Review | Calling Dr. Laura, Nicole Georges

When Nicole Georges visits a psychic for her twenty-third birthday, she finds out that the father she’s always believed to be dead is actually alive. Now, having grown up in a family of secrets and lies, Nicole considers the need to confront her mother about two things: the identity of her father, and the fact that Nicole is gay. The back blurb compares Nicole Georges’ Calling Dr. Laura to Alison Bechdel’s Fun Home, and while Georges lacks Bechdel’s sly humour, she also doesn’t get bogged down by Bechdel’s philosophizing. The result is a straightforward, rather earnest, heartfelt narrative.

Georges highlights the difference between her adult life and her childhood memories through her drawings — her life in her twenties is sketched with realistic detail, while her flashbacks to her childhood are sketched in simple, stylized shapes such as a child might draw. This shift in style highlights the child Nicole’s innocence, and thereby emphasizes the pain such a figure must undergo, watching her mother being abused by various husbands. I especially love Georges’ use of this technique in a scene where the adult Nicole has a particularly devastating piece of information confirmed, and the character shifts back to the child version for two panels, before shifting back to adult mode.

The Dr. Laura in the title actually plays less of a role in the narrative than I expected. Pressured by her girlfriend to confront her mother, Nicole finally calls Dr. Laura Schlessinger for advice. The author has included bits from the actual transcript of their conversation in the memoir, and while the radio personality seemed harsh, it seemed to be the tough love Nicole needed.

Georges does a good job illustrating the atmosphere of stress and deceit in which she grew up. She relates incidents such as stress-related bowel irregularities that lead to an embarrassing situation with a friend, conspiring with her mother to skip school as long as her stepfather never found out, and having to call 911 when her stepfather tried to strangle her mother. As she later points out, even whens he discovered her biological father was still alive, her experience with fathers hasn’t given her much incentive to find him. She struggles not just with the fear of confronting her mother, which comes hand in hand with her coming out to her mother as well, but also with the fear of meeting her biological father. The simplicity of Georges’ narrative enhances the emotional impact of her decisions; she is thoughtful without becoming too introspective. While her tone felt at times too flippant, it’s an understandable way to cope with her fear, and adds realism to her narrative.

Calling Dr. Laura is a touching tale of growing up, of coming out and of trying to make sense of one’s family. The biggest emotional wallop is reserved for the end of the book. Like the rest of the book, it is heartfelt but rendered with understated precision. It’s telling that Nicole feels most free to talk about her concerns over the phone with a radio personality or over email with loved ones. The medium provides a comfortable layer of protection, yet what comes through most strongly is Nicole’s vulnerability. Calling Dr. Laura is a sweet, simple story, surprising in how much it can reveal through so little. Well done.

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Thank you to Thomas Allen Ltd for an ARC of this book in exchange for an honest review.

Review | The 100-Year-Old Man who Climbed Out the Window and Disappeared, Jonas Jonasson

9781443419109Jonas Jonasson’s The 100-Year-Old Man who Climbed Out the Window and Disappeared is about… Well, the title says it all, doesn’t it? Allan Karlson escapes the nursing home just before the party for his 100th birthday and, on a whim, steals a suitcase at the bus terminal. Unfortunately for him, the suitcase contains a lot of cash, and this leads to a hilarious, utterly absurd chase that involves a hot dog stand operator, an elephant and a lot of unexpected twists.

We also learn about Allan’s life before the nursing home. This is where the comparisons to Forrest Gump come in — like Forrest, Allan is involved in a wide range of historical events, meeting such historical figures as Mao Tse-Tung (and his wife!), Stalin, Kim Jong Il and several US presidents. Like Forrest, Allan is unaware of the massive influence of these figures on world politics, but unlike Forrest who really is an innocent, Allan is an apolitical explosives expert. He knows how to blow things up, and he doesn’t care how his skills are used. This isn’t meant to imply that he’s a cold-hearted man who sells his skills to the highest bidder, but rather that he mostly just wants to be left alone playing with his explosives, and yet the world just won’t leave him alone. Take for example this episode with an immigration officer:

And the more the immigration officer got out of Allan, the less fascistic the Swede seemed to be. He wasn’t a communist either. Or a national socialist. He was nothing at all, it would seem, other than an expert on explosives. As for the story of how he came to be on first-name terms with General Franco, it was so ridiculous that it had to be true — he could hardly have made it up.

Since he had no better ideas, the senior immigration officer arranged for Allan to be locked up for a couple of months. Unfortunately, the months turned into years, and the immigration boss mostly forgot about Allan, until one day he found himself discussing the case with his brother when they met at the family farm in Connecticut for Thanksgiving. [p. 102]

The novel is hilarious, but as seen in the passage above, Jonasson’s humour is dark, at times satiric, and at others even disturbing. Allan’s life is filled with misadventures and random streaks of good luck, and it’s mostly Allan’s nonchalance at everything that keeps the story humorous rather than tragic. Jonasson’s writing as well has a sharp bite — dramatic incidents are immediately undercut by quick quips and mundane things are inflated to absurdity.

