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3.24 AVERAGE
3.24 AVERAGE
The story meanders and introduces random fantastical elements, as if it were written for children - as if Shel Silverstein and Neil Gaiman got together to write this book.
I don't know, maybe that kind of thing appeals to you. Here's an example so you can judge for yourself. Note that all of the people in the scene are adults.
Tamar knocked off the estate agent’s turban with her umbrella and Margot pulled off the wig the estate agent was wearing beneath the turban. There was another wig beneath the first wig, and Tamar or Margot would have pulled that off too, but Miss Maszkeradi saw which way things were going and fled into the woods, sending Tamar an email a few hours later to say that she was back in London and understood their feelings toward her but would nevertheless be sending an invoice for a replacement turban and wig.
I don't know, maybe that kind of thing appeals to you. Here's an example so you can judge for yourself. Note that all of the people in the scene are adults.
Tamar knocked off the estate agent’s turban with her umbrella and Margot pulled off the wig the estate agent was wearing beneath the turban. There was another wig beneath the first wig, and Tamar or Margot would have pulled that off too, but Miss Maszkeradi saw which way things were going and fled into the woods, sending Tamar an email a few hours later to say that she was back in London and understood their feelings toward her but would nevertheless be sending an invoice for a replacement turban and wig.
Oyeyemi's story is baked with liberal amounts of intrigue, quirkiness, and family themes and iced with imaginative bits of a gingerbread story cut to pieces and reassembled in novel ways.
Harriet Lee and her daughter, Perdita, factor prominently into the story's texture. Despite the strangeness of the exotic, nearly unreachable native land of Harriet, there are moments when it seems an all-too-familiar mirror of current economic disparities. The details bring the story to life, from the magical realism of the house that has floors that can be moved at will to the carrier pigeons traversing the realm between London and Druhastrana to the set of dolls that have names reminiscent of the plants growing out of them. There are snippets of Hansel & Gretel baked into the story, but it is hardly a retelling.
Oyeyemi's emphasis is on character rather than plot, so there are a few places where I was left yearning for more. While I listened to the majority of the book, I often had to refer to the written copy to clear up confusing aspects, particularly where the dolls entered the conversation. The language is both melodious, opening doors to wordplay pleasures, and unsettling, hinting at harrowing experiences and malicious dreams. And all this is built on the foundation of a gingerbread baked habitually and seductively, even malevolently at times, a gingerbread that is as much a prison for the heart and stomach as the storied gingerbread house was a sugary prison for Hansel & Gretel.
The story is a cerebral, feminist tale of struggle, entrapment, and independence.
Harriet Lee and her daughter, Perdita, factor prominently into the story's texture. Despite the strangeness of the exotic, nearly unreachable native land of Harriet, there are moments when it seems an all-too-familiar mirror of current economic disparities. The details bring the story to life, from the magical realism of the house that has floors that can be moved at will to the carrier pigeons traversing the realm between London and Druhastrana to the set of dolls that have names reminiscent of the plants growing out of them. There are snippets of Hansel & Gretel baked into the story, but it is hardly a retelling.
Oyeyemi's emphasis is on character rather than plot, so there are a few places where I was left yearning for more. While I listened to the majority of the book, I often had to refer to the written copy to clear up confusing aspects, particularly where the dolls entered the conversation. The language is both melodious, opening doors to wordplay pleasures, and unsettling, hinting at harrowing experiences and malicious dreams. And all this is built on the foundation of a gingerbread baked habitually and seductively, even malevolently at times, a gingerbread that is as much a prison for the heart and stomach as the storied gingerbread house was a sugary prison for Hansel & Gretel.
The story is a cerebral, feminist tale of struggle, entrapment, and independence.
4.5, rounded up.
I can see why this isn't everyone's cup of tea. It's associative, with magical elements, somewhat nonlinear. I loved it! I found the characters from Helen's generation really rich and imaginative. I loved the dialog, the folk tale feeling, and the lushness of the narrative. I ended up reading a chapter per night as a bedtime story, savoring it.
I can see why this isn't everyone's cup of tea. It's associative, with magical elements, somewhat nonlinear. I loved it! I found the characters from Helen's generation really rich and imaginative. I loved the dialog, the folk tale feeling, and the lushness of the narrative. I ended up reading a chapter per night as a bedtime story, savoring it.
This book was probably the strangest I've ever read. The writing is a bit convoluted, but, by the midpoint, you get the flow of her writing and it becomes more enjoyable to read.
I actually really liked it but the ending felt very inconclusive and confusing. Which is disappointing, I really loved the way this book played with the line between real and unreal.
I couldn't get through this one. The shifting plot and stilted writing made it difficult to follow along. Was disappointed after all the hype, although I'm sure it will appeal to other readers.
