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daviddavidkatzman's review against another edition
5.0
[I'm bringing back this review in support of author Charles Lambert's new novel A View from the Tower.]
The words fall away until only the story is left behind. I’m often a fan of authors who generate pyrotechnics with words—like Williams S. Burroughs and Martin Amis (at his best). At the other end of the spectrum are writers who call attention to the words they select, trying to describe situations with brute force. British author Charles Lambert uses words that serve the story, never forcing a clever turn of phrase just for the sake of it. Rather, he brings you into the characters’ worlds through voice and detailed descriptions.
The short stories in The Scent of Cinnamon are exquisite little gems. It rather makes sense that Lambert’s latest novel is a literary thriller because these stories feel like mysteries. Not whodunit mysteries, mysteries of life. I sense the stories trying to work out the enigmatic. And many of them have surprise endings. Twists you don’t expect. Often unexpected character actions that, once they take place, cause the rest of the story to fall into place. Ahhh, that was what was going on. Other times, there is no resolution, no bow tie. Sometimes the stories are surreal, like dark magical-realism; other times they are raw in their reality. Some occur in the distant past, others in the present. Even if the genres are not consistent between the stories, I found them linked by both the constant quest to understand human nature (which sometimes ends with a shrug—we must accept that we’ll never understand most things), and by the authorial voice, which, as I said, is rather self-effacing but very precise. Careful and methodical. The character voices are convincing. Many of the narrators are children, providing an outsider view of the crimes of adults.
I will admit to an occasional head-scratching ending. But I’m okay with that—mysteries are not always meant to be solved.
The primary reason I don’t like short stories is that when I do like them, I don’t want them to end. My favorite in this collection, All Gone, was like that: I could’ve kept living in the world of this story for a good time longer. Even so, it was satisfying, as it felt Lambert packed a small space with a lot of experience. Set in 1965, All Gone is the story of a young boy, whose mother opens up a sundry shop in a rather blue-collar bit of England. Lambert does an amazing job of conjuring a sense of the people in this place and time. A slice of life story that feels nostalgic and yet integrates elements of class and economic critique effortlessly.
The Scent of Cinnamon will absolutely appeal to short story fans and might even sway a few, like myself, who normally avoid the medium. I enjoyed this collection so much that I’m now moving on to Lambert’s newest book [b:Any Human Face|6789444|Any Human Face|Charles Lambert|https://d202m5krfqbpi5.cloudfront.net/books/1267780852s/6789444.jpg|6993053].
The words fall away until only the story is left behind. I’m often a fan of authors who generate pyrotechnics with words—like Williams S. Burroughs and Martin Amis (at his best). At the other end of the spectrum are writers who call attention to the words they select, trying to describe situations with brute force. British author Charles Lambert uses words that serve the story, never forcing a clever turn of phrase just for the sake of it. Rather, he brings you into the characters’ worlds through voice and detailed descriptions.
The short stories in The Scent of Cinnamon are exquisite little gems. It rather makes sense that Lambert’s latest novel is a literary thriller because these stories feel like mysteries. Not whodunit mysteries, mysteries of life. I sense the stories trying to work out the enigmatic. And many of them have surprise endings. Twists you don’t expect. Often unexpected character actions that, once they take place, cause the rest of the story to fall into place. Ahhh, that was what was going on. Other times, there is no resolution, no bow tie. Sometimes the stories are surreal, like dark magical-realism; other times they are raw in their reality. Some occur in the distant past, others in the present. Even if the genres are not consistent between the stories, I found them linked by both the constant quest to understand human nature (which sometimes ends with a shrug—we must accept that we’ll never understand most things), and by the authorial voice, which, as I said, is rather self-effacing but very precise. Careful and methodical. The character voices are convincing. Many of the narrators are children, providing an outsider view of the crimes of adults.
I will admit to an occasional head-scratching ending. But I’m okay with that—mysteries are not always meant to be solved.
The primary reason I don’t like short stories is that when I do like them, I don’t want them to end. My favorite in this collection, All Gone, was like that: I could’ve kept living in the world of this story for a good time longer. Even so, it was satisfying, as it felt Lambert packed a small space with a lot of experience. Set in 1965, All Gone is the story of a young boy, whose mother opens up a sundry shop in a rather blue-collar bit of England. Lambert does an amazing job of conjuring a sense of the people in this place and time. A slice of life story that feels nostalgic and yet integrates elements of class and economic critique effortlessly.
The Scent of Cinnamon will absolutely appeal to short story fans and might even sway a few, like myself, who normally avoid the medium. I enjoyed this collection so much that I’m now moving on to Lambert’s newest book [b:Any Human Face|6789444|Any Human Face|Charles Lambert|https://d202m5krfqbpi5.cloudfront.net/books/1267780852s/6789444.jpg|6993053].
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