The portrayal of family and mental illness in Imagine Me Gone

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What I read

Imagine Me Gone by Adam Haslett

What it’s about

Margaret learns about John’s depression before she marries him, but it doesn’t keep her from wanting to build a life with him. They have three children, one of whom experiences another serious mental illness. Imagine Me Gone follows the family of five over several decades, with chapters alternating between the perspectives of each family member.

This novel beautifully portrays a family who not only cares about each other but who care for each other. While the story illustrates how mental illness affects a family, it also explores the love, loyalty and devotion in various relationships.

Why I picked it up

I can’t remember where I first heard about Imagine Me Gone, but I read about it several times before I stumbled across a copy in the bookstore. There was something about the white cover and the missing letters that caught my eye. Still, it took a few more bookstore visits before I bought the novel.

The subject of mental illness appealed to me, and I do enjoy books that explore familial relationships. But I hesitated because this type of subject matter is something so many writers could get wrong, and I suppose I also thought the book could be too dark. But earlier this month, I couldn’t resist its appeal and I bought a copy.

What I liked about it

Haslett’s prose is stunning. As with Donna Tartt’s The Goldfinch, Imagine Me Gone moves at a pace that made it almost impossible for me to put down, and yet it also made me want to reread sentences or paragraphs because of the beautiful wording.

I was impressed with how Haslett managed to write about complicated subject matter and complicated feelings without making it feel complicated to read. He smartly inserts humour into the story that helps with this.

Haslett also does a great job of giving each of the family members their own distinct voice. The inner thoughts and feelings of each of the five family members is captured brilliantly.

This is such an honest book. It never felt over-written, exaggerated or pretentious. I’m so glad I picked it up.

You’ll want to read it if…

This is definitely a book for fans of literary fiction. It’s a particularly good choice if you like novels that move between perspectives of several characters. And if you enjoy stories that examine family dynamics or sibling relationships, you should read this book.

Recommended refreshments

I read most of this book on one very cold December afternoon. Part of that afternoon was spent inside a cozy cafe with a mug of hot chocolate. I highly recommend this experience for anyone reading Imagine Me Gone.

Homegoing: an impressive debut

20161111_092100What I read

Homegoing by Yaa Gyasi

What it’s about

Homegoing opens in Ghana in the mid-18th century and tells the stories of two half-sisters, who never meet, and follows the lineage of each sister up to present day. Each chapter serves as a window into the lives of one of the sisters’ descendants.

The book begins with a chapter for each of the sisters. Effia is forced to marry a British slaver, and Esi is sold into slavery. Subsequent chapters alternate between Effia’s and Esi’s family lines and compare and contrast the lives of the characters in Ghana and in America.

Why I picked it up

I suggested this title to my book club, and the group thought it would be a good choice, so we read it. I’m not sure where I first heard of Homegoing. I only know that I read about it online in a few different places before I suggested it to our book club. I liked the premise, of following the lineage of the sisters over time. I happily purchased a copy from my favourite bookstore.

What I liked about it

In general, I liked the structure of this book. I loved the interconnectedness of the stories, and how oftentimes the characters from past chapters would show up as secondary characters in later chapters. I liked following the families through generations, and seeing the connections between characters who never met.

But while I liked the structure, it did leave me with a couple of frustrations. At times it was hard to keep track of how the characters were connected. (A family tree at the front of the book helped with this, and I was flipping back to it quite a bit.) My other frustration was that there were times when I wanted to stay with a character or story a bit more than Gyasi allowed–not because it felt like she had moved on too quickly, but because she did such a good job with them.

The story I was most captivated with while I read the book, and that stands out to me the most now upon reflection, is the story of H., a convict worker in a coal mine in the south. But each chapter is there for a reason, addressing themes of colonization, enslavement, racism and identity, to name a few.

You’ll want to read it if…

You should read Homegoing if you like historical fiction (or history) and/or novels-in-stories. It’s also a good choice if you’re a fan of family sagas.

It’s not really a good choice if you’re looking for something light. I’m not just referring to serious themes that are addressed. There’s some work involved in keeping the characters straight. It’s also maybe not the best choice if you really want to spend time with a single character and watch them develop over time.

Recommended refreshments

Our book club talked about Homegoing with some red wine and cheese on hand. I don’t know if the refreshments had anything to do with how the meeting went, but we did have some interesting conversation. And, really, wine and cheese is often a good idea.

4 ways fiction can help you get through the darkness 

20161120_162817We’ve entered a very dark time of year, and I mean that literally. Please don’t shoot the messenger, but we’ve got another month to endure before it (slowly) starts getting lighter in the evenings again.

Whether or not you are someone whose mood and well-being are affected by seasonal changes, we all experience figurative darkness at some point. I won’t suggest there is an easy fix for emotional and mental troubles, but a good book can help us navigate through difficult times, or provide a bit of comfort.

So even though you might want to hibernate over the next few months, I strongly suggest you first make your way to your local library and/or bookstore and stock up.

Here are a few ways reading fiction can help you through you a rough time.

It provides emotional support

This is like having a good friend to lean on/cry to. The friend in this case just happens to be fictional. Reading about characters who are experiencing an issue or a feeling that you are can help you realize you’re not the only one going through that. Also, it can be helpful to have an author articulate things you are feeling but don’t know how to put into words.

