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3.79 AVERAGE
3.79 AVERAGE
Beneath Monsieur Trépagny’s generosity they sensed contempt.
When an alder branch tore Duquet’s jacket he swore in a low voice. Monsieur Trépagny heard him and said he must never curse a tree, especially the alder, which had medicinal powers.
Someday New France will extend all the way to Florida, all the way to the great river in the west. New France was a prize if England kept away.
They stood opposed on the nature of the forest. To Mari it was a living entity, as vital as the waterways, filled with the gifts of medicine, food, shelter, tool material, which everyone discovered and remembered. One lived with it in harmony and gratitude.
1693–1727
equatorial Doldrums
“We are a country of agriculture. You understand of course that land division is the base of all human government.”
“This is a country of scholars, poets and calligraphers,” said Wuqua, “and the four treasures are brush, paper, ink and inkstone, the necessities of calligraphy.
But nothing is everlasting. Nothing. Not forests, not mountains.”
She mourns the loss of woodland grottoes where certain plants once grew but are no more because of the industry of the settlers.
The marriage was celebrated with a wedding feast and drinking match that lasted for days. Captain Verdwijnen presented the couple with a splendid present of a set of silver vorks, the new eating implements.
“You are in a hurry with sons as in all else,” said the captain. “If you cannot wait until God grants your wish you might get some ready-made sons from the Weeshuis, that place of orphans... Duquet was excited by this idea of adopting ready-made sons.
Back in New France, which people more and more called Canada after the old Iroquois word kanata,
Duquet thought there were probably many like Forgeron but he only shrugged. The old days counted for very little.
The buggers are impervious to cold and heat and they bear pain as the Indians do, stoically and silently, even with relish.
Scratch some New England colonists, he thought, and you find Englishmen, as the bark of a tree hides inner rot.
“The children of one mother should be together. We have the same blood.”
When an alder branch tore Duquet’s jacket he swore in a low voice. Monsieur Trépagny heard him and said he must never curse a tree, especially the alder, which had medicinal powers.
Someday New France will extend all the way to Florida, all the way to the great river in the west. New France was a prize if England kept away.
They stood opposed on the nature of the forest. To Mari it was a living entity, as vital as the waterways, filled with the gifts of medicine, food, shelter, tool material, which everyone discovered and remembered. One lived with it in harmony and gratitude.
1693–1727
equatorial Doldrums
“We are a country of agriculture. You understand of course that land division is the base of all human government.”
“This is a country of scholars, poets and calligraphers,” said Wuqua, “and the four treasures are brush, paper, ink and inkstone, the necessities of calligraphy.
But nothing is everlasting. Nothing. Not forests, not mountains.”
She mourns the loss of woodland grottoes where certain plants once grew but are no more because of the industry of the settlers.
The marriage was celebrated with a wedding feast and drinking match that lasted for days. Captain Verdwijnen presented the couple with a splendid present of a set of silver vorks, the new eating implements.
“You are in a hurry with sons as in all else,” said the captain. “If you cannot wait until God grants your wish you might get some ready-made sons from the Weeshuis, that place of orphans... Duquet was excited by this idea of adopting ready-made sons.
Back in New France, which people more and more called Canada after the old Iroquois word kanata,
Duquet thought there were probably many like Forgeron but he only shrugged. The old days counted for very little.
The buggers are impervious to cold and heat and they bear pain as the Indians do, stoically and silently, even with relish.
Scratch some New England colonists, he thought, and you find Englishmen, as the bark of a tree hides inner rot.
“The children of one mother should be together. We have the same blood.”
I started out sort of liking it. We had a family vacation in Maine and stayed in some cabins called Micmac and had a really great time there (I highly recommend them--Micmac Farm Guesthouses and Gardner House (Machiasport, Maine) and so it was exciting hearing there were mikmaq indians because we thought the name of the cabins was so cute. And although the indian speak -- tonto speak as my son called it -- grated on my nerves, I sort of enjoyed the early how indians lived stuff.
But it was pretty clear pretty early on that Proulx read The Son and said to herself I can do that! And The Son was not a very good book so there was no need really to do it for Maine. This book is over 700 pages of nothing at all. Honestly no characters that you care about really and no stories that you get excited about. A lot of stories are alluded to that I would have rather read. She talks about the rich MikMaq storytelling tradition. In over 700 pages she somehow finds no space to tell any of these stories, any of which would have been more interesting than the stories that were told.
