I didn't write a book post last week, so I've got several to tell you about this week.
Etna is an inventive and unusual story, told from the perspective of a former military dog trying to find his way home after years of war. Having survived so much, Etna sets out across a devastated landscape in the hope of finding the place from which he was taken as a young dog. Along the way, he encounters people and animals who, like him, are struggling to make sense of a world that has changed beyond recognition.
I found it quite sad to think of Etna carrying the weight of so many changes and losses, with so little understanding of why his life has become what it is. His journey is as much about searching for a sense of belonging as it is about finding a physical home. Even when the fighting has stopped, the consequences of war remain, and trust and security are difficult to recover.
Paul Yoon has come up with a fresh and compelling way to explore the aftermath of war, displacement, and maybe the possibility of hope. There is something particularly affecting about seeing the human world through Etna's eyes, as he tries to navigate circumstances he cannot fully understand. Although I appreciated the originality of the premise and the questions it raises about home and starting over, I found the story's sadness more affecting than any hopeful message.
An imaginative, quietly moving novel, though not always an easy one to read. This was 3.5 stars for me.
Poor Kitty arrives at her new home hoping for a fresh start, only to discover that the previous cat, Licorice, seems to have left his mark on absolutely everything. Between the lingering scent, Duchess the parrot’s reminders that she’s merely a replacement, and the unsettling feeling that Licorice’s presence might be more than a memory, Kitty has a lot to contend with. The parallels with Rebecca are fun to recognize, even as the story takes on a life of its own through its animal characters.
In the first half of the novel, we learn that our main character, Batter Gray, was named after a family dog whose escapades were recounted in reverent tones throughout his childhood by his mother, Rainey. Rainey is a type designer with an extensive knowledge of typography, but it was her stories about Batter the dog, which she told to Batter her son, that made her my favorite character. I loved this wonderfully eccentric touch and the way Garmus uses it to establish the family's particular brand of oddness.
I listened to the audiobook, and while I enjoyed the experience, I suspect I missed some of the nuances and connections along the way. There are so many threads, tangents, and moving pieces that the story occasionally bogs down under the weight of its own cleverness. I sometimes struggled to keep track of everything that was happening and how all the pieces fit together.
Still, Garmus has a lively imagination, and there is plenty here to entertain and surprise. The characters are an eccentric bunch, the motives behind their actions aren't always what they seem, and eventually the various threads find their resolution.
"Poetry is problematic. First, it’s not easy. It forces you to think and sometimes thinking hurts. Also, poetry can make you feel stupid, like you don’t get it. And if you do get it, then it’s only because it just revealed something about yourself that you were hoping to keep hidden."
Now I'd love to know what you are reading!



I was puzzled about why you were reading "Licorice," but now I understand! That's certainly an interesting way to retell a story! I'm happy to read your good review of Bonnie Garmus's new book. I enjoyed "Lessons in Chemistry" (though I had some quibbles with it), and I'm glad to hear she's not a one-hit wonder. I finished "The Bookbinder's Secret" yesterday, so now I'm ready to restart the ARC of the sequel.
ReplyDeleteWhat a curious reading week, Bonny! The new Bonnie Garmus novel sounds fascinating! (and I am still safely tucked away in Three Pines while the Gamache team works out the mystery!)
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