Foregone, by Russell Banks*****

“Oh, Canada!”

Leonard Fife is a legendary filmmaker, his searing social commentary an important part of North American history. But now he is dying, and he has a few things he needs to get off his chest before he goes. My thanks go to Net Galley and Harper Collins for the review copy. This book is available to the public March 2, 2021.

Fife is not a lovable character, and now that the end is near, he wants everyone to know it. With the cameras trained on him, darkness all around him but for the spot shining on him as he speaks, he tells his life’s story, and he spares himself nothing. One relationship after another, abandoned without even a goodbye. Children left fatherless. Lives laid waste in his passing. Banks is one of the most brilliant novelists in the U.S., and his word smithery can turn nearly any terrible story into spun gold, but he never pulls punches. His writing is often painful to read, and here it is true in spades, agonizing. By the halfway mark, I am watching the page numbers crawl by and wishing it over.

But of course, there’s a surprise in store.

I don’t want to give spoilers, but in the last half of the book, the question arises as to whether our narrator is reliable. He says he did all of these dreadful things; but did he really…?

The book flows so seamlessly that the difficulty of writing it is not obvious, but here it is: almost the entire thing is one man’s narrative. There’s very little dialogue. It’s not an easy thing to carry off, and yet, this is Banks, and he does.

As his narrative unspools, we are occasionally reminded of his current circumstances by breaks in the action. Once in awhile he is overtaxed and starts to drift off, or worse, and action has to cease immediately while the nurse does important things quickly. Now and then she has to change his bag, or help him onto the toilet and wipe his butt afterward. There’s not a lot of dignity left to the man. But he doesn’t give a…okay, I’m not saying it.

As he insistently recounts his many betrayals of loved ones, ignoring the more suitable, conventional questions that the people filming him thought were going to provide the framework of the film, he makes it crystal clear that it doesn’t bother him in the slightest, what he is doing to his legacy. Torpedo all of it; hell, he’ll be dead before the film opens. What he wants is to be truthful, and the one person he wants to know the truth is Emma, his wife. He knows he cannot be truthful with her unless the camera is rolling, and he won’t proceed unless she is there. RIGHT there. He calls for her many times, making certain she hasn’t left. And through the occasional things she says, we are aware that Emma is not merely his arm candy, not a sycophant that married him for fame, fortune, or prestige; she’s a respected professional in her own field, juggling her own commitments in order to be present here and now for Leonard.

By the time the story ends, my feelings have changed. Leonard is still no angel, but he’s not the sack of excrement I believed him to be, either. The guy I hate at the end is the filmmaker, once Leonard’s protegee, but now wolfishly eager for his mentor to die on camera for him. The nurse orders the camera turned off, but the director calls over the top of her to keep it rolling, the vulture. I want to smack him!

Ultimately we see that death is a final betrayal, a form of abandonment; but Leonard is at peace, because his goal is realized. And this is the story’s title, but I am not going to tell you how that works.

Get the book and read it. All your own sorrows will feel smaller.

Raising the Dad, by Tom Matthews***

RaisingtheDad2.5 stars rounded up.  I was invited to read free and early by Net Galley and St. Martin’s Press, which is one of my favorite publishers.  It looked promising; original and, the teaser said, “brutally funny” in places.  I wanted to like it, but yet.

The title is a play on words (raising the dead, raising the dad, get it?)  I didn’t realize it at the outset or I might have dodged it. “Dad” was declared dead many years ago. He was not going to make it, and everyone agreed to turn off the machines and let him go in peace. The widow believes she is a widow, but the fact is, he’s still alive.

What happens when a patient is brain-dead and you turn off the machinery and the patient continues to live? What if he lives a long, long time?

The question provides a great premise—though the particulars here are far-fetched– but if it had been my choice, the pitch and the cover would have been different. This is a gritty, dramatic topic, and the cover shouts that this is going to be a light, fun read. Oh reader, it really isn’t. There are some funny moments, mostly involving the protagonist’s badly behaved brother, Mike, but they aren’t enough to keep the story from being a grim, miserable grind.

