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3.42 AVERAGE
3.42 AVERAGE
medium-paced
Plot or Character Driven:
Character
Strong character development:
Complicated
Loveable characters:
No
Diverse cast of characters:
Yes
Flaws of characters a main focus:
Yes
I thought that the concept of the book was interesting, but the writing itself is pretty slow-paced (for me, at least). The book views one person from the perspective of 9 other people who have loved her. Except, most of these perspectives come from a pace of lust and it got boring for me really fast because they were all so similar to each other and I didn't find anything new there. Especially when I got to the second half, the relationship patterns were all the same and it got very predictable how each chapter would end. The concept is nice, but I would've preferred different types of love to be explored, instead of the stereotypical cishet romantic/sexual love.
Janice Pariat’s the Nine Chambered Heart has left me with mixed feelings. It has not made to the list of my favorites but at the same time has left me asking for more. More on the protagonist, more on her life in the cities, more on these men she loved or were in love with.
Read more - http://storytellersworld.tumblr.com/
Read more - http://storytellersworld.tumblr.com/
emotional
reflective
fast-paced
Plot or Character Driven:
Character
Strong character development:
Complicated
Loveable characters:
Complicated
Diverse cast of characters:
Yes
Flaws of characters a main focus:
Yes
reflective
slow-paced
Plot or Character Driven:
Character
Strong character development:
Complicated
Loveable characters:
No
Diverse cast of characters:
Yes
Flaws of characters a main focus:
Yes
relaxing
medium-paced
Plot or Character Driven:
Character
Strong character development:
No
Loveable characters:
No
Diverse cast of characters:
Complicated
Flaws of characters a main focus:
Yes
I kind of liked this one. I mostly hated it, though. Not because it's badly written, but because I've always had trouble with hopeless narratives; what is the point of something almost only sad? Perhaps I imposed too much of my own feelings and experiences on this book. And even if that is the point, what I got out of it was a bunch of really not nice people almost glamourising their own pain and the pain they inflict on other people.
But okay. I definitely felt something. More than a little something. And if that isn't the mark of a strong writer, I don't know what is.
But okay. I definitely felt something. More than a little something. And if that isn't the mark of a strong writer, I don't know what is.
Saudade – A deep emotional state of nostalgic or profound melancholic longing for an absent something or someone that one cares for and/or loves. Often carries a repressed knowledge that the object of longing might never be had again.
To begin with, I can’t remember the last time I highlighted the opening paragraphs of a novel completely. It might have been Shantaram, which I read three years ago. This book is about nine characters who recall their relationship with a woman and how what we know of her is shaped through the prism of the perspective of others. The opening chapter ‘The Saint’ is by her art teacher who taught her when she was twelve.
"YOU ARE TWELVE, and you loathe me.
In my class, you refuse to paint, because you think your pictures are ugly. And I try and tell you, like every good teacher must, regardless of whether I believe it or not, that you’ll improve with practice. You disagree. It infuriates you that there’s something you can’t immediately do, like a maths sum, or a science experiment. This is art, I tell you, but I can see you’re a scientific artist. If there is such a thing.
The other children huddle around tables, painting and sketching in wild abandon. A few are truly accomplished. You are not one of them. Their hands move instinctively across canvas and paper, guided by some unseen spirit. Although I have a sorrowful feeling that this is the only time in their lives they will ‘do’ art. And that they will grow up and plunge into vocations that do not call for beauty."
I like a lot of things here, things that are a precursor to how the rest of the book is. I like how honest this narrator is about the lies he must tell as a good teacher. I like how stark the writing is; the teacher who is able to identify child artists, sadly, also knows that they won’t grow up to be one. And in two paragraphs, the difficulty he has in getting through to her is portrayed.
The Saint on its own is a five star read for me, especially because of the way it wraps up. This is true for most of the rest of the chapters I read so far as well – the last couple of paragraphs of each story often turns out to be a good payoff (not in terms of a major twist or anything, but more like the beauty of hearkening back to themes or symbolism explored and tying them up in such a way as to often end up tugging certain strings).
The Nine Chambered Heart is at its heart (forgive the pun), an ode to love. An ode penned in lyrical prose dripped in beauty, and tinged with melancholy. An ode to the kind of love that can be best described by the Portuguese word Saudade (definition at the beginning). The “object of longing” however isn’t the woman that each of the narrator loved or was loved by, but rather her longing to not be abandoned. Or at least that’s how I see it.
