I LOOOVED this book! (Well, most of it…)
And how could I NOT love a book that describes love like this:
“Before long they had formed into a circle, and neither of them could imagine being a straight line again, caught in the loneliness of blunt, severed ends.”
And, then there was this ever-so-perfect rendering of guilt:
“She was rocking him to sleep in the chair by the window when the suggestion of blame smoked in through the keyhole, for even a shut door won’t keep blame away.”
This one was recommended by a friend and I can certainly see why. I loved the conversationally omniscient narrator and the magical realism of the setting. But I loved the vivid characterization and the rapturous stroll through one mute boy’s young life best of all. In spite of his silence, little Bonaventure Arrow has hearing which is unparalleled in scope. If every object, action, and idea, past or present, has a sound, then Bonaventure can hear them all. He can hear the universe being created, the grief and anger which resonate in his slain father’s clothing, and a fly tiptoeing upside down on a marmalade spoon in his kitchen. Most of the language is beautiful and the story is unique and profound.
Ninety percent of this book kept me enthralled and I found myself rereading passages just to retaste the beauty of the author’s prose in lines like those above. However, I was bugged a little by the all-too convenient wrap-up of every character at the end. It felt a little too forced and amateurish. Still, other than the somewhat trite ending, the book is lovely.