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3.41 AVERAGE
3.41 AVERAGE
Lovely. I wasn't as bowled over by the whole thing the way many were, but it isn't in my nature to fall in love with strikingly poetic prose. Here at least the poetry felt right for the narrative voice, right for the situation she found herself in, right for the atmosphere of ranch life in Seville, and most importantly, it didn't get in the way of the story's movement.
The story was intriguing and emotionally charged, but the writing tended to frustrate me. Don't get me wrong, I love beautiful prose, but sometimes a writer falls a little too in love with their own words. Some of the most powerful moments in this book are when the author isn't indulging in wordy lyricism:
"Five months is forever," I told her.
"You made your choices," she said, and I said, "No." Because the only thing I chose was you.
That's beautiful, and lyrical, without being verbose. Unlike here: "Sometimes, with a camcorder, you record motion. Sometimes you try to stop it. Slow it down, find the shadows, know what lies between."
Okay, that's pretty and all, but that kind of writing makes me tune right out of the story. It should be noted that what came BEFORE the above was strong enough to stand alone. In fact, I think it would have been stronger if the above paragraph had been omitted:
"Soon you meet Javier and Adair."
"Who are Javier and Adair?" I ask.
"The parents," he says. "Of your child."
Had the author left it there, I would have been pulled in and stayed in. As it was, I found myself skimming all the "extra" language of this already-short novel. Again, beautiful language is awesome. BEL CANTO has lots of it but each word still contributes to the story. In this book, it doesn't always, and that's dangerous. Readers don't want to stick around for extra words unless they're essential to the plot, no matter how pretty they are. I had to force myself to finish the story, because I wanted to see how it ended. Otherwise, I would have put it down after the second chapter.
"Five months is forever," I told her.
"You made your choices," she said, and I said, "No." Because the only thing I chose was you.
That's beautiful, and lyrical, without being verbose. Unlike here: "Sometimes, with a camcorder, you record motion. Sometimes you try to stop it. Slow it down, find the shadows, know what lies between."
Okay, that's pretty and all, but that kind of writing makes me tune right out of the story. It should be noted that what came BEFORE the above was strong enough to stand alone. In fact, I think it would have been stronger if the above paragraph had been omitted:
"Soon you meet Javier and Adair."
"Who are Javier and Adair?" I ask.
"The parents," he says. "Of your child."
Had the author left it there, I would have been pulled in and stayed in. As it was, I found myself skimming all the "extra" language of this already-short novel. Again, beautiful language is awesome. BEL CANTO has lots of it but each word still contributes to the story. In this book, it doesn't always, and that's dangerous. Readers don't want to stick around for extra words unless they're essential to the plot, no matter how pretty they are. I had to force myself to finish the story, because I wanted to see how it ended. Otherwise, I would have put it down after the second chapter.
The summary intrigued me from the start, and it may be that I don't enjoy too much prose, but I was overwhelmed by the novel being entirely written this way. Small Damages was pretty disappointing because it isn't really like the summary has you believe.
Kenzie sounds like a determined young woman in the summary, but in the actual story, she's actually quite weak. Although she wants to keep her baby, she doesn't really resist when her mother decides to send her to Spain to keep everything under wraps. In Spain, she spends her days with the cook or wandering around in the house. She develops a little, but she is a flat character that I couldn't like or relate to at all.
The only thing I liked in the book were the descriptions of Spain. I have been to Spain and while reading some passages that described the streets, smells, cafes and other places. I was able to envision it all again.. It definitely made want to visit again.
Not much really happens in the rest of the book and I even became a bit confused with some parts so that made it really difficult for me to even finish it. I spent weeks trying to get into the story and while I did manage to finish it, it was painstakingly so. The ending felt a bit rushed and I saw it coming a mile away, so I was not surprised with how things were resolved. Instead, I was frustrated with the writing and the characters and I just wanted to be done with the book and move on to something else.
Overall: Small Damages definitely was not for me and I don't think I will be reading any others by this author. While the premise sounded great, not much in this book really satisfied me or kept me interested. It has received a lot of great reviews and nominations though, so if it sounds like something you would enjoy, give it a try.
