks the line between selfishness and selflessness, especially in a teenaged character -- and that's just Jared. Each character had something new and unique about them that got them into your mind and wouldn't let them leave. ****
How does it bring Canada into Focus? (Some mild spoilers ahead)*** The book covers some indigenous issues, taking place during Idle No More -- not that Jared realizes that. His somewhat girlfriend is passionate about decolonization, but Jared never really gets it. The scenes bounce between town and res, and people living in the space between traditional culture and modern life. The magic that insidiously grows within the book, in my mind, can represent so many issues, but as history is on my mind right now, it seems particularly poignant. As Jared became older, more independent, and more exposed to Sarah and her decolonial ideas, as so did magic expose itself to him. If Jared had had access to his family and cultural history, how would have things been different for him? How would the this life, or even the events of the book been different? How many indigenous people are witches with access to this magic, but just can't access it? How does colonial life break or mask the connection?
****
Can't wait to hear @kaniehtiio and her defense of this book!

This book is a beautiful exploration of immigration, religion, queerness, and the intersection of each of them. Samra weaves a fascinating, beautiful, and heartbreaking story starting with her growth from a young Muslim girl living a traditional life, through moving to Canada and exploring independence, to coming out as a queer woman and her exploration of that, to finding herself back to religion as a queer woman. However, ultimately I found this was a story about friendship and family, and how vital chosen families can be for people who cannot find acceptance in their traditional families. As Samra says, "Being surrounded by great people isn't a fluke... Being surrounded by people who fuel you is intentional." While she ultimately finds herself back to her family, her chosen family are who help her become who she wants to become.

As a Canada Reads 2020 longlist, I think this book brings Canada into focus in a few ways: her dad, once a developer, cannot work and sinks into depression upon arriving in Canada. To this day, immigrants have challenges transferring their education and credentials into Canada. On the other hand, his wife, Samra's mother, is able to open a salon to help support the family.

I think what is also brought into focus is the importance of safe spaces to explore identity. In the book, these were queer communities in Canada, Japan, and the US that helped Samra learn about queerness, and meet people who supported her own identity exploration; or the queer-friendly Muslim community that allowed her to find her religion again without giving up her identity.

I loved this book which was full of beauty and acceptance. Some parts are heartbreaking, and sad, but the chosen family, and the community that Samra builds around her, constantly brings hope and happiness.

From the Ashes was an amazing story that was beautifully and sharply written. With parts of the books written with the help of eye witnesses, and paper trails to fill the gaps in his memory, it sometimes reads as a biography more than a memoir. But what makes it different when he wrote of times where he did have a strong sense of self and was able to write succinctly and emotionally of the needs, wants, and pains he experienced, it pulls the reader in and gets you rooting for him, and occasionally yelling at him to smarten up and do better. It’s the books strongest asset: its ability to make you feel like Jesse is a friend or relative who you are witnessing go through abuse, addiction, and incarceration, but also love, hopes for the future and sobriety. When he makes the final change to be the person who would later write the book, you can’t help but feel buoyed yourself as the changes he makes stick.

This book will take you through ALL the emotions. At times you’ll want to put the book down and not pick it up. At times you’ll yell at the book or want to smack Jesse straight. At times you won’t want to put it down at all. If you want that, this book is for you.

As this book is also a Canada Reads 2020 shortlisted book, its worth asking “How does the book bring Canada into focus?” What it brought into focus for me were all the public systems and resources that failed not only Jesse, but his family. But it also shows some successes, and could serve as reinforcement as to why public resources for people who are in poverty and or have addictions need more public support (and by extension, funding). I think I also couldn’t help but think about how people with addiction today face higher risks than Jesse did, as they run the risk of fentanyl, or worse, in their drugs. How many people have died who had the potential in them to create a better life for themselves, and the world, but didn’t have access to public health programs like safe injection sites and prescribed heroin which have been shown time and again to help and save people?

The term "like watching a train wreck" gets thrown around a lot, but this book made me literally feel like I was standing at the window of the Hazel, or maybe a corner table, and unable to look away as all these characters entered my life, and their pasts were painfully, and plainly laid out in front of me, and then be unable to look away as the tension between them is built moment by moment, and faster and faster, giving the impression of explosive charges ricocheting around a room. And all you can do is watch and wait for two to collide and set them all off.

This book is a hard read with a lot of very upsetting passages. I was upset with characters, angry with characters, made sad and frustrated by characters. Reading the book (or sometimes just thinking about it) made my chest feel tight, made my brain feel full of cotton balls, and made my heart race. But it was such. a. good. read. Coles masterfully builds each character, the Hazel, and the experience of being in Newfoundland so that you are helpless to the text and drawn in until you're done.