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A review by lilibetbombshell
I Am Margaret Moore by Hannah Capin
5.0
I’m looking at other reviews for this book on various sites and I’m seeing that my rating–and even my interpretation and reading of this book–is very different from most others. Mainly in that I loved every single bit of this book and totally understood every choice the author made.
It started out a little rough in the first 10% or so, as I tried to get my bearings and figure out what exactly was going on and why the author chose the narrative and prose styles used. Once I had that down I totally tucked into this beautifully-written, tragic, and yet triumphant book.
Some readers will have an issue with the prose and narrative in this novel, and that’s understandable. It’s a mix of lyrical prose, a touch of freeform poetry, and an ephemeral time-stream-of-consciousness. It’s definitely experimental, but devastatingly beautiful and perfect for this book (unlike some other books with experimental writing I’ve read this year so far).
There are just so many layers and themes in this book: misogyny, halcyon summers, how there are some places where you are always your authentic self to the exclusion of all others, and how there are some people you can only be your authentic self around without worrying about the eyes of the world outside judging you and holding you to certain expectations.
I especially loved the constant references to the term “naiad”. Naiads, in mythology, are female guardians of still waters. They can be deadly (look at what happened to poor Hylas), and the waters they inhabit have the ability to heal. In Greek mythology, boys and girls cut off a lock of their hair and tossed it into the local spring inhabited by their naiad at their coming-of-age ceremony. Once you read the book you’ll see why the double-meaning of naiads (both in an etymological way and an unmentioned mythological way) makes a stunning amount of sense in a macabre and beautiful manner.
Also, There’s a poem mentioned, quoted, and repeated in parts by Emily Dickonson called “My Life had stood - a Loaded Gun”, which is about keeping women silent–about taking away their voices. And this theme looms very large in the book.
I was entranced by this stunning book, written so carefully and gorgeous I couldn’t stop reading. I knew what was going to happen. I knew what was happening. But that was absolutely okay with me because it let me get lost in the words… and those words were worth the entire trip.
Thanks to NetGalley, St. Martin’s Press, and Wednesday Books for early access to this title in exchange for a fair and honest review.
It started out a little rough in the first 10% or so, as I tried to get my bearings and figure out what exactly was going on and why the author chose the narrative and prose styles used. Once I had that down I totally tucked into this beautifully-written, tragic, and yet triumphant book.
Some readers will have an issue with the prose and narrative in this novel, and that’s understandable. It’s a mix of lyrical prose, a touch of freeform poetry, and an ephemeral time-stream-of-consciousness. It’s definitely experimental, but devastatingly beautiful and perfect for this book (unlike some other books with experimental writing I’ve read this year so far).
There are just so many layers and themes in this book: misogyny, halcyon summers, how there are some places where you are always your authentic self to the exclusion of all others, and how there are some people you can only be your authentic self around without worrying about the eyes of the world outside judging you and holding you to certain expectations.
I especially loved the constant references to the term “naiad”. Naiads, in mythology, are female guardians of still waters. They can be deadly (look at what happened to poor Hylas), and the waters they inhabit have the ability to heal. In Greek mythology, boys and girls cut off a lock of their hair and tossed it into the local spring inhabited by their naiad at their coming-of-age ceremony. Once you read the book you’ll see why the double-meaning of naiads (both in an etymological way and an unmentioned mythological way) makes a stunning amount of sense in a macabre and beautiful manner.
Also, There’s a poem mentioned, quoted, and repeated in parts by Emily Dickonson called “My Life had stood - a Loaded Gun”, which is about keeping women silent–about taking away their voices. And this theme looms very large in the book.
I was entranced by this stunning book, written so carefully and gorgeous I couldn’t stop reading. I knew what was going to happen. I knew what was happening. But that was absolutely okay with me because it let me get lost in the words… and those words were worth the entire trip.
Thanks to NetGalley, St. Martin’s Press, and Wednesday Books for early access to this title in exchange for a fair and honest review.