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WHEN GOD WAS A RABBIT

Name: WHEN GOD WAS A RABBIT
Author: Sarah Winman
ISBN: 978-1-60819-534-3

by Sarah Winman ‧ RELEASE DATE: May 1, 2011

A freshly rendered tale of growing up and living in the world by a late-starting author with a bright future.

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The offbeat coming-of-age story of Elly, an English girl with an overactive imagination, an intense bond with her older brother, a Belgian hare named god and multiple dates with destiny in post-9/11 New York.

British actress Winman's fiction debut, spanning the late 1960s and early 2000s, boasts one of the more endearingly unconventional families in a while. It's an open secret that Elly's father's lesbian sister has long been enamored of Elly's mother—whom her father married largely as a favor to his sibling. Elly's brother Joe, who is five years older, has known he was gay since he was little. The household is completed by a foppish, aging border and a female Shirley Bassey impersonator. And then there is Elly's mysterious friend Jenny Penny, whom she rescues from neglect at the hands of Jenny's loose-living single mother but can't rescue from a murder conviction later in life. As often as life affirms itself in the book, dark clouds hover: Elly's mother's parents were killed in a freak accident, Elly's father narrowly escapes a bomb blast on a tube train, there are sexual abuses and cancers from which to recover—and, in the second half, there is the horrific bombing of the twin towers. True to the title of a newspaper column Elly now writes about her personal history, Joe and the rediscovered love of his life Charlie both become lost and then found again following the blasts. Though the first half of the book is fresher and more striking then the vaguely familiar New York part (the scene in which Elly auditions for a school pageant in dark glasses, "a cross between Roy Orbison and the dwarf in the film Don't Look Now,” is priceless), Winman mostly lives up to the advance word on the novel. Her quirky voice maintains its energy; even at her most precocious, Elly never wears out her welcome.

A freshly rendered tale of growing up and living in the world by a late-starting author with a bright future.

Pub Date: May 1, 2011

ISBN: 978-1-60819-534-3

Page Count: 304

Publisher: Bloomsbury

Review Posted Online: March 13, 2011

Kirkus Reviews Issue: Feb. 15, 2011

Categories:

LITERARY FICTION

- BOOK REVIEW
STILL LIFE
by Sarah Winman

- BOOK REVIEW
TIN MAN
by Sarah Winman

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IF CATS DISAPPEARED FROM THE WORLD

by Genki Kawamura ; translated by Eric Selland ‧ RELEASE DATE: March 12, 2019

Jonathan Livingston Kitty, it’s not.

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A lonely postman learns that he’s about to die—and reflects on life as he bargains with a Hawaiian-shirt–wearing devil.

The 30-year-old first-person narrator in filmmaker/novelist Kawamura’s slim novel is, by his own admission, “boring…a monotone guy,” so unimaginative that, when he learns he has a brain tumor, the bucket list he writes down is dull enough that “even the cat looked disgusted with me.” Luckily—or maybe not—a friendly devil, dubbed Aloha, pops onto the scene, and he’s willing to make a deal: an extra day of life in exchange for being allowed to remove something pleasant from the world. The first thing excised is phones, which goes well enough. (The narrator is pleasantly surprised to find that “people seemed to have no problem finding something to fill up their free time.”) But deals with the devil do have a way of getting complicated. This leads to shallow musings (“Sometimes, when you rewatch a film after not having seen it for a long time, it makes a totally different impression on you than it did the first time you saw it. Of course, the movie hasn’t changed; it’s you who’s changed") written in prose so awkward, it’s possibly satire (“Tears dripped down onto the letter like warm, salty drops of rain”). Even the postman’s beloved cat, who gains the power of speech, ends up being prim and annoying. The narrator ponders feelings about a lost love, his late mother, and his estranged father in a way that some readers might find moving at times. But for many, whatever made this book a bestseller in Japan is going to be lost in translation.

Jonathan Livingston Kitty, it’s not.

Pub Date: March 12, 2019

ISBN: 978-1-250-29405-0

Page Count: 176

Publisher: Flatiron Books

Review Posted Online: Feb. 16, 2019

Kirkus Reviews Issue: March 1, 2019

Categories:

LITERARY FICTION

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THE SECRET HISTORY

by Donna Tartt ‧ RELEASE DATE: Sept. 16, 1992

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The Brat Pack meets The Bacchae in this precious, way-too-long, and utterly unsuspenseful town-and-gown murder tale. A bunch of ever-so-mandarin college kids in a small Vermont school are the eager epigones of an aloof classics professor, and in their exclusivity and snobbishness and eagerness to please their teacher, they are moved to try to enact Dionysian frenzies in the woods. During the only one that actually comes off, a local farmer happens upon them—and they kill him. But the death isn't ruled a murder—and might never have been if one of the gang—a cadging sybarite named Bunny Corcoran—hadn't shown signs of cracking under the secret's weight. And so he too is dispatched. The narrator, a blank-slate Californian named Richard Pepen chronicles the coverup. But if you're thinking remorse-drama, conscience masque, or even semi-trashy who'll-break-first? page-turner, forget it: This is a straight gee-whiz, first-to-have-ever-noticed college novel—"Hampden College, as a body, was always strangely prone to hysteria. Whether from isolation, malice, or simple boredom, people there were far more credulous and excitable than educated people are generally thought to be, and this hermetic, overheated atmosphere made it a thriving black petri dish of melodrama and distortion." First-novelist Tartt goes muzzy when she has to describe human confrontations (the murder, or sex, or even the ping-ponging of fear), and is much more comfortable in transcribing aimless dorm-room paranoia or the TV shows that the malefactors anesthetize themselves with as fate ticks down. By telegraphing the murders, Tartt wants us to be continually horrified at these kids—while inviting us to semi-enjoy their manneristic fetishes and refined tastes. This ersatz-Fitzgerald mix of moralizing and mirror-looking (Jay McInerney shook and poured the shaker first) is very 80's—and in Tartt's strenuous version already seems dated, formulaic. Les Nerds du Mal—and about as deep (if not nearly as involving) as a TV movie.