This longing stemmed from having been born to parents who were too busy to parent – something we discover only through the glimmers of those who recall her. This childhood void comes up in the periphery of multiple narrators’ recollections. What is occasionally tragic is how this void of love ends up as a vacuum that prevents her from reaching out to the ones she loves too. And I liked that.
This is one of those books which readers would end up either liking a lot or not liking at all. I was really enamored by succinct phrases that captured a lot of emotion despite their brevity. And because I’m a fan of such quotable lines in prose, I was really moved by a lot of portions. But then, I also couldn’t help feel that despite the narrators being different, their tones were often similar. This was a book that I wanted to like a lot, one whose magic I didn’t want to lose. And for that to happen, I had to savor the book slowly, rather than at one go.
So I took a break before reading the final four narrators. I ended up appreciating the final phase better that way. Throughout the final chapters, I was wondering if this was a four or five star read. Being a sucker for arcs and themes, the last line of the book - 'And - I'm certain of it - you will leave me behind' floored me. Because finally the leavee had become a leaver. Like most of the chapters, this had a solid ending, except this time, the arc encompassed the entire book and not just the chapter.
To begin with, I can’t remember the last time I highlighted the opening paragraphs of a novel completely. It might have been Shantaram, which I read three years ago. This book is about nine characters who recall their relationship with a woman and how what we know of her is shaped through the prism of the perspective of others. The opening chapter ‘The Saint’ is by her art teacher who taught her when she was twelve.
"YOU ARE TWELVE, and you loathe me.
In my class, you refuse to paint, because you think your pictures are ugly. And I try and tell you, like every good teacher must, regardless of whether I believe it or not, that you’ll improve with practice. You disagree. It infuriates you that there’s something you can’t immediately do, like a maths sum, or a science experiment. This is art, I tell you, but I can see you’re a scientific artist. If there is such a thing.
The other children huddle around tables, painting and sketching in wild abandon. A few are truly accomplished. You are not one of them. Their hands move instinctively across canvas and paper, guided by some unseen spirit. Although I have a sorrowful feeling that this is the only time in their lives they will ‘do’ art. And that they will grow up and plunge into vocations that do not call for beauty."
I like a lot of things here, things that are a precursor to how the rest of the book is. I like how honest this narrator is about the lies he must tell as a good teacher. I like how stark the writing is; the teacher who is able to identify child artists, sadly, also knows that they won’t grow up to be one. And in two paragraphs, the difficulty he has in getting through to her is portrayed.
The Saint on its own is a five star read for me, especially because of the way it wraps up. This is true for most of the rest of the chapters I read so far as well – the last couple of paragraphs of each story often turns out to be a good payoff (not in terms of a major twist or anything, but more like the beauty of hearkening back to themes or symbolism explored and tying them up in such a way as to often end up tugging certain strings).
The Nine Chambered Heart is at its heart (forgive the pun), an ode to love. An ode penned in lyrical prose dripped in beauty, and tinged with melancholy. An ode to the kind of love that can be best described by the Portuguese word Saudade (definition at the beginning). The “object of longing” however isn’t the woman that each of the narrator loved or was loved by, but rather her longing to not be abandoned. Or at least that’s how I see it.
This longing stemmed from having been born to parents who were too busy to parent – something we discover only through the glimmers of those who recall her. This childhood void comes up in the periphery of multiple narrators’ recollections. What is occasionally tragic is how this void of love ends up as a vacuum that prevents her from reaching out to the ones she loves too. And I liked that.
This is one of those books which readers would end up either liking a lot or not liking at all. I was really enamored by succinct phrases that captured a lot of emotion despite their brevity. And because I’m a fan of such quotable lines in prose, I was really moved by a lot of portions. But then, I also couldn’t help feel that despite the narrators being different, their tones were often similar. This was a book that I wanted to like a lot, one whose magic I didn’t want to lose. And for that to happen, I had to savor the book slowly, rather than at one go.
So I took a break before reading the final four narrators. I ended up appreciating the final phase better that way. Throughout the final chapters, I was wondering if this was a four or five star read. Being a sucker for arcs and themes, the last line of the book - 'And - I'm certain of it - you will leave me behind' floored me. Because finally the leavee had become a leaver. Like most of the chapters, this had a solid ending, except this time, the arc encompassed the entire book and not just the chapter.
