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3.98 AVERAGE
3.98 AVERAGE
emotional
sad
slow-paced
Plot or Character Driven:
Character
Strong character development:
No
Loveable characters:
Yes
Diverse cast of characters:
Yes
Flaws of characters a main focus:
No
Wonderfully drawn characters! Heart aching, and vivid. I loved it.
I saw Colum McCann give a reading at the Calabash Festival in Treasure Beach, Jamaica in 2014. I bought this book and got it signed, not having read it. WELL NOW I HAVE.
I was prepared to give it four stars because, while I enjoyed the clear prose and distinct voices created, it wasn't resonating with me and I couldn't see how things would wrap up neatly. And then it did. The last chapter slayed me, nearly brought me to tears. Brought the whole book full circle. LOVEEEEE
I was prepared to give it four stars because, while I enjoyed the clear prose and distinct voices created, it wasn't resonating with me and I couldn't see how things would wrap up neatly. And then it did. The last chapter slayed me, nearly brought me to tears. Brought the whole book full circle. LOVEEEEE
A set of vignettes about loosely linked New Yorkers in 1974, set against the backdrop of Pierre Petit tightrope walking between the twin towers.
McCann writes wonderful dialogue-- his conversations come off the page. His knack is most visible in the similarities of tone and humor found in the Tillie-Jazzlyn-Jaslyn-Janice family, even the estranged daughters have similar vocal tics and teasing mannerisms.
McCann writes wonderful dialogue-- his conversations come off the page. His knack is most visible in the similarities of tone and humor found in the Tillie-Jazzlyn-Jaslyn-Janice family, even the estranged daughters have similar vocal tics and teasing mannerisms.
The stories were a bit disconnected, but it came together (for the most part) in the end.
I cannot begin to possibly describe what a beautiful piece of literature this is because anything I write pales in comparison to the words on the page. This is a story told through many different character's perspectives, some of whom you get to know in one chapter and who are delicately interwoven into another character's story in the next chapter. All the characters in the story are intertwined in New York City during the mid-1970's. This isn't a true story, but the only character that actually existed was the high wire man who literally walked across the World Trade Center towers in 1974 (amazing). There were some character's stories I enjoyed more than others, but they all fit together so nicely and I was interested in all of them for various reasons. I can see why this novel has won awards and this will not be the only book I read by this author. I highly recommend this novel to anyone interested in reading good quality literature. What a truly exquisite story.
This is an incredible book. I actually feel like I just watched a movie. The writing is understated but incredibly descriptive. McCann embodies each character seemlessly.
I read this book on the recommendation of my girlfriend, and I can say I completely trust her taste in literature now. Let the Great World Spin is a fantastic book, by turns beautiful and tragic. The different characters and disparate lives all affect one another in a myriad of seemingly random ways, both large and small, eventually coming together in a way that showcases an excellent command of storytelling. And, above it all - above the ghettos and high rise apartments and teenagers on the forefront of a technical revolution and mothers dealing with the losses Vietnam forced on them - balances one man holding a pole, dancing on a wire between the not-quite-finished Twin Towers.
Colum McCann wrote a fantastic story, and you'd be doing yourself a disservice by not reading it. It's that simple.
Colum McCann wrote a fantastic story, and you'd be doing yourself a disservice by not reading it. It's that simple.
Those who saw him hushed. On Church Street. Liberty. Cortlandt. West Street. Fulton. Vesey. It was a silence that heard itself, awful and beautiful. Some thought at first that it must have been a trick of the light, something to do with the weather, an accident of shadowfall. Others figured it might be the perfect city joke – stand around and point upward, until people gathered, tilted their heads, nodded, affirmed, until all were staring upward at nothing at all, like waiting for the end of a Lenny Bruce gag. But the longer they watched, the surer they were. He stood at the very edge of the building, shaped dark against the gray of the morning. A window washer maybe. Or a construction worker. Or a jumper. Up there, at the height of a hundred and ten stories, utterly still, a dark toy against the cloudy sky.
So opens Let the Great World Spin.
I heard about the book from a Diane Rehm Show podcast in 2009. It was a hot summer day, and I was walking around Foggy Bottom transfixed by the author reading his fictionalized account of Philippe Petit‘s walk between the Twin Towers.
In some ways, this book reminded me of Netherland, and in others, A Visit from the Goon Squad. The interwoven stories hinge on two events: Petit’s 1974 walk, and the trial of a prostitute. These events dance around the periphery of the life of an uptown Jewish doctor’s wife grieving for the death of her son. An African-American woman who has also lost her sons takes in the children of the prostitute, dead in a car accident shortly after her trial. A woman tangentially involved in the accident feels responsibility for the death of the priest who had befriended the prostitute, and seeks out his brother, the one-time john of the prostitute’s mother, left behind in prison. It’s a complex and emotional book, wonderfully written, and deserving of the National Book Award, though I’m not sure what makes a book National Book Award worthy.
I copied these lines down weeks ago when I first finished the novel on a hot Sunday when I needed a laugh more than a cry on my friend’s couch, her cat next to me, feeling absolutely alone, gutted in the same ways that I was when I finished The Wild Palms:
I walked in the woods, around the lake, out onto the dirt roads. Gather all around the things that you love, I thought, and prepare to lose them.
So opens Let the Great World Spin.
I heard about the book from a Diane Rehm Show podcast in 2009. It was a hot summer day, and I was walking around Foggy Bottom transfixed by the author reading his fictionalized account of Philippe Petit‘s walk between the Twin Towers.
In some ways, this book reminded me of Netherland, and in others, A Visit from the Goon Squad. The interwoven stories hinge on two events: Petit’s 1974 walk, and the trial of a prostitute. These events dance around the periphery of the life of an uptown Jewish doctor’s wife grieving for the death of her son. An African-American woman who has also lost her sons takes in the children of the prostitute, dead in a car accident shortly after her trial. A woman tangentially involved in the accident feels responsibility for the death of the priest who had befriended the prostitute, and seeks out his brother, the one-time john of the prostitute’s mother, left behind in prison. It’s a complex and emotional book, wonderfully written, and deserving of the National Book Award, though I’m not sure what makes a book National Book Award worthy.
I copied these lines down weeks ago when I first finished the novel on a hot Sunday when I needed a laugh more than a cry on my friend’s couch, her cat next to me, feeling absolutely alone, gutted in the same ways that I was when I finished The Wild Palms:
I walked in the woods, around the lake, out onto the dirt roads. Gather all around the things that you love, I thought, and prepare to lose them.
