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3.68 AVERAGE
3.68 AVERAGE
I liked how in the end, you realize how interconnected all of the stories are. At times, I enjoyed the fast pace of the story that throws you into the middle, but it was frustrating at times to have to piece together details and still not really understand what was going on. The stories were also pretty depressing.
“This turning away from things must end, brother. You have an obligation to live. You have an obligation to go on with your journey, to see the worth of the terrible price you’ve paid.”
What a lovely read. This book is proof that you don't need a complex style to make your writing brilliant. The simplicity of this book, infact, brings out its emotional intensity in a much better way.
emotional
hopeful
reflective
fast-paced
Plot or Character Driven:
Character
Strong character development:
Yes
Loveable characters:
Yes
Diverse cast of characters:
Yes
The chapters were mostly very short, which made it easy to read and also easy to put down. Some sentences dragged on over half a page, and in the end I hadn't quite connected with the characters. I would've loved to like this book more than I did, but I didn't.
I haven't read other works by Ryan, so I am not familiar with his typical writing style. This book is told in four sections -- the first being from the POV of Farouk, the second from Lampy, the third is John. The fourth section ties the seemingly disparate characters into an interlocking ending. Looking at some reviews, it seems like some are not thrilled with the first section of the book, told from the POV of Farouk, a Syrian man trying to leave with his wife & child during the civil war; apparently some like Ryan sticking with Irish characters.... Maybe that has been his bread & butter so far? I actually liked Farouk's section best. Lampy's section was fine but too long. John's was foul yet compelling in a train-wreck kind of way.
Even so, to me, all the characters felt really distant. It is well-written, but I didn't fully connect with the characters or their stories. I'm on the fence. It's good enough, but not especially gripping. The start pulled me in but I felt it fizzled out the further it progressed. It's decent but not memorable or especially deep. With a Booker nomination, I had hoped for more. Feeling a little disappointed, but I would still give it a solid three stars.
Even so, to me, all the characters felt really distant. It is well-written, but I didn't fully connect with the characters or their stories. I'm on the fence. It's good enough, but not especially gripping. The start pulled me in but I felt it fizzled out the further it progressed. It's decent but not memorable or especially deep. With a Booker nomination, I had hoped for more. Feeling a little disappointed, but I would still give it a solid three stars.
‘What’s in the past can’t be changed and what’s to come can’t be known and you can’t give your life to worrying.’
Three men, three separate narratives, separate but similar journeys. Farouk is a doctor, a refugee who has fled war-torn Syria, Lampy is a broken-hearted young Irishman living with his unmarried mother and grandfather, and John is an old man, looking back on his life. Each of the stories unfolds, and the three are drawn together at the end.
I read of Farouk’s flight and tragic losses, of Lampy’s memories of the past and hopes for the future, of the events and choices in John’s past. Each of the men is scarred by his experiences, each is searching for his own space, his own place to call home. Can Farouk find happiness in a new life? Can Lampy live in the present? And where does John’s story fit?
And now I have finished the novel, I marvel at the way in which Mr Ryan creates these separate men, their worlds and concerns yet is able to demonstrate (in so few pages) common concerns and a connection. While I did not need the connection to enjoy the novel (I am still thinking about choices and consequences), the connection made the story even more satisfying.
Jennifer Cameron-Smith
Three men, three separate narratives, separate but similar journeys. Farouk is a doctor, a refugee who has fled war-torn Syria, Lampy is a broken-hearted young Irishman living with his unmarried mother and grandfather, and John is an old man, looking back on his life. Each of the stories unfolds, and the three are drawn together at the end.
I read of Farouk’s flight and tragic losses, of Lampy’s memories of the past and hopes for the future, of the events and choices in John’s past. Each of the men is scarred by his experiences, each is searching for his own space, his own place to call home. Can Farouk find happiness in a new life? Can Lampy live in the present? And where does John’s story fit?
And now I have finished the novel, I marvel at the way in which Mr Ryan creates these separate men, their worlds and concerns yet is able to demonstrate (in so few pages) common concerns and a connection. While I did not need the connection to enjoy the novel (I am still thinking about choices and consequences), the connection made the story even more satisfying.
Jennifer Cameron-Smith
4.5 stars!
I've had trouble reviewing this book because it has a strange beauty that is difficult to describe. The long, lilting sentences fill this book with elegance and the characters are among the best I've read this year: both complex and realistic in such a small space of time. Even minor characters (like the old man Farouk meets in the first few pages) seems tangible in a way that characters rarely are. Each character's story is told differently, but with the same beautiful introspection on love and loss and home. The final 30 pages, in which the three distinct narratives are profoundly drawn together, cements this as a stunning achievement. Quiet but powerful, this is one of my favourites for the Booker.
I've had trouble reviewing this book because it has a strange beauty that is difficult to describe. The long, lilting sentences fill this book with elegance and the characters are among the best I've read this year: both complex and realistic in such a small space of time. Even minor characters (like the old man Farouk meets in the first few pages) seems tangible in a way that characters rarely are. Each character's story is told differently, but with the same beautiful introspection on love and loss and home. The final 30 pages, in which the three distinct narratives are profoundly drawn together, cements this as a stunning achievement. Quiet but powerful, this is one of my favourites for the Booker.
Wunderschöner Schreibstil, aber trotzdem konnte ich nie so ganz in die Geschichte abtauchen.
reflective