I don't mean to be mean, but the exercise of reading seemed more and more pointless as the book went on. It was just so flat. And why are the books I'm reading lately so bloated? Ferrante's series would have been twice as good at half the length. The Son would have been more tolerable without the awful Jeannie story line which Proulx repeats in Lavinia Duke and, once again, much much shorter. Shadow Country was a wonderful book and I loved every word and it deserved to be so long. But most authors these days don't seem to know the value of telling a good story well. all of these books lately suffer from gas. And please cut it out with the Indian speak. Little Big Man, The Son, and now Barkskins all suffer from Tonto talk. it is a real barrier between the reader and the story. You cringe as you are trying to read.
A lot of trees died for this book and it wasn't worth it.
But it was pretty clear pretty early on that Proulx read The Son and said to herself I can do that! And The Son was not a very good book so there was no need really to do it for Maine. This book is over 700 pages of nothing at all. Honestly no characters that you care about really and no stories that you get excited about. A lot of stories are alluded to that I would have rather read. She talks about the rich MikMaq storytelling tradition. In over 700 pages she somehow finds no space to tell any of these stories, any of which would have been more interesting than the stories that were told.
I don't mean to be mean, but the exercise of reading seemed more and more pointless as the book went on. It was just so flat. And why are the books I'm reading lately so bloated? Ferrante's series would have been twice as good at half the length. The Son would have been more tolerable without the awful Jeannie story line which Proulx repeats in Lavinia Duke and, once again, much much shorter. Shadow Country was a wonderful book and I loved every word and it deserved to be so long. But most authors these days don't seem to know the value of telling a good story well. all of these books lately suffer from gas. And please cut it out with the Indian speak. Little Big Man, The Son, and now Barkskins all suffer from Tonto talk. it is a real barrier between the reader and the story. You cringe as you are trying to read.
A lot of trees died for this book and it wasn't worth it.
I finished all 713 pages. Ms. Proulx is clearly a good writer, there's remarkable descriptions and admirable alliteration scattered throughout, so what's the problem? The plot is unbearably dull with chronic exposition and unlikable characters without characterization loosely connected through the never-ending generations of this tale.
I've read a few generational stories, Chesapeake by James Michener, Phillip Meyer's The Son, Beverly Swerling's City of Dreams, to name a few... it's not my favorite style of story so I'm unsure why I keep picking them up. This was probably the worst so far, the characters have little raw connection to their ancestors and it's often a cold start heading into the next generation. There's more characters in this novel than any book I've ever read, it's an endless barrage of new names and it's horribly confusing making the reader not want to pick it up again. Lavinia's story sticks out the most but she's awfully cliché and predictable.
There is far too much exposition for 713 pages, up until the very last page Proulx is beating you over the head with it, p. 705 On the pages she passed out Felix saw a jumble of new words-glacial till, ferro-humic podzols, Proterozoic intrusives, gleysols, fibrisols. He was excited by the names of the soils. This was real knowledge. - who cares?! I wanted to read a fiction story with an exciting plot, not about fibrisols. The descriptions of the different saws used across the ages are admirably researched but it puts you to sleep.
Where is the plot? In one generation we're in China, twice later we're in New Zealand for reasons seemingly desperate to mend any semblance of an exciting story together. It seems Ms. Proulx didn't even know where to take the arcs so why should the reader? There's some memorable scenes, bear cub in the pond during the wildfire, Mi'kmaw killing a house cat, but sadly scenes alone don't make a story. A third of the way through I was hoping it would get better, after halfway I was lost on sunk-cost fallacy, three-fourths of the way I was really hating this chore and just wanted it to end.
I'm left wondering who is the real character here - the people themselves, the Duke company, or the forest? All are left undefined. This could have been miles better with deeper characterizations, an enticing plot, or even a melancholic point of view from the forest itself.
I'm sorry, I wanted to like it but I just didn't. I'm questioning if Ms. Proulx's past novels weren't attached to this book would it have gained any traction at all? Save yourself the time and read Dr. Seuss' The Lorax, it's the same message but much shorter with a stronger emotional appeal.