100-Year-Old Man is a fun, quirky read. Some parts dragged, and even though the ARC I received is less than 400 pages long, at times, the book felt longer. Then again, with 100 years to cover, the story is understandably packed with events. Still, I love Jonasson’s humour, and I enjoyed seeing history through Allan’s eyes.

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Thank you to Harper Collins Canada for an advanced reading copy of this book in exchange for an honest review.

Review | Speaking from Among the Bones, Alan Bradley

coverThe fifth in Alan Bradley’s Flavia de Luce series begins with blood. An image of John the Baptist’s head in Salome’s hand looms over the pulpit at St. Tancred’s in full colour stained glass. The narrator muses on the vicar’s words, that “in Old Testament times, our blood was taught to contain our lives.” [p. 4] One can almost see the darkened church and hear the portentous music.

Suddenly, the narrator’s reflections on the gory image are cut off:

Of course!

Blood!

Why hadn’t I thought of this before?

“Feely,” I said, tugging at her sleeve. “I have to go home.” [p. 4]

Last spring, the news broke that the Flavia series has been optioned for TV movies, and with such an opening, it’s easy to see why. The rapid switch in mood is comedic gold, and you can just see it on screen as the introduction to this week’s adventure with a beloved series character.

Speaking from Among the Bones is classic Flavia fare. A dead body is found inside the tomb of the village saint, and Flavia, who is “almost twelve” in this instalment, is once more on the case. The mystery itself isn’t my favourite among Bradley’s books, though that may just be a personal preference for Christmas, filmmaking and Shakespeare over archaeology, botany, and a long-lost jewel. There were also moments when Flavia’s taste for the grotesque felt a bit much — more grating than endearing. For example:

Dangerous killers on the loose! The words which every amateur sleuth lives in eternal hope of hearing.

[…] “A matter of life and death!” That other great phrase! Perhaps even greater than “dangerous killers on the loose.”

My cup of crime runneth over, I thought. [p. 306]

Such passages remind me of how young Flavia is, and when used too often, can make her seem callous. That being said, Bradley counteracts these reactions with thoughtful passages that reveal how shaken Flavia is by the murders. For example, a careless remark that “Feely will simple die.” leads Flavia to think about the murder victim and how he died. “Nothing simple about that,” she thinks. “Nobody ever simply dies.” [p. 271] It’s a sobering thought, and one that reveals much more than it purports to.

I probably learned the most science from this book, than from the rest of the series. Did you know, for example, that “blood from the arteries has more oxygen and less nitrogen, while blood from the veins is the opposite”? [p. 285] It is to Bradley’s credit that Flavia’s lecturing never feels boring or unnecessary. And then there are the lovely observations that reveal how magical science can be. For example, did you know seeds from hundreds of years ago can still be planted and grown?

“A seed is a remarkable vessel,” he told me. “Our one true time machine. Each of them is capable of bringing the past, alive, into the present. Think of that!” [p. 77]

Flavia’s family is central to this novel as well, with the mystery of the saint tied closely to whether or not Flavia’s father will be able to keep the Buckshaw estate. Flavia’s sister Feely is reaching marriageable age, and I love her developing romance with Dieter, who “has nothing to offer but love.” [p. 65]

Long-time Flavia fans know her insecurities about her mother Harriet, who disappeared when Flavia was a baby. Flavia’s sisters enjoy teasing her about how much Harriet hated her, and how Flavia is barely like Harriet at all. In this book, there’s an absolutely lovely scene in the middle of the book where Flavia’s father speaks to her about her mother. I won’t post an excerpt here, because I want you to experience the full impact of reading the scene for the first time within the context of the novel. It’s a lovely, revealing moment, only a couple of pages long and sandwiched between more action-packed scenes, but it moved me to tears.

Flavia fans will enjoy this novel, but I will recommend new readers to begin with an earlier book in the series. Elements in this story delve deep into the characters and while even new readers may understand what’s going on, I think I Am Half-Sick of Shadows (Book 4) sets up the family dynamic much more comprehensively, and will set up a better appreciation of the events in this book.

A final note: the ending. Oh my god, the ending. A handwritten note from Lindsey at Random House Canada warned, “P.S. Ainsley said the ending was crazy!” And, well, yes it is. Particularly the last line. Talk about a cliff-hanger! Part of me is annoyed at Bradley taking the episodic serial TV format a bit too far, but really, all I want is even more Flavia de Luce. When is Book 6 coming out again?

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Speaking from Among the Bones will be on-sale January 29.

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Thank you to Random House Canada for an advanced reading copy of this book in exchange for an honest review.

(Full disclosure: As with all Flavia books, when I received this ARC, I squee’d even before I began reading it. Flavia fans will understand why. 😉 )