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challenging
dark
emotional
medium-paced
Plot or Character Driven:
Character
Strong character development:
Complicated
Loveable characters:
Complicated
Diverse cast of characters:
Yes
Flaws of characters a main focus:
No
adventurous
challenging
dark
emotional
reflective
sad
fast-paced
Plot or Character Driven:
Character
Strong character development:
Yes
Loveable characters:
Complicated
Diverse cast of characters:
Yes
Flaws of characters a main focus:
Yes
This book is incredibly strange and challenging, but it is very good. I think it is the most unique book that I've ever read.
There is a lot of child sexual abuse, rape, and incest, so it can be triggering.
The passages abouther babies were really beautiful. I also loved her blossoming relationship with her friend's grandmother. Her descriptions of the people around her were really vivid.
The scene whereher children died is really heartbreaking.
There is a lot of child sexual abuse, rape, and incest, so it can be triggering.
The passages about
The scene where
Graphic: Incest, Rape, Sexual content
challenging
dark
emotional
mysterious
reflective
sad
tense
medium-paced
challenging
dark
emotional
mysterious
This book is bizzare.
I loved the way it experimented with form, an eclectic mix of fiction and poetry merged into one. There isn't a clear narrative, the chapters are very short (making the pace quick and the abstract concepts a little more digestible) and the character is undefined. By this I mean, the narrating voice isn't named or described much at all, the only sense of her you have is her very unique world view, experiences and internal dialogue.
There are a lot of punchy lines and my copy is very highlighted. It felt like a series of memories, dreams and snapshots into someone's life and it was really interesting to explore the characters world in this form. It's split into time periods and shows the character growing up.
There was a point about halfway through the book where it became a five rather than four stars. I'm a sucker for a story that makes me cry.
This book is so odd it makes you feel like you don't understand, but then something intuitive/instinctive in you sort of gets it anyway? I don't know how the writer managed to make me simultaneously relate and be utterly baffled. But I enjoyed it.
It's powerful, it's blunt, it's raw and it's surreal and hits you where it hurts. I definitely recommend.
I loved the way it experimented with form, an eclectic mix of fiction and poetry merged into one. There isn't a clear narrative, the chapters are very short (making the pace quick and the abstract concepts a little more digestible) and the character is undefined. By this I mean, the narrating voice isn't named or described much at all, the only sense of her you have is her very unique world view, experiences and internal dialogue.
There are a lot of punchy lines and my copy is very highlighted. It felt like a series of memories, dreams and snapshots into someone's life and it was really interesting to explore the characters world in this form. It's split into time periods and shows the character growing up.
There was a point about halfway through the book where it became a five rather than four stars. I'm a sucker for a story that makes me cry.
This book is so odd it makes you feel like you don't understand, but then something intuitive/instinctive in you sort of gets it anyway? I don't know how the writer managed to make me simultaneously relate and be utterly baffled. But I enjoyed it.
It's powerful, it's blunt, it's raw and it's surreal and hits you where it hurts. I definitely recommend.
challenging
dark
reflective
medium-paced
Plot or Character Driven:
Character
Strong character development:
Yes
Loveable characters:
Yes
Diverse cast of characters:
N/A
Flaws of characters a main focus:
Complicated
Non-Challenge book: It felt like a fever dream. One that, at times, made you uncomfortable or irritated and you just wanted to wake up, and at other times, you are too fascinated by the bright colors and unusual movements. It's really hard to feel something about this book, but I felt like it was definitely worth the read.
I feel like I would have enjoyed this book if I had more background knowledge on the writer or the time period and location the setting was in (I went in blind besides the blurb). There is a lot of interesting points of view here but I think I am missing what the reality of what they are talking about it because I’m not educated on the subject. It’s like I’m looking at just the shadows of Plato’s cave
It was very poetic and lyrical also which is not bad but not my thing. But I will say I loved the artwork and it had some killer lines, concepts and imagery. Loved the spiritual elements that came in the second half and how it had you questioning what was real.
It was very poetic and lyrical also which is not bad but not my thing. But I will say I loved the artwork and it had some killer lines, concepts and imagery. Loved the spiritual elements that came in the second half and how it had you questioning what was real.
Some books you carry like a burden, others like a wound. Tanya Tagaq’s Split Tooth is both, and it is all the fiercer for it. It was my partner’s mother - poet and seer in equal measure - who pressed it into my hands, hopefully knowing full well the mark it would leave.
This is not a book for the faint-hearted. It speaks in tongues older than memory, in rhythms that echo bone against bone and blood on snow. Its narrator, a girl on the threshold of adulthood in the frozen vastness of Nunavut, moves between the real and the unreal with an ease that feels less like choice and more like necessity. In this world, spirits and animals share the breath of the living. Nature is no mere backdrop but a force eternal, indifferent, and as savage as it is sacred.
Tagaq’s language is jagged and beautiful, stripped of pretense, and full of a strange kind of grace. There are no chapters, no neat divisions - just moments, fragments, lives bleeding into one another. The land is rendered with a precision that cuts: the sharp edge of a frostbitten wind, the endless dark, the oppressive silence that is never truly silent.
And yet, the story it tells is not silence but survival. Tagaq holds nothing back: the traumas of colonialism, the wounds carried by her people, the violence of life itself. Her prose spares no one, least of all the reader. But in the unflinching darkness, there is light too. The kind of light that lingers, stubborn and unyielding, even in the coldest night.
She must have known what she was doing when she suggested me to read this book. Split Tooth does not ask for permission or forgiveness; it enters your mind like a winter storm, and you’ll find yourself changed when it passes. What is myth? What is memory? Tagaq offers no answers. Only the truth, naked and unvarnished.
This is a book for those willing to confront the feral and the sacred within themselves. For those who understand that beauty is often cruel and survival is its own kind of grace. Read it, but know that it will read you in return. Thank you, for the gift and the weight of it.
This is not a book for the faint-hearted. It speaks in tongues older than memory, in rhythms that echo bone against bone and blood on snow. Its narrator, a girl on the threshold of adulthood in the frozen vastness of Nunavut, moves between the real and the unreal with an ease that feels less like choice and more like necessity. In this world, spirits and animals share the breath of the living. Nature is no mere backdrop but a force eternal, indifferent, and as savage as it is sacred.
Tagaq’s language is jagged and beautiful, stripped of pretense, and full of a strange kind of grace. There are no chapters, no neat divisions - just moments, fragments, lives bleeding into one another. The land is rendered with a precision that cuts: the sharp edge of a frostbitten wind, the endless dark, the oppressive silence that is never truly silent.
And yet, the story it tells is not silence but survival. Tagaq holds nothing back: the traumas of colonialism, the wounds carried by her people, the violence of life itself. Her prose spares no one, least of all the reader. But in the unflinching darkness, there is light too. The kind of light that lingers, stubborn and unyielding, even in the coldest night.
She must have known what she was doing when she suggested me to read this book. Split Tooth does not ask for permission or forgiveness; it enters your mind like a winter storm, and you’ll find yourself changed when it passes. What is myth? What is memory? Tagaq offers no answers. Only the truth, naked and unvarnished.
This is a book for those willing to confront the feral and the sacred within themselves. For those who understand that beauty is often cruel and survival is its own kind of grace. Read it, but know that it will read you in return. Thank you, for the gift and the weight of it.