When my confidence in a galley flags, I go to Goodreads to see what other early reviewers have to say. At least one other reviewer argued convincingly that although most of the story is slow and unpleasant, the last 100 pages are brilliant and illuminate the reason for the rest of the story being as it is. Because of this, I soldiered my way through to the 70% mark, waiting for genius to reveal itself. But for me, that train never arrived at the station though I was well into the denouement, and with a mixture of relief and disappointment, I gave myself permission to abandon the journey.

This book is for sale now, but it is not a good choice for a Father’s Day gift. Trust me.

Forever is the Worst Long Time, by Camille Pagan****

Happy release day! This title is available to the public today.

Seattle Book Mama

 “Each story is different. Every story ends with loss.”

foreveristheworstCamille Pagan is the author Life and Other Near Death Experiences. Thank you Net Galley and Lake Union Publishing for the DRC, which I received in exchange for an honest review. This title is for sale February 7, 2017.

The story starts in the second person, with the narrator speaking to us intimately; he is James Hernandez, and soon we realize that he is speaking to a child about her mother and his memories of her. The narrative is therefore intimate in tone, but also carefully measured and paced, beginning in 1998 when James meets Lou and unspooling toward the present.  I have read oh so many novels in which alternating viewpoints are used to keep the reader’s attention from wandering, and this fresh approach had me at hello.

James is Rob’s best friend; James’s own childhood home was dysfunctional…

View original post 357 more words

Tuesdays with Morrie, by Mitch Albom*****

tuesdayswithmorrie My older sister gives away most of the books she reads when she is done. She doesn’t have a lot of shelf space, and she likes the idea of other people getting to read something free. So imagine my surprise when, seeing how much I liked Randy Pausch’s The Last Lecture, she gave me this book and said, “You may want to read this.” Almost as an afterthought, I asked, “Do you want it back?” I was amazed when she said, “Yes. Take your time, but I would like it back.”

This was a first!

I did take my time. My sister lives in Portland, and I hadn’t yet drifted into the wonderful world of advance reader’s copies, so I had come home to Seattle with bags and bags of new treasures from Powell’s City of Books. Those I’d been wishing for were the ones I read first, and then I moved into the curiosities. When I started this one, I realized right away that it was an important read.

I’d thought a fair amount about dying lately; we’d lost someone, and my thoughts followed them from time to time. Reading the positive way that Morrie approached death was inspirational to me. Instead of stiffening and pulling away from others when he knew his physical form had become unattractive to people, he took a chance by asking for what he needed, and his wishes were met because of who he had been earlier in life, and because of his mentorship as a younger man.

I loved the little aphorisms, said in the midst of really awful pain, such as “Don’t leave too soon…but don’t stay too long”.

The fact that so many people came from miles and miles away to see him off speaks well of the character of this old man. His willingness to own the self-absorbed person he had been, and to credit the old man’s influence, speaks well of the writer.

And for me…it helped me accept what will happen one day, with a little more grace. That is a life-changing thing. Not many books change my life, but I think that Tuesdays With Morrie has.

Don’t be afraid, as Morrie says. Death isn’t contagious. Even if you are young, well, and fit…don’t be afraid to read about death. It may do you some good.

When Breath Becomes Air, by Paul Kalanithi*****

This beautifully written memoir is for sale today, and definitely worthy of a re-blog!

Seattle Book Mama

whenbreathbecomesairPaul Kalanithi was a promising young physician who had nearly finished completing ten years of training as a neurosurgeon when he was diagnosed with Stage IV lung cancer. His twin ambitions had been to become a neurosurgeon and to write. When he realized how little time was left of his too-brief life, he decided to spend his remaining time writing this book. Thank you, Net Galley and Random House Publishing House for the DRC. Dr. Kalanithi died in March 2015, but he left this luminous memoir behind as part of his legacy. It is available to the public January 19, 2016.

The memoir starts with fond adolescent memories that left me dumbfounded, not only at the level of privilege he was born into, but the assumptions that go along with that. I was afraid I would fall into the uncomfortable place of not being able to generously review a dead…

View original post 422 more words