Kenzie sounds like a determined young woman in the summary, but in the actual story, she's actually quite weak. Although she wants to keep her baby, she doesn't really resist when her mother decides to send her to Spain to keep everything under wraps. In Spain, she spends her days with the cook or wandering around in the house. She develops a little, but she is a flat character that I couldn't like or relate to at all.
The only thing I liked in the book were the descriptions of Spain. I have been to Spain and while reading some passages that described the streets, smells, cafes and other places. I was able to envision it all again.. It definitely made want to visit again.
Not much really happens in the rest of the book and I even became a bit confused with some parts so that made it really difficult for me to even finish it. I spent weeks trying to get into the story and while I did manage to finish it, it was painstakingly so. The ending felt a bit rushed and I saw it coming a mile away, so I was not surprised with how things were resolved. Instead, I was frustrated with the writing and the characters and I just wanted to be done with the book and move on to something else.
Overall: Small Damages definitely was not for me and I don't think I will be reading any others by this author. While the premise sounded great, not much in this book really satisfied me or kept me interested. It has received a lot of great reviews and nominations though, so if it sounds like something you would enjoy, give it a try.
One of the most indulgent things about reading a Beth Kephart novel is getting the sense of being fully transported into another time and place. For example, in The Heart is Not a Size, she immersed her reader in the heartbreak that is Juarez, Mexico. With Dangerous Neighbors, one is swept back into 1876, at the height of the Centennial Exposition in Philadelphia.
This literary levitation is one of the reasons why Kephart's books lend themselves so well to being read in one sitting.
That's certainly not a requirement in order to experience the extraordinary sense of place and time that make up a Beth Kephart book, but that is precisely how I tend to read her books, including Small Damages, her fourteenth.
Like the reader of her coming-of-age story, Kenzie Spitzer has also been suddenly whisked away - to southern Spain, banished by her detached mother who is more concerned about what people might think about 18 year old Kenzie's unplanned pregnancy than what Kenzie herself might want or need.
And what Kenzie needs, we learn, are several people she once had but who have now been made distant by the separation of two oceans or two worlds. Her once-best-friend-turned-boyfriend Kevin (and the father of the baby) is enjoying a carefree summer with her friends on the Jersey shore. Her father is dead, gone in an instant from a heart attack. Replacing them all are strangers in the old cortijo in Spain where Kenzie, abandoned by her own mother (a parallel for her own connection to her unborn child) is sent to live, until she has her baby and until it is given up for adoption - no questions asked, no input from Kenzie.
In Spain, Kenzie stays in a villa with Estela, a cook who is an acquaintance of a sorority friend of her mother's. There's Miguel, Luis, sensitive Esteban, a band of musical Gypsies, and the couple who plans to adopt the baby. Each of them has something to teach Kenzie about love, about secrets and regret, about loss, about healing, about distance and time.
"Distance isn't the end of love." She touches her heart and closes her eyes. "You write to him, Kenzie. If you love him."
"Maybe he doesn't love me anymore. Maybe that's how it is."
"Know your own heart first. Be careful." (pg. 77)
"Nothing goes away, Esteban says, after a long time passes. Not the things you remember, and not the things you still want." (pg. 152)
When you read a Beth Kephart novel, you expect an immersion in color, in poetry and language, a sensory experience, an exploration into the heart. Small Damages is no exception. Here, we feel the heat of the Spanish sun; we hear the sizzle and pop of the onions in the pan while Estella prepares paella; we see the brilliant colors of the oranges and smell their fragrance. We feel Kenzie's hurt and heartbreak; it is palpable on the page. (Since she has lost her dad, she might do well to become acquainted with Katie D'Amore, who lost her mom and who we met in Beth's novel Nothing But Ghosts. They do reside in pretty close proximity on Philadelphia's Main Line, after all.)
Through it all, we go to Spain within the folds of a story that is laden with symbolism and meaning - for it is impossible to miss the religious symbolism and life and death undertones in Small Damages. (Yeah, I'm going to go there.)
It's more prevalent here than in any other of Beth's books I've read, yet is handled beautifully and with such grace. From the presence of the nuns "blackbirding by" to the visits to Necropolis to Kenzie's mother's declarations of what to do about the baby ("I'm calling Dr. Sam. We're going to fix this." "Fix it?" I said), to Miguel's bulls that will soon be taken away, to Kenzie's tender interactions of addressing the baby directly, to the birds (including actual STORKS!), to the storyline about adoption, to Estela's exclamations of Santa Maria, madre de Dios. All this, sometimes even within several paragraphs.