Full disclosure - Janice Pariat is one of my favourite writers, and I absolutely adore everything she writes. The Nine-Chambered Heart is no different, so read this review knowing this is less a review than a testament to my love for her work.
This book holds within its pages, if you'll forgive the pun, a beating heart. The mystery woman at the centre of this tome is never named, never firmly located, and never given a voice. She's a wandering soul who is immensely flawed, but also immensely loved. And these are the nine perspectives we come across in this gorgeous book, the nine chambers of the ambiguously-assigned heart, her nine lovers (not merely romantic, mind you). Perhaps, she carries this nine-chambered heart within herself, or perhaps this heart belongs to no one. Nothing is ever crystal clear here, and deliberately so. Janice Pariat writes a story of love and loss that's unlike any other, and yet so universal. It floats, gliding through the deepest crevices of our cold hearts, effortlessly stirring dormant emotions that are wonderfully human. To say any more would be to reveal too much of the subtle beauty of this book.
What makes Janice's writing so particularly stunning, however, is the lyrical prose. She plays with words and little phrases with utter poetic beauty, often framing simple, short fragments in the sweep of grander emotions to deliver a wallop to the soul. The book often plays subtly with ideas of gender, sex and sexuality that almost erases any boundaries that we often place in what we read, consciously or otherwise. The same goes for ideas of who a person is, how they are a collection of their experience, their lives with others, and so forth, which all flow together in a quietly spectacular, seamless river.
The Nine-Chambered Heart, then, is a work of unparalleled beauty. I know, I keep using descriptors of beauty to talk about this book, but that is its truth. Even among the pain and grief and loss that's dealt with so eloquently in the book, there is an exploration and delivery of the beauty of the experience of love. And few capture that as intimately as Janice Pariat.
This book holds within its pages, if you'll forgive the pun, a beating heart. The mystery woman at the centre of this tome is never named, never firmly located, and never given a voice. She's a wandering soul who is immensely flawed, but also immensely loved. And these are the nine perspectives we come across in this gorgeous book, the nine chambers of the ambiguously-assigned heart, her nine lovers (not merely romantic, mind you). Perhaps, she carries this nine-chambered heart within herself, or perhaps this heart belongs to no one. Nothing is ever crystal clear here, and deliberately so. Janice Pariat writes a story of love and loss that's unlike any other, and yet so universal. It floats, gliding through the deepest crevices of our cold hearts, effortlessly stirring dormant emotions that are wonderfully human. To say any more would be to reveal too much of the subtle beauty of this book.
What makes Janice's writing so particularly stunning, however, is the lyrical prose. She plays with words and little phrases with utter poetic beauty, often framing simple, short fragments in the sweep of grander emotions to deliver a wallop to the soul. The book often plays subtly with ideas of gender, sex and sexuality that almost erases any boundaries that we often place in what we read, consciously or otherwise. The same goes for ideas of who a person is, how they are a collection of their experience, their lives with others, and so forth, which all flow together in a quietly spectacular, seamless river.
The Nine-Chambered Heart, then, is a work of unparalleled beauty. I know, I keep using descriptors of beauty to talk about this book, but that is its truth. Even among the pain and grief and loss that's dealt with so eloquently in the book, there is an exploration and delivery of the beauty of the experience of love. And few capture that as intimately as Janice Pariat.
emotional
reflective
sad
medium-paced
Plot or Character Driven:
Character
Strong character development:
Complicated
Loveable characters:
Yes
Diverse cast of characters:
Yes
Flaws of characters a main focus:
Yes
Janice Pariat’s The Nine Chambered Heart is a book on love. It is the simple insight of how a few people loved one woman in all her forms, through her highs and her lows. It is a book on how Love, in all its feline glory, will always leave behind a mutated version of ourselves once it’s done with us. Janice Pariat has worked magic into the words in this book of hers. She gives us only what she wants to and keeps the rest of it hidden behind a mystical screen.
I recommend this book to everyone who has loved, fallen out of love, or basically had anything to do with Love in any form. It was such a joy to read and one can safely relish the lingering aftereffects.
For the entire review, visit Frost At Midnite.
I recommend this book to everyone who has loved, fallen out of love, or basically had anything to do with Love in any form. It was such a joy to read and one can safely relish the lingering aftereffects.
For the entire review, visit Frost At Midnite.