I've read a few generational stories, Chesapeake by James Michener, Phillip Meyer's The Son, Beverly Swerling's City of Dreams, to name a few... it's not my favorite style of story so I'm unsure why I keep picking them up. This was probably the worst so far, the characters have little raw connection to their ancestors and it's often a cold start heading into the next generation. There's more characters in this novel than any book I've ever read, it's an endless barrage of new names and it's horribly confusing making the reader not want to pick it up again. Lavinia's story sticks out the most but she's awfully cliché and predictable.
There is far too much exposition for 713 pages, up until the very last page Proulx is beating you over the head with it, p. 705 On the pages she passed out Felix saw a jumble of new words-glacial till, ferro-humic podzols, Proterozoic intrusives, gleysols, fibrisols. He was excited by the names of the soils. This was real knowledge. - who cares?! I wanted to read a fiction story with an exciting plot, not about fibrisols. The descriptions of the different saws used across the ages are admirably researched but it puts you to sleep.
Where is the plot? In one generation we're in China, twice later we're in New Zealand for reasons seemingly desperate to mend any semblance of an exciting story together. It seems Ms. Proulx didn't even know where to take the arcs so why should the reader? There's some memorable scenes, bear cub in the pond during the wildfire, Mi'kmaw killing a house cat, but sadly scenes alone don't make a story. A third of the way through I was hoping it would get better, after halfway I was lost on sunk-cost fallacy, three-fourths of the way I was really hating this chore and just wanted it to end.
I'm left wondering who is the real character here - the people themselves, the Duke company, or the forest? All are left undefined. This could have been miles better with deeper characterizations, an enticing plot, or even a melancholic point of view from the forest itself.
I'm sorry, I wanted to like it but I just didn't. I'm questioning if Ms. Proulx's past novels weren't attached to this book would it have gained any traction at all? Save yourself the time and read Dr. Seuss' The Lorax, it's the same message but much shorter with a stronger emotional appeal.
A huge reward for sticking with it despite uncertainty in the first 200 pages. This book TOOK OFF for me once I learned to commit the names to memory and check the family trees at the back of the book. Included a bit of everything: well-researched history, dissections of the impacts of colonialism and capitalism, championing of conservation, and lots of words that I had to look up in the dictionary. Loved it.
En kæmpe bog, der følger to familiers liv gennem generationerne østpå i USA, lige fra de allerførste settlers og op til det moderne USAs fødsel. Familierne lever af træerne/skovene, og det er helt klart et af Proulx' ærinder at få os til at forstå, hvor frygteligt det er, at næsten al skov er forsvundet i USA. Altså ikke fra et naturromantisk synspunkt, men fordi det ødelægger store, der ikke er tilplantet med ny skov og ikke er ordentlig landbrugsjord.
Jeg synes måske ikke, vi rigtigt kommer ind under huden på de forskellige pa/matriarker i familierne, men det er nok også svært, når man skal nå så mange på "kun" 700 sider.
I hvert fald er det amerikansk historie fortalt på en lidt anderledes måde, end vi er vant til.
Jeg synes måske ikke, vi rigtigt kommer ind under huden på de forskellige pa/matriarker i familierne, men det er nok også svært, når man skal nå så mange på "kun" 700 sider.
I hvert fald er det amerikansk historie fortalt på en lidt anderledes måde, end vi er vant til.
I listened to this book. It was hard to follow/care about the characters-seemingly rich entitled characters that got away-with a tepid connection to forests. I think I missed the connection/explanation of the title.