This was all over the place. My main problem is that that the author is so caught up in trying to make her descriptions and turns of phrases whimsical, that what she’s actually trying to convey is getting lost. She also did a lot of telling the reader how characters felt instead of the characters just showing us naturally. I felt like we barely stayed in any scene lead by any kind of dialogue. We’d get a sentence or two then we had to suffer through more endless prose.
As for the actual story, it meandered for practically the entire book. It’s like the author had so many ideas that she was married to so she shoehorned it all in despite none of it fitting together. Pick a story and stick with it all the way through! There were so many partially formed characters that it was impossible to keep track. We’d just jump from location to location with no explanation. There were all these side stories that read as annoyingly long tangents. I couldn’t give a comprehensive summary if I tried. This was such a mess I honestly would have given up on this if I wasn’t reading it with friends.
As for the actual story, it meandered for practically the entire book. It’s like the author had so many ideas that she was married to so she shoehorned it all in despite none of it fitting together. Pick a story and stick with it all the way through! There were so many partially formed characters that it was impossible to keep track. We’d just jump from location to location with no explanation. There were all these side stories that read as annoyingly long tangents. I couldn’t give a comprehensive summary if I tried. This was such a mess I honestly would have given up on this if I wasn’t reading it with friends.
"Rays of platinum crossed beams of dingy plaster. The dimensions of their room deepened. As they painted, Harriet made an attempt to ask a question via telepathy. She would have loved to know why Margot went on dragging her daughter all over the place in the name of some better way of life that probably didn't even exist, doing this in the full knowledge that said daughter had no other special needs aside from that of being where her mother was." - Gingerbread, Helen Oyeyemi
This loose retelling of Hansel and Gretel begins when Harriet finds her teenage daughter Perdita nearly dead after imbibing some of her mother's gingerbread and an unknown substance. When she awakes, she claims to have visited her mother and grandmother Margot's home country of Druhástrana - a country described by Wikipedia as "a likely purely mythical land." While Perdita recovers, Harriet tells a long bedtime story to her daughter and a chorus of talking dolls about growing up as a gingerbread factory girl in a country of ambiguous borders, her strange flight to England via distantly related benefactors, and the subsequent making and breaking and re-making of a new family.
Gingerbread captures the flighty illogic, gruesome consequences, and unsettling strangeness of fairytales without directly replicating any one story. Frankly - there were parts that did not make sense. But at its core, it is a story of immigration and adjusting to a place so drastically different from where you have been; of family relationships and their rapid shifts between closeness and enmity, all while remaining bound to one another; and of secrets and exploitation, where factories own girls paid by fake money and the origins of wealth, children, and houses alike are shrouded. I absolutely loved this book. I found it to be funny, charming, illuminating, and surprising in equal parts (although I do understand the mixed reviews. Again: the plot often did not make sense). I especially enjoyed the audiobook read by the author and can see myself returning to this short, strange story again and again. 5/5 stars.
Read with: [b:The Changeling|31147267|The Changeling|Victor LaValle|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1492886432l/31147267._SY75_.jpg|51777682] if you're into the 'fairytale embedded into real life with high stakes for mother and child' and/or [b:White Teeth|3711|White Teeth|Zadie Smith|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1374739885l/3711._SY75_.jpg|7480] if you like your British immigrant family stories with only a dash less suspension of disbelief.
This loose retelling of Hansel and Gretel begins when Harriet finds her teenage daughter Perdita nearly dead after imbibing some of her mother's gingerbread and an unknown substance. When she awakes, she claims to have visited her mother and grandmother Margot's home country of Druhástrana - a country described by Wikipedia as "a likely purely mythical land." While Perdita recovers, Harriet tells a long bedtime story to her daughter and a chorus of talking dolls about growing up as a gingerbread factory girl in a country of ambiguous borders, her strange flight to England via distantly related benefactors, and the subsequent making and breaking and re-making of a new family.
Gingerbread captures the flighty illogic, gruesome consequences, and unsettling strangeness of fairytales without directly replicating any one story. Frankly - there were parts that did not make sense. But at its core, it is a story of immigration and adjusting to a place so drastically different from where you have been; of family relationships and their rapid shifts between closeness and enmity, all while remaining bound to one another; and of secrets and exploitation, where factories own girls paid by fake money and the origins of wealth, children, and houses alike are shrouded. I absolutely loved this book. I found it to be funny, charming, illuminating, and surprising in equal parts (although I do understand the mixed reviews. Again: the plot often did not make sense). I especially enjoyed the audiobook read by the author and can see myself returning to this short, strange story again and again. 5/5 stars.
Read with: [b:The Changeling|31147267|The Changeling|Victor LaValle|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1492886432l/31147267._SY75_.jpg|51777682] if you're into the 'fairytale embedded into real life with high stakes for mother and child' and/or [b:White Teeth|3711|White Teeth|Zadie Smith|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1374739885l/3711._SY75_.jpg|7480] if you like your British immigrant family stories with only a dash less suspension of disbelief.
Safe to say that the cover was the best part