"He points to the sky, and I hear what he hears - a church bell song and also a flamenco song - and suddenly I'm wondering what would have happened if I had had a plan this morning, had not woken up and cold showered and started walking on my way to who knows where. Think ahead, Kevin always said, but I don't know how to think anymore, or what to think about, and now, from around the bend come a bride and groom and a party, and suddenly I am thinking about you - how I wish you could see this, wish I could someday tell you how, at the end of the procession, there was a pig and after that pig there were four boys chasing it straight through the streets.
Your eyes are on the sides of your head, and then they move forward. They are black seeds, and then they blink. I can't remember if it's happened already. You're not some tiny half inch anymore. You're a baby, my baby, but you won't be. You aren't. You are Javier and Adair's, and I know nothing - they're telling me nothing - about them.
'I have something for to show you,' Miguel says, when the crowd is gone and the pig is lost and we can still hear the holler of boys. He takes me around to the other side of town. 'The Necropolis,' he says. It's a low hill relaxed beneath the shade of cypress trees. We walk between slabs of stone walls and down into a world carved out of sand, a world of Roman ruins.
'Two hundred tombs,' Miguel says, and he says, 'Go and see,' He stays where he is. I walk alone through walls that seem carved out of earth toward rooms that definitely are, and everything is timeless, everything is smooth, everything is like it must have always been. Gone is gone; it lasts forever." (pg. 87)
In this life, none of us escapes unscathed. We're all left with damages, small and large. Through Kenzie's eyes, we see those and those of the people in her midst. We see the sting of regret, but we also see the power of choices. Small Damages reminds the reader that even when we think they aren't, our choices are still there, always ours for the making.
This literary levitation is one of the reasons why Kephart's books lend themselves so well to being read in one sitting.
That's certainly not a requirement in order to experience the extraordinary sense of place and time that make up a Beth Kephart book, but that is precisely how I tend to read her books, including Small Damages, her fourteenth.
Like the reader of her coming-of-age story, Kenzie Spitzer has also been suddenly whisked away - to southern Spain, banished by her detached mother who is more concerned about what people might think about 18 year old Kenzie's unplanned pregnancy than what Kenzie herself might want or need.
And what Kenzie needs, we learn, are several people she once had but who have now been made distant by the separation of two oceans or two worlds. Her once-best-friend-turned-boyfriend Kevin (and the father of the baby) is enjoying a carefree summer with her friends on the Jersey shore. Her father is dead, gone in an instant from a heart attack. Replacing them all are strangers in the old cortijo in Spain where Kenzie, abandoned by her own mother (a parallel for her own connection to her unborn child) is sent to live, until she has her baby and until it is given up for adoption - no questions asked, no input from Kenzie.
In Spain, Kenzie stays in a villa with Estela, a cook who is an acquaintance of a sorority friend of her mother's. There's Miguel, Luis, sensitive Esteban, a band of musical Gypsies, and the couple who plans to adopt the baby. Each of them has something to teach Kenzie about love, about secrets and regret, about loss, about healing, about distance and time.
"Distance isn't the end of love." She touches her heart and closes her eyes. "You write to him, Kenzie. If you love him."
"Maybe he doesn't love me anymore. Maybe that's how it is."
"Know your own heart first. Be careful." (pg. 77)
"Nothing goes away, Esteban says, after a long time passes. Not the things you remember, and not the things you still want." (pg. 152)
When you read a Beth Kephart novel, you expect an immersion in color, in poetry and language, a sensory experience, an exploration into the heart. Small Damages is no exception. Here, we feel the heat of the Spanish sun; we hear the sizzle and pop of the onions in the pan while Estella prepares paella; we see the brilliant colors of the oranges and smell their fragrance. We feel Kenzie's hurt and heartbreak; it is palpable on the page. (Since she has lost her dad, she might do well to become acquainted with Katie D'Amore, who lost her mom and who we met in Beth's novel Nothing But Ghosts. They do reside in pretty close proximity on Philadelphia's Main Line, after all.)
Through it all, we go to Spain within the folds of a story that is laden with symbolism and meaning - for it is impossible to miss the religious symbolism and life and death undertones in Small Damages. (Yeah, I'm going to go there.)