It can offer potential solutions

You might want more than empathy when reading about a character with an experience familiar to your own. You might want to see what you can do to better your situation. This works particularly well if you’re dealing with a practical dilemma. In this case, you read to see how others have handled situations like yours and consider whether that might work for you.

It helps you consider the experiences of others

You might find it useful to take some of the energy you’ve invested in mulling over your own problems and transfer it to over to think about someone else’s. It gives you a bit of a break from your own troubles, and it can feel good to think and care about another person (even if they are fictional).

 It will entertain you

This seems simple and obvious, but we can put a lot of pressure on the fiction we read. With any kind of art, we might expect it to teach us something, show a different viewpoint or even cause us to have some sort of epiphany. But reading fiction is also important for the fact that it’s entertaining. As human beings, we enjoy stories. A good story might make us laugh, or keep us in suspense, or transport us into another world. Good stories are entertaining. They give us joy. And that might be enough of a reason to get cozy with a stack of books that will keep us busy even after we’ve caught a glimpse of the light.

The Magnificent Six and the 2016 Giller Prize

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Five of the six 2016 Giller Prize finalists (the sixth is behind that man!). From L-R, Emma Donoghue, Catherine Leroux, Zoe Whittall, Madeleine Thien, Mona Awad and the man blocking Gary Barwin.

How normal is it for a reader to get this excited about a literary prize? Because, truthfully, I haven’t really experienced this in the past. But tomorrow the winner of the 2016 Giller Prize will be announced, and I can’t wait to find out who wins.

I’ve read three of the six shortlisted titles (read my reviews of Mona Awad’s 13 Ways of Looking at a Fat Girl, Emma Donoghue’s The Wonder and Zoe Whittall’s The Best Kind of People), and all three are incredible books. But the reason I picked up each of these titles wasn’t because they made the shortlist. I don’t think I’ve ever read a book just because it was nominated for, or won, a prize. But when books are nominated, they obviously get some more publicity, so I’m more likely to hear about it. And no matter how I find out about a book, if it grabs me, I’ll read it.

Today I attended the Giller Prize Between the Pages event at Koerner Hall in Toronto. The six finalists read from their nominated books and discussed their work. After today, I wouldn’t be surprised if I pick up the three shortlisted titles I haven’t yet read (Gary Barwin’s Yiddish for Pirates, Catherine LeRoux’s The Party Wall and Madeleine Thien’s Do Not Say We Have Nothing). They all sound like great books.

The discussion portion of the event (moderated by actor and director Albert Schultz) was fun and insightful. I love hearing writers talk about writing. When Schultz asked the group if they were nervous, Donoghue answered that it’s easier now that the authors have spent some time together and have gotten to know each other. They approach these things “like a gang.” A gang of authors–what a beautiful idea.

Tomorrow should be a long day for the Giller Prize jury, as that’s when they will choose the winner. I’ve read only half of the shortlisted titles, and it would be difficult for me to pick from those three. I don’t imagine it will be easy for them to decide.

Watch it all go down tomorrow at 9 p.m. on CBC Television or via live stream on CBC Books…and read the books written by this wonderful gang of authors, the Magnificent Six.

Looking at Mona Awad’s first novel

20161023_200816What I read

13 Ways of Looking At a Fat Girl by Mona Awad

What it’s about

Set in Misery Saga (Mississauga, Ontario), this book follows Lizzie (aka Liz, Beth, Elizabeth) through her teenage years to adulthood as she struggles with her weight. We get thirteen different stories, thirteen glimpses of Lizzie at a different stage in her life, that explore her relationship with her body, her friends and her mother. We see Lizzie as a fat girl and then as a woman who has succeeded in losing the weight but who continues to struggle with how she sees food and her body. This book explores themes of body image, girlhood and relationships of all different kinds.

Why I picked it up

While I haven’t been making a conscious effort to read the titles on this year’s Giller Prize shortlist, this is the third of the six titles I’ve read. But I’ve actually wanted to read this book for a while. As I’ve mentioned before on this blog, I really enjoy coming-of-age stories, and I’ve also been reading a lot of Canadian literature this year. I’ll also admit that the allusion in this title to Wallace Stevens’ poem “Thirteen Ways of Looking at a Blackbird” caught my attention. Anyway, after being on my TBR list for several months, I picked up a copy a few weeks ago.

What I liked about it

The structure. This novel composed of thirteen interconnected stories works very well. Each piece works as a standalone story, offering profound moments in Lizzie’s life. Reading them together as a novel provides us with a strong sense of Lizzie throughout her life, having each story build on the next, letting us see how each of these moments affects her later in life.

Awad has done an excellent job with voice and tone in this book, too. Lizzie is relatable in all thirteen stories, as a teen and as an adult. And while there is humour in this book and plenty of funny moments, Awad also doesn’t hold back, confronting some serious subject matter that can at times be uncomfortable.

You’ll want to read it if…

Fans of short stories or lovers or coming-of-age tales will like this one. It’s even better if you like both of those genres.

Recommended refreshments

It will come as no surprise that food is mentioned  a lot in this book. What immediately comes to mind is all the salad mentioned in this book, but it hasn’t made me crave any of it. I can also strongly see Lizzie’s French fries served with ketchup and mayonnaise, but I don’t find that image very appetizing. But the squares of dark chocolate Lizzie allows herself do sound good. So I recommend a bit of chocolate…and, of course, a cup of tea.