Beautiful, haunting, and lyrical
357716
The writing is lush and beautiful - clich perhaps but it is how I feel about words composing the story.

I will be recommending the novel to my friends. :)

I have the hardcover version and the artwork on the dustcover is gorgeous, a fitting representation of the story within the cover.

The book sucked me in and showed characters and settings I would definitely like to get to know even better than I did.

(In case anyone is wondering why my review looks like this, I am trying to write a review with no spoilers.  I hope I got the job done.)

I enjoyed this novel and am looking forward to more from the author.
1172556
Lyrical writing and a beautiful coming of age story.
4219975
I pre-ordered Hurricane Child from Amazon (.co.uk, rather than .com) a little while ago and it finally arrived yesterday (things often take longer this side of the pond). I zoomed through the book and finished it today. Wow. I don't even typically read Middle Grade or YA but this is going onto the list of my favourite books. I wish to death I'd had something like this as a child. I would've felt so affirmed and validated. To know that ornery, sullen dark-skinned queer girls have a place in literature? What a gift.

The prose is beautiful, haunting, and evocative. I so wish I could find other books geared towards young readers with such stunning writing. The voice was strong, and by the end of the first chapter I understood the protagonist, Caroline, so well. I felt for her as an outsider, but also felt like I was her. I remember so many of her conflicts from my own childhood, and while there were many mature themes in here, I thought they were handled sensitively and in a way that young readers would not struggle with. I often wanted weightier material to read as a late elementary school and middle school student, and so I moved on to adult material. This book provides a perfect compromise. It presents harsh realities but there is also a sweetness to it you do not find in adult or even YA books.

Despite being very philosophical, it also has a snappy plot. There's a mystery at the heart of it that you're pulled through quickly. The language, the social dynamics, the details of the setting - all of this made for such a rich reading experience.

I love this book. I can't wait until my three-year-old is old enough for us to read it together.
3962363
One of my favorite books of the year. This is an elegy fierce and lyrical and raw, like none I've read before.
527284
Kath Jesme's fourth book, Meridian, delivers an edgy and moving read in a gorgeous, perfect bound chapbook from Tupelo Press, 2012. Through language both precise and unadorned, Jesme's single long poem marks its horizon of white pages through continual shape shifting, moving in and out of lines, paragraphs and strophes that of course cross silence, too -- with a plain-spokenness in sounds and rhythms that ease the reader along the speaker's reckoning with her mother's decline and death. The book is both hard to keep reading, and almost impossible to put down -- a combination that produces a particular kind of satisfaction when you think about it. Beauty helps -- observations of the natural world, especially. Transparency helps -- the language couldn't be more available. Spareness relieves and mystery compels, and throughout, the warmth in the speaker's voice makes for good company.

 The poem's present occurs in Jesme's Upper Midwest. Its winter plains, snow and wind. Interiors in this landscape may be wrecked or receding when overtly spoken of, but the marvelous, sometimes tricky interior of memory, and the workings (or failings) of the mind, persist. The speaker notes here a mother's losses or talents, and there gathers detail, nuance and complexity from immediate surroundings -- all of it offered up in crystal clear language.

 Meridian never indulges in raw or obvious emotion, yet it carries so much feeling.  The mother's grand piano, recurrent image and an enormous presence in her otherwise modest apartment, makes itself useful to the speaker's emotional proceedings, giving her something to hang the need for distraction on. The reader is glad for its uncomplicated reappearances, too. Landscape and animals are relief; the piano is otherness. Jesme does a beautiful job managing time and space, both on the page, as a kind of canvas, but also throughout the accruing felt narrative. I won't spoil the quite brilliant and virtuosic ending for you, but offer these lines to demonstrate the sense of familiarity within the poem, alongside starker elements.

  ...The body -- already not my mother. She
 didn't speak French anymore. She didn't play the piano anymore.
 She was already not. It felt sudden.