It's more prevalent here than in any other of Beth's books I've read, yet is handled beautifully and with such grace. From the presence of the nuns "blackbirding by" to the visits to Necropolis to Kenzie's mother's declarations of what to do about the baby ("I'm calling Dr. Sam. We're going to fix this." "Fix it?" I said), to Miguel's bulls that will soon be taken away, to Kenzie's tender interactions of addressing the baby directly, to the birds (including actual STORKS!), to the storyline about adoption, to Estela's exclamations of Santa Maria, madre de Dios. All this, sometimes even within several paragraphs.
"He points to the sky, and I hear what he hears - a church bell song and also a flamenco song - and suddenly I'm wondering what would have happened if I had had a plan this morning, had not woken up and cold showered and started walking on my way to who knows where. Think ahead, Kevin always said, but I don't know how to think anymore, or what to think about, and now, from around the bend come a bride and groom and a party, and suddenly I am thinking about you - how I wish you could see this, wish I could someday tell you how, at the end of the procession, there was a pig and after that pig there were four boys chasing it straight through the streets.
Your eyes are on the sides of your head, and then they move forward. They are black seeds, and then they blink. I can't remember if it's happened already. You're not some tiny half inch anymore. You're a baby, my baby, but you won't be. You aren't. You are Javier and Adair's, and I know nothing - they're telling me nothing - about them.
'I have something for to show you,' Miguel says, when the crowd is gone and the pig is lost and we can still hear the holler of boys. He takes me around to the other side of town. 'The Necropolis,' he says. It's a low hill relaxed beneath the shade of cypress trees. We walk between slabs of stone walls and down into a world carved out of sand, a world of Roman ruins.
'Two hundred tombs,' Miguel says, and he says, 'Go and see,' He stays where he is. I walk alone through walls that seem carved out of earth toward rooms that definitely are, and everything is timeless, everything is smooth, everything is like it must have always been. Gone is gone; it lasts forever." (pg. 87)
In this life, none of us escapes unscathed. We're all left with damages, small and large. Through Kenzie's eyes, we see those and those of the people in her midst. We see the sting of regret, but we also see the power of choices. Small Damages reminds the reader that even when we think they aren't, our choices are still there, always ours for the making.
Loved it! Loved Kenzie, Estela, Esteban, Miguel and everyone else. The writing was beautiful and the entire story was just breathtaking.
It astounded me how much such a small book could portray so many different kinds of love. Love for a child. Love for a mother who is not your birth mother. Love for a country that is not your own. And perhaps the hardest in this world to learn - loving yourself. Such a powerful story of healing, opening your heart, and allowing yourself to love and be loved. My story of becoming a mother shares little resemblance to Kenzie's story, yet I felt so many of the same emotions she did - being fearful of making the wrong choices, wondering what my baby would choose if she knew the options, and of loving the life inside me so much that I knew I would never be the same person. Beautiful story. Beautiful storytelling. #mademecry
I really liked this book, but I'm not sure how many teens I know would be able to get through it.
Lovely. I wasn't as bowled over by the whole thing the way many were, but it isn't in my nature to fall in love with strikingly poetic prose. Here at least the poetry felt right for the narrative voice, right for the situation she found herself in, right for the atmosphere of ranch life in Seville, and most importantly, it didn't get in the way of the story's movement.
Kenzie is not the sort of teen who gets pregnant. She has college plans, a boyfriend who is headed to Yale, but she took risks. Earlier in the year, she lost her beloved father and now her mother just wants to move on. Her mother wants to do the same with the pregnancy. Kenzie decides to keep the baby and her mother creates a plan to keep the pregnancy a secret: she sends Kenzie off to Spain for the summer. Staying with a friend of her mother, Kenzie is taken under the wing of Estela, a small, fierce woman who cooks for the ranch where they raise bulls for bullfighting. Estela guides Kenzie through learning to cook, making sure that she also takes care of herself and the baby. Kenzie meets the couple who will adopt her baby and also a young man who works on the ranch with the animals. She slowly comes out of her shell, building relationships with those around her. This book is an homage to Spain, an exploration of choice, and a delight of a read.
Read the rest of my review on my blog, Waking Brain Cells.
Read the rest of my review on my blog, Waking Brain Cells.