My problem is that I really wanted to like this book - I appreciate Proulx’ work, generally enjoyed two other books I have read (though I read „Brokeback Mountain” and “The Shipping News” in original language, whereas this one I am reading in Polish, and maybe that’s also a big factor). The book’s problem is that I don’t think it’s one where you are exp to like the story. At about 250 (?) pages, I checked the mark on read, because for now it is - but I do hope to change my mind or maybe, mature enough, to pick up my reading in month or two. I was really excited about it, after reading that it’s about ecological issues and it stretches for couple of generations; seemed interesting at time, especially because I enjoy books just about someone’s normal life, their family and how those familial bonds and relationships place in the world - not just big events or major traumas. And it satisfied my nosiness, that it was about generations and generations of two families. It may sound crazy, but for that long of a story, I feel like the descriptions are too short, too general, and I looked forward to them. My another problem is with the number of characters: while stories about just Sel and Duke had nice pace, and you still got to understand their motivations (although Duke’s greed for money seemed a bit shallow and not exploited in their fullest for me, especially because it seemed so easy for him to get so much, but I am no expert at business and trading in his times so) - storylines of their kids generation were awful to read. I could not get the impression that Achille was made to be this amazing hero, nothing but skills and courage, just the perfect man. And in that making, it lost itself sincerity, for me to not be devastated by his loss of wife and children. Too much of it was just naming people - who married who, who died, who showed someone something, who was born. I can’t even remember the name of Achille wife and son, can’t recall who Noë had a child with (tw!!! but I hated the description of sexual assault that she was a victim of, and then her falling in love with the oppressor; while I understood that the sentiment was one of the times, there still needed, in my opinion, to be some explanation, some follow-through her change of mind, or rather traumatic response. Especially because we got to understand she is actively scared of it, as she was irritated just by the thought that her sibling left, and she was alone in their house. It’s not a big plot point, just a couple of sentences, but they stuck with me. ). In general: I didn’t connect to the characters, and I wanted to - they go on excursion to Mik’ma’ki, but the community they longed for doesn’t seem as important as I have hoped. They’re there and that’s all I can say about them, because the dynamic of this group of people feels cold. I think that is the best word for me to describe how it felt reading this part of the book - cold and impersonal.
After that I’ll be honest, I just kind of skimmed through the pages and finally gave up - that’s of course, wrongdoing on my part. While this review may sound harsh, I enjoyed the start of this story. I really enjoyed getting to know both Sel and Duke, the differences between them were a great contrast. The premise of main problems, global warming, reflected in the state of forest also sounds enticing and, which is more important, educational. I hope to go back to lecture the moment I forget most of what I read, so I can still focus on whatever is said and not go straight back to where I left. Lately I was reading a lot of “easier” books, and ones that were shorter, so that also may be one of the factors. To sum it up, I just thought this story cold and too cramped with characters, but a great one nonetheless. Probably should get the English version.
After that I’ll be honest, I just kind of skimmed through the pages and finally gave up - that’s of course, wrongdoing on my part. While this review may sound harsh, I enjoyed the start of this story. I really enjoyed getting to know both Sel and Duke, the differences between them were a great contrast. The premise of main problems, global warming, reflected in the state of forest also sounds enticing and, which is more important, educational. I hope to go back to lecture the moment I forget most of what I read, so I can still focus on whatever is said and not go straight back to where I left. Lately I was reading a lot of “easier” books, and ones that were shorter, so that also may be one of the factors. To sum it up, I just thought this story cold and too cramped with characters, but a great one nonetheless. Probably should get the English version.
informative
medium-paced
Plot or Character Driven:
A mix
Strong character development:
No
Loveable characters:
No
Diverse cast of characters:
Yes
Flaws of characters a main focus:
Complicated
I found it interesting but too many characters and too much time covered.
Annie Proulx war mir schon lange als hochrangige kanadische Schriftstellerin bekannt, von der ich gerne mal etwas lesen mochte, und dann stand „Barkskins“ auf der Longlist des Women’s Prize for Fiction. Ich hatte das Buch zeitnah gekauft und es dann fünf Jahre auf meinem SuB schmachten lassen. Im Rahmen der Rache des SuB-Challenge habe ich es nun endlich gelesen und es war genau mein Ding. Eine multi-generational family saga, ein opulenter und doch seriöser historischer Roman mit ökologischer Botschaft und Anprangerung des Schicksals vieler Angehöriger der First Nations bzw. Native Americans bis zum heutigen Zeitpunkt. Ausgang nimmt der Roman mit zwei aus Frankreich nach Kanada ausgewanderten Holzfällern, deren Nachfahren völlig unterschiedliche Lebenswege gehen, der eine gründet mit einer indigen Frau eine Familie, der zweite schafft den sozialen und wirtschaftlichen Aufstieg im Holzbusiness. Hat mir sehr, sehr gut gefallen und empfehle ich unbedingt weiter. Inzwischen gibt es sogar eine auf dem Buch beruhende TV-Serie, die auf dem National Geographic Channel zu sehen ist (werde mich gleich mal informieren, wie der zu empfangen ist.)