Juxtaposition of the common and small with the mysterious and vast gives the poem its capacity and access, and much of its surprise. Meridian is the kind of book that rewards re-reading, and it stands as a fine example of how very much can be done with the chapbook as a form.
3781008
This hard-to-put-down memoir was a study in forgiveness and reconciliation in the backdrop of breathtaking beauty.  Then there was the violence - always present, lurking, and ready to pounce.  I could almost feel the cold, breathe in  the fresh mountainous air;  feel the stillness of a cloudless, star-studded night sky, and smell the earthy soil.  This one will stay with you for a long time as a daughter comes to terms with her violent father and his violent history. Haunting, and  beautifully written, this is one worthy of a Pulitzer.
2424291
Transatlantic, by Colum McCann, is a wonderful symphony of a novel. Lilting in places; poignantly, achingly moving in others; powerfully grim, dryly witty; always sharply, beautifully composed; it is the kind of novel whose quiet nature seeps in under your skin and lingers well after that final page.

 Told in non-linear fashion, the novel moves between 1845 and 2012, with stops in the late 1800s, 1929, 1978, and 2011.  Ireland lies at the center of it all, with three important crossings to the island: the 1919 transatlantic flight from Newfoundland by two airmen--Brown and Alcock, an 1845 trip by Frederick Douglass, and one of George Mitchell's journeys over in 1998 as he tries to broker the eventual peace accord.  While all three journeys are made by men and famous historical figures at that, the book is much more the story of several generations of women who open and close the novel, tying its strands together and forming the true heart and soul of the story:
* Lily Duggan, a young Irish maid who meets Douglass on his trip and later emigrates to America
* Lily's daughter Emily, who as a reporter living in Newfoundland covers Brown and Alcock's journey and who also gives Brown a mysterious sealed letter to carry over to Ireland
* Emily's daughter Lottie, who takes photos to go with her mother's article and who travels with her to Ireland to interview Brown for an anniversary article in 1929, where he returns the letter he'd forgotten to deliver.
* Lottie's daughter Hannah, who with her mother meets Senator Mitchell during his trip in 1998 and who in 2011 is struggling financially and facing the loss of her home due to foreclosure, leading her to consider selling the still unopened letter.

The prose is lyrical and precise throughout, offering up an unending parade of beautiful, quotable lines (I dot each such one in the margins as I read and there are, believe me, a lot of dots in my copy). Perhaps the best review would simply be a listing of such lines; it would certainly be enough to ensure I picked up any book holding just a few of them.

Interior monologue dominates many of the longer sections, allowing McCollum (and the reader) to deep into his characters thoughts and feelings, both the historical figures and the fictional ones.  Each comes fully, movingly alive as McCollum wholly inhabits each separate voice.

The nonlinear structure lends great impact to events, coloring them and recoloring them, and the whole thing is masterfully put together, with a web of connecting tissue of character and setting and parallel themes and events.  Connections, to take one obvious example, are drawn between the American Civil War via Lily's experiences as a nurse and the Irish Civil Troubles through their impact on Lottie and Hannah and Hannah's son Tomas. Flight, freedom, slavery, the onward march of time, the difficulties of communication:  all of these themes wend their way through the work, along with others.

The book is filled with life and light and beauty as well as death and darkness and ugliness and McCollum weaves them all together with the assured and confident grace of a maestro.  "Nothing ever finishes," one of the characters, muses. Unfortunately, Transatlantic does, but its haunting, hopeful grace and elegance will stay with you some time. Highly, highly recommended.
2000865
To say this is powerful stuff doesnt cover it; it is steeped in an exploration of familial grief and loss in petaled layers. I say petaled because it is tightly layered, potent, hard-hitting, yet delicate in voice. These are whispered reflections, soft on the ear, enticing lines that wooed me in, but they can punch you in the gut. I actually found myself more than once, holding my breath (caught in beauty) to be suddenly taken by surprise by a quick sob that sneaked up out of nowhere. If youve read these, you are probably smiling and noddingyou know precisely the points that I mean.

But heres whats so unique for me: its almost novella-like. I am aware of other volumes of poetry that tell stories in sets, or that carry one theme throughout so that, yes, in the end, you do feel youve had a glimpse into an aspect of the poets life, and I love that. But Williams goes farther, doing what so many themed volumes do not accomplish. He tells me a compelling, mysterious tale that sustains itself in mysteries, drives me forward all the way to the end, unfolding the generations of those who haunt one family, or more specifically, one man. Even the Washington woods and a river play a role so that I feel here everything a good novel should do: creating a physical environment, exploring the essence of loss and its mysterious veils in a story frame delicate as lace.

