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2.9 AVERAGE
2.9 AVERAGE
I wanted to like this book a lot more than I finally did, but it just never really came together for me. Cantor’s central theme is translation and transformation…of texts, of signs, of people and of life. But Shira, the narrator, never felt like a real person…and her overly precocious daughter, her best friend and roommate, and her Rabbi neighbor and lover, are made of even thinner stuff. The characters felt like a pretext for exploring intellectual questions.
But that’s also where the book shines. From the mechanics of translation to the philosophical implications of what translation means—or even if it’s possible at all—to where translation becomes transformation, this is a novel of fascinating details. If these questions interest you, or you are a fan of Dante, you’ll probably forgive the novel’s many other faults as an entertainment.
Cantor’s novel is rife with characteristics that might have rung my bell (and that might, even in list form, send many running the other direction): erudition, hyper-literate dialogue, postmodern juxtaposition of the story lines and delving into the intricacies—and the questions of—translation. I think Cantor is trying to explore how the act of translation, and being a translator, intersect with and form and deform the narrative we call our lives…and how the postmodern idea of life as a text both fails and is vindicated in the foundering of our words, spoken and unspoken, written and unwritten. Interesting ideas though, unfortunately, the book itself is better on paper.
But that’s also where the book shines. From the mechanics of translation to the philosophical implications of what translation means—or even if it’s possible at all—to where translation becomes transformation, this is a novel of fascinating details. If these questions interest you, or you are a fan of Dante, you’ll probably forgive the novel’s many other faults as an entertainment.
Cantor’s novel is rife with characteristics that might have rung my bell (and that might, even in list form, send many running the other direction): erudition, hyper-literate dialogue, postmodern juxtaposition of the story lines and delving into the intricacies—and the questions of—translation. I think Cantor is trying to explore how the act of translation, and being a translator, intersect with and form and deform the narrative we call our lives…and how the postmodern idea of life as a text both fails and is vindicated in the foundering of our words, spoken and unspoken, written and unwritten. Interesting ideas though, unfortunately, the book itself is better on paper.
I devoured this book in under 48 hours... what a marvel and absolute delight! I loved all the brilliant wordplay and the commentary on how language functions and its role in making meaning. Beyond that, I adored the quirky but poignant story of Shira and her daughter and the rest of the motley crew of their Upper West Side world.
Meh. Might have enjoyed this more if I were an English Lit grad student - it had lots of literary allusions that I didn't quite understand. But even skimming over those parts, the main plot and characters didn't quite work for me. I guessed the Big Secret quickly and spent most of the book wondering how the heroine could be so clueless. Speaking of which, Shira was a difficult character to root for - way too self-centered considering she was the mother of a young daughter - and I couldn't see the appeal for Benny the bookstore owner/literary journal editor/intellectual rabbi who courts her. For all of its literary pretensions, the book's lessons come down to simply "forgive" and "take a chance on love."
Finally WARNING for any prospective readers who are also Cat Ladies - several cats die in a horrible manner. The tragedy brings Shira and Benny closer together, but I couldn't get past the image of the poor dead kitties.
Finally WARNING for any prospective readers who are also Cat Ladies - several cats die in a horrible manner. The tragedy brings Shira and Benny closer together, but I couldn't get past the image of the poor dead kitties.
emotional
hopeful
reflective
medium-paced
Strong character development:
Yes
Loveable characters:
Yes
Diverse cast of characters:
Complicated
Flaws of characters a main focus:
Complicated
The book had this bit of a Crying of Lot 49 feel to it, with a touch of Mr. Penumbra's 24-Hour Bookstore, but a little less weird and with more heart. The characters are zany - yet not so much so as to be unbelievable. I liked a lot of the reflections about parenting, too.
However, I didn't really like the very stylized writing. It seemed a bit removed, the way quotation marks were omitted and the narrator kinda meandered around. All sorts of very devastating and exciting things are going on, and yet she remains a bit too dispassionate for me to really connect to as a reader.
However, I didn't really like the very stylized writing. It seemed a bit removed, the way quotation marks were omitted and the narrator kinda meandered around. All sorts of very devastating and exciting things are going on, and yet she remains a bit too dispassionate for me to really connect to as a reader.
This was a slow burn for me. It took a little while for me to get into it, but once I did, I fell so in love with these characters.
One note: these are not characters that you will particularly like. I cared about them and rooted for them, but these are still incredibly selfish people. Not bad, not at all, but people who aren't particularly good, either. (In short, they're basically just like most other people. They are deeply flawed and they don't seem to improve.)
This is a book for English majors and for people who love poetry. (If this isn't you, you'll probably still enjoy the book, and it's not like it'll be over your head...but I think it'll delight you more if those things apply to you.)
One note: these are not characters that you will particularly like. I cared about them and rooted for them, but these are still incredibly selfish people. Not bad, not at all, but people who aren't particularly good, either. (In short, they're basically just like most other people. They are deeply flawed and they don't seem to improve.)
This is a book for English majors and for people who love poetry. (If this isn't you, you'll probably still enjoy the book, and it's not like it'll be over your head...but I think it'll delight you more if those things apply to you.)
This is a novel of contrasts. On the one hand, the plot is awfully neurotic, it can almost feel like chick lit. (The title certainly made me expect that kind of book.) Shira, faced with the prospect of single motherhood, moves in with her gay best friend to join her in co-parenting. Years of this arrangement and she's one of those people who only exists in fiction: a Manhattanite who holds no regular job, works as a temp, and sometimes publishes a story in a small literary journal.
On the other hand, this is a novel full of intelligent characters and serious thought. It is a book where one character says to another, "Nice chiasmus." It is about poetry and language in large part. And in that way, the title really doesn't do it justice.
But even though you'd think these two things wouldn't mesh well together, they do. Somehow Cantor mostly pulls off this tightrope walk. (There's a period near the end where Shira makes decisions so obviously irrational that you assume they are simply the author trying to create conflict.)
Shira is asked by an internationally famous Italian poet to translate his new work. The central mystery of the book is why he chose her and what his poem is about. I figured it out halfway through, I suspect I caught on a bit earlier than I was supposed to, but it's also not a book that hits you on the head with a hammer or talks down to you about its plot twists. I appreciate that. I also appreciate the presence of a child who is neither too perfect nor too annoying.
Despite its occasional flaws, it's mostly a joy to read. I read it on an airplane, which is a huge compliment.
On the other hand, this is a novel full of intelligent characters and serious thought. It is a book where one character says to another, "Nice chiasmus." It is about poetry and language in large part. And in that way, the title really doesn't do it justice.
But even though you'd think these two things wouldn't mesh well together, they do. Somehow Cantor mostly pulls off this tightrope walk. (There's a period near the end where Shira makes decisions so obviously irrational that you assume they are simply the author trying to create conflict.)
Shira is asked by an internationally famous Italian poet to translate his new work. The central mystery of the book is why he chose her and what his poem is about. I figured it out halfway through, I suspect I caught on a bit earlier than I was supposed to, but it's also not a book that hits you on the head with a hammer or talks down to you about its plot twists. I appreciate that. I also appreciate the presence of a child who is neither too perfect nor too annoying.
Despite its occasional flaws, it's mostly a joy to read. I read it on an airplane, which is a huge compliment.