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A review by listeningtolit
The Paper House by Anna Spargo-Ryan
5.0
I held off giving this review until I could get my thoughts in order. This book was such a triumph of perfectly imperfect characters and captivating prose that I feel I owe it some contemplation and deliberation before summing up my thoughts.
I loved this book. I am an audio-book girl but I dutifully downloaded the e-book version and stole minutes from my day to be alone with the words. It felt like extra effort, and it was, as usually I let a novel wash over me as I drive, fold laundry, stack the dishwasher and move through life. I had to be still while I read this one, and I think that was a good thing.
Heather and Dave had a relationship that rung true in so many ways. This is what I loved about the book. Everything was inescapably real. The voices of the characters, the thoughts of Heather, the way Sylvia entered their reality and Heather interacted with her sister and her Dad.
It was Australian without being trite or too deprecating. It was filled with the most beautifully haunting passages that would be followed by heart achingly comedic ones.
I feel like I learnt a lot from this book. I was immersed in the world of Heather and Dave's loss and their garden and Heather's break-down. I sat with her on the old couch on their veranda and was with her when she drew in her sketchbook. Everyone was like someone I had known before and loved and who had also pissed me off at some point.
This is a book I wouldn't usually have read. Stories about loss scare me. They make me think of ugly crying and emotional manipulation. I'm just so glad I took a chance on this one and managed to see it for what it was - a book about loss, about dealing with life, about enduring relationships, about love and about being gentle with yourself. It wasn't all doom and gloom and tears on pillows. It was a celebration of coming through the other side.
And I absolutely loved it.
I loved this book. I am an audio-book girl but I dutifully downloaded the e-book version and stole minutes from my day to be alone with the words. It felt like extra effort, and it was, as usually I let a novel wash over me as I drive, fold laundry, stack the dishwasher and move through life. I had to be still while I read this one, and I think that was a good thing.
Heather and Dave had a relationship that rung true in so many ways. This is what I loved about the book. Everything was inescapably real. The voices of the characters, the thoughts of Heather, the way Sylvia entered their reality and Heather interacted with her sister and her Dad.
It was Australian without being trite or too deprecating. It was filled with the most beautifully haunting passages that would be followed by heart achingly comedic ones.
I feel like I learnt a lot from this book. I was immersed in the world of Heather and Dave's loss and their garden and Heather's break-down. I sat with her on the old couch on their veranda and was with her when she drew in her sketchbook. Everyone was like someone I had known before and loved and who had also pissed me off at some point.
This is a book I wouldn't usually have read. Stories about loss scare me. They make me think of ugly crying and emotional manipulation. I'm just so glad I took a chance on this one and managed to see it for what it was - a book about loss, about dealing with life, about enduring relationships, about love and about being gentle with yourself. It wasn't all doom and gloom and tears on pillows. It was a celebration of coming through the other side.
And I absolutely loved it.