Barbados: The Star Side of Bird Hill

 

 

The Star Side of Bird Hill

by Naomi Jackson

 

  

 

If not for this blog, I would have never picked up this book, and that would have been a real shame since The Star Side of Bird Hill by Naomi Jackson turned out to be a gem of a story.  I'm definitely someone who judges a book by its cover, and that includes the title as well as the picture on the jacket.  For this book, I don't like either.  The title pairs words that don't normally go together, which means it didn't stick in my mind, spark my imagination, or attract me to pick up the book and take a closer look.  Turns out that the title makes perfect sense after you read the story, of course, as does the ugly cover picture of a Carnaval-like clown.  But because of my "so many books, so little time" mantra, the visual and auditory stimulants that the title and cover image provide are often what draws me to or repels me from selecting my next book to read.  Fortunately, I needed a Barbados book, and this one showed up as one that Amazon.com recommended just for me.  And it was fantastic.

 

The Star Side of Bird Hill is a coming of age story about two sister, Dionne and Phaedra, who are sent to live with their grandmother, Hyacinth, in their homeland of Barbados when their mother becomes ill.  Dionne is 16, at a time in her life where leaving Brooklyn for the small island community of Bird Hill is in no way appealing and completely counter to her life vision at that juncture.  She conveys her frustration and disappointment in the way adolescents often do, through rebellion, disrespect, and pushing Hyacinth's boundaries at every opportunity, but we also see a glimpse of her relief at being discharged from the adult responsibilities her mother's illness had foisted upon her.  She no longer has to find food, resolve crises, or act as a parent to Phaedra, who at 10, is more easy-going and open to her new life.  Phaedra's character is strength and grit and softness, all at the same time.  She wears her heart on her sleeve but stands up to anyone who might want to bruise it in any way.  NPR's review says "the book ... belongs to Phaedra," and I agree.  Because of Phaedra, you love Dionne despite her obnoxiousness, empathize with the girls' mother (who is an invisible character, never actually appearing in person), and wish you could sit down for a cup of coffee with Hyacinth to learn more about her life.

 

Jackson takes a long time to set up the novel, and during the first third or so of the book, I wondered if I would wind up judging the content as I had the cover.  But once the current setting is staged, Jackson takes us deeper into what went on in Brooklyn and also in Bird Hill many years previously, before the girls' mother left home.  That context informs the richness of what's happening in the moment with Dionne, Phaedra, and Hyacinth as they forge ahead with