Throughout these subtly disquieting poems run three more threads--that of a dead boy, speaking to comfort, to connect, to explore, to let goand that of a newborn girl, discovering the property of displacing air (and so much more), and the voice of a river with the feeling of a Greek chorus running beneath us.

I won't say how it ends, except to say it is stunning. I am so grateful to have read this exquisite little volume.
3335833
In Bel Canto, Ann Patchett's lyrical and haunting prose is perfectly tuned to her impossibly romantic tale.  The title, literally translated "beautiful singing", refers to a specific kind of operatic singing, and certainly opera and music play a significant role in the novel.  Because of that, a familiarity with opera must add to a reader's enjoyment of the book, but it's not at all necessary.  (I am not fond of opera, but I liked this book.)  Personally, I think Patchett gives too much credence to music's power to soothe the savage breast, but I can't prove it, so I'm willing to give her some poetic license.
This is, more specifically, a tale of relationships forged within an artificial environment that starts out as harsh and turns idyllic.  Patchett revels  in her characters' thoughts and feelings rather than in their actions, so the pace is slow, with an almost dreamlike quality that is carried right through to the end of the book.  As for the epilogue, I liked it very much.  Far from being surprised or disappointed by it, I felt it to be the only possible resolution.  Perhaps I'm giving Ann Patchett too much credit, but I find it utterly impossible to believe that she would call her heroine something as unusual as Roxanne without a specific purpose.  The name recalls another heroine whose true love's words were spoken to her by another, and I found the resonance delightful.  So, if you're a lover of poetry and classical romance, give this one a try.
4596389
This was a beautiful book. The writing is original and absolutely beautiful, and the complexities of each character are explored in a way that twists at the heart and leaves you thinking. The story is one that stays with you long after you've put the book down. Since so much has already been said about the plot and writing, I'll just add that this book, and the character's journey through her own psyche, will keep you turning pages until long after you've promised you'll stop reading and go to bed already. It grips you tight and doesn't let go, even after you've finished.
101358
Simply told, elegant and hauntingly beautiful
1285264
This story hooked me on page one. The writing is lush and rich, lyrical without being too flowery, and the story itself is the perfect balance of hope and heartbreak. From the start, I was thrilled to be on these characters' journeys. Walsh's ability to make these characters both real and ethereal is such a treat, and the questions that linger about their mother's death broke my heart. I FELT this book: the characters' longing, their grief and their hope. It is truly a sensory experience.

A fabulous choice for book clubs with much to discuss about the complex bonds between sisters and the various ways we respond to grief and loss. What a gift!
1343525
American Rust is a haunting, ultimately satisfying novel that will delight you with the quality of its prose even as it submerges you in a landscape of despair and emotional turmoil.  Author Philipp Meyer uses the devastation of the Pennsylvania steel industry as a backdrop for a moving character study of people trapped in it.  The stark physical symbolism - broken hulks of buildings, rusting barges tied to polluted riverbanks - creates a mood of uncontrollable and accelerating decay.  The characters are brilliantly drawn.  Inner thoughts, which comprise much of the book, are often written in a choppy almost stream-of-consciousness style that is pleasing to read and very natural.  Dialogue and narrative are sparing, tying together the captivating conflict-to-resolution progression of each character.  I highly recommend American Rust.  The praise for the author on the book cover as a powerful new literary force is well deserved.
4546092
I have not been able to stop thinking about this moving and masterful work of historical fiction, from the second I started reading it. Beautifully and elegantly written, it moves through past and present tense seamlessly. I was drawn into the story of the 19th century woman, Baby Doe Tabor, her fierce determination and passion to work in the male-only world of the mines, told through compelling narrative, letters, and fragments of dreams taken from her diaries. Though she is a survivor of profound loss, scandal, financial hardship, and loneliness, none of this is portrayed with even a trace of melodrama. Instead, Donna Baier Stein brings these themes to life with gripping and poetic passages throughout the book  passages such as, From the corner of my eye, I see the pillow on my bed. Its shape has a profile. It talks with a sheet in a conversation I cannot hear. This image of loneliness and alienation is fully felt and will stay with me forever. I am grateful to have read such a poignant and memorable work of art.
3896127
Quiet, lyrical, beautiful. This book follows Taja as she grows from middle school up through high school and is told through these vivid, slice of life vignettes. It's really unusual in that it deals with more with the internal world and daily life of Taja as she grows up, rather than following a more traditional narrative arc. The book tackles themes of faith, desire, family, identity, and choice with lush, gorgeous prose and perfect attention to character. I loved this.
4974735
Wow, so I loved this book! It's compelling and deep, and Talon is a great main character, so relatable, but also flawed.
Clark's writing is beautiful, and the images are so evocative. I especially loved the small sections narrated by Secret throughout, and the almost-philosophical touch this added in places.
It's quite a dark story too, and at times it was hard to read. But the issues covered are important, and Clark addresses them in a powerful way. I loved how Gabby was almost a mirror version of Talon, and how their sister-like relationship became one of the strongest themes in the book, even over-riding the romantic aspect. That's something I haven't seen many contemporary YA books do, and it felt really refreshing
1895350
"Thirteen Reasons Why" is a haunting story. As I read it, I jotted down bullet points of the story for my own records, and realized what I was writing was the gist of the 13 'stories'... but what really matters isn't who each tape was about. Instead, it's more about Hannah's thoughts and how she interacts with her listeners in this one-sided and often gut-wrenching dialogue, as well as Clay's responses to her last words.

Gripping and beautiful throughout, I felt it captured Hannah's gradual but evident decline -- how these various events took a toll on her already fragile life. Her mindset and reactions to the world as it unfolded were tough to handle, with each of the 13 stories having a different level of impact, but it being about the overall message. I get that.

Oh, and then there's Clay's dialogue every few lines -- unreturned dialogue meant for Hannah but said to no one but the reader. It was also hard to read at times, mostly because what he said fit the mould of a "full" character, with his conflicting emotions fitting of a truly three-dimensional person who has thought so much over time about how he feels about this person; about this girl he knew but didn't really know. No one feels just one thing. As humans we're all over the map, and certainly Clay was too, and for good reason given Hannah's unwillingness to let people in. He was an odd protagonist because he didn't convey as much emotion as you'd expect -- he was more of a narrator with a few snippets of return dialogue now and then, rather than an emotional wreck. That's not a criticism as much as an observation, simply part of the structure Asher employed as this story's primary construct.

I'm not sure how I feel about it all, but it was a tough and rather powerful story to read. I'm almost sad that it didn't have some ridiculous Hollywood ending, but I knew it wouldn't. I just feel a lot of emotion for Hannah -- a person that only exists in text, and so I guess that means Asher succeeded in his message.

I tend to write my reviews literally minutes after finishing the book. In one way, it helps because it's fresh in my mind, and all the thoughts I felt while reading are right at the top of my head. On another, I haven't had time to let it all process. That may alter my perception of a book like this, because it's not light popcorn fare, but it is what it is. This book was heavily 'hyped up' for me, but it actually lived up to the hype. I think I'm easier to please than most readers (as I so rarely give out bad scores) but either way, I know when I like something, and I liked this.

There's a lot that can be said for the plot -- about shifting blame, reputations, high school politics, and the possible selfishness portrayed by its characters. I don't think I need to say any of that. It could be a hot button topic. I'd rather say that this books covers a lot in a short amount of time, and Asher conveys it all pretty poignantly through Hannah and Clay.

So I don't know how I feel about this book, except that I'm glad I read it, and I'm likely to read it again some day. The final few chapters really tore at me. I didn't cry. I don't cry reading books, but it still tore at me, especially her deep dark descent near the end. Wow.

So what more is there to say? This may be my most vague review to date, because I don't really "say" a lot. I guess, read it if you are interested in well written books that may be sad but leave you with a glimmer of hope. 9/10.