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3.82 AVERAGE
3.82 AVERAGE
This unusual, original book recounts the story of a road trip across the southwest taken by a blended family of four—a mom and her 5-year-old daughter and a dad and his 10-year-old son. The parents, both professionals who capture sound as a way to document the world, are driven (and being driven apart) by their own obsessions. His is for learning about the lost Apache peoples. Hers is to record the names of immigrant children from Mexico and beyond, who are lost. While flawed in more than one way, I found the book captivating, despite the aloof tone of the narrators.
Formally audacious and full of allusions both literary and musical (David Bowie’s Space Oddity is a recurring motif), the book has three central threads. One is the main plot: a family on the verge of breaking apart is setting out on a road trip. The purpose of the trip is twofold, thus providing the other main threads of the novel. The unnamed father is pursuing a sound project exploring the geography around the final stand of Geronimo and the Apache band, the last surviving free Indians. The unnamed mother is consumed with the news of the child refugee crisis unfolding at the US-Mexico border, and she has her own creative project and personal mission in the Southwest to fulfill. The unnamed children, a 10 year old boy and 5 year old daughter, are not biologically related but they are siblings through and through.
If you, like me, love to read literary fiction at its apex, you will love this novel. It is structurally unique and complex, but not at all difficult to read. It lends itself to deep analysis and re-reading to pick up the allusions and the various motifs throughout the book. At times, this novel literally took my breath away and by the last 50 pages, I had to set it down and walk away to calm myself and process my tears. At novel’s end, I was exhilarated at the virtuosity of this novel.
If you, like me, love to read literary fiction at its apex, you will love this novel. It is structurally unique and complex, but not at all difficult to read. It lends itself to deep analysis and re-reading to pick up the allusions and the various motifs throughout the book. At times, this novel literally took my breath away and by the last 50 pages, I had to set it down and walk away to calm myself and process my tears. At novel’s end, I was exhilarated at the virtuosity of this novel.
3,5*
Loved the first half of the book (and the writing style), but the second one seemed to really be dragging.
Loved the first half of the book (and the writing style), but the second one seemed to really be dragging.
It’s probably too early in the year to say that I’ve read the best book I’m going to read in 2020. I do think, however, that estimating Lost Children Archive as
one of the most passionately and successfully expressed pieces of fictional writing I’ll read this year is not a bad bet. A young friend told me that she’d read another of Luiselli’s books as a Duke undergraduate, and her deep commitment to social justice and issues around our current immigration policy were literary landmarks in that novel as well. Here, Luiselli interweaves the story of a brilliant family coming apart because of philosophical differences that emerge during an extended road trip to research the fate of children crossing our southern border— and stories of those children themselves. The storytelling about these parallel journeys, sometimes narrated by Ma, sometimes by Pa, and ultimately, by Boy, are gorgeously characteristic of each character’s intellect and character, and also allow us a window into their collective experience. Literature, poetry, philosophy, political theory, psychology, geography, psychology, survival skills, and music all play important roles here (not your average family!), but it is common sense and compassion that bring it all home. This is a wonderful book.
one of the most passionately and successfully expressed pieces of fictional writing I’ll read this year is not a bad bet. A young friend told me that she’d read another of Luiselli’s books as a Duke undergraduate, and her deep commitment to social justice and issues around our current immigration policy were literary landmarks in that novel as well. Here, Luiselli interweaves the story of a brilliant family coming apart because of philosophical differences that emerge during an extended road trip to research the fate of children crossing our southern border— and stories of those children themselves. The storytelling about these parallel journeys, sometimes narrated by Ma, sometimes by Pa, and ultimately, by Boy, are gorgeously characteristic of each character’s intellect and character, and also allow us a window into their collective experience. Literature, poetry, philosophy, political theory, psychology, geography, psychology, survival skills, and music all play important roles here (not your average family!), but it is common sense and compassion that bring it all home. This is a wonderful book.
The boy went to the bathroom and took a poop.
Maybe his poop was a poop on western society, the splash of the toilet a sonic reckoning with our collective guilt as a nation of lonely families, torn apart by desires, the echoes of our voices, of our bowel movements, inhabiting the spaces between us. I think back to my college days, reading deep literary figures, and I imagine the boy knows more about life than any of us, as we go on this road trip to our inevitable end.
Mommy, I took a poop. But there's no toilet paper, the boy says.
I think about this. I agree with him. Maybe he knows something we don't, this child, who knows that there is no toilet paper in the world, this world that resounds with people crying for need, with marriages crying for rectification. The sounds of his words bounce into my ears, and I wonder how wise he is.
Maybe his poop was a poop on western society, the splash of the toilet a sonic reckoning with our collective guilt as a nation of lonely families, torn apart by desires, the echoes of our voices, of our bowel movements, inhabiting the spaces between us. I think back to my college days, reading deep literary figures, and I imagine the boy knows more about life than any of us, as we go on this road trip to our inevitable end.
Mommy, I took a poop. But there's no toilet paper, the boy says.
I think about this. I agree with him. Maybe he knows something we don't, this child, who knows that there is no toilet paper in the world, this world that resounds with people crying for need, with marriages crying for rectification. The sounds of his words bounce into my ears, and I wonder how wise he is.
I read Tell Me How It Ends and liked it very much. It was small and full of quotable text about the absurdities of the US immigration system. This book was nothing like that one.
It was long. None of the characters were named. The ma character narrated the first half of the book and part way through her chapters I grew tired of her nonspecific droning on about how her marriage was ending. She pulled me back in a bit before her chapters ended. The boy narrated the second half, he was the 10 year old stepson. His sections were more interesting and I thought the author did a good job writing from a 10 year old's perspective.
It was long. None of the characters were named. The ma character narrated the first half of the book and part way through her chapters I grew tired of her nonspecific droning on about how her marriage was ending. She pulled me back in a bit before her chapters ended. The boy narrated the second half, he was the 10 year old stepson. His sections were more interesting and I thought the author did a good job writing from a 10 year old's perspective.
This got long and tedious. Once the 10 year old started talking it became tortuous.
challenging
hopeful
reflective
tense
slow-paced
Plot or Character Driven:
A mix
Strong character development:
Complicated
Loveable characters:
Yes
Diverse cast of characters:
Yes
Flaws of characters a main focus:
Yes
Her writing is exceptional. I found myself Re reading sentences simply because they were so exquisite. When the narrator’s voice changes the so too does the meaning of “lost children”. No longer is this abstract sadness. but a powerful fear overtakes the reader and the plight of lost children becomes much more real on many levels.
emotional
medium-paced
Plot or Character Driven:
Character
Strong character development:
Yes
Loveable characters:
Yes
Diverse cast of characters:
Yes
Flaws of characters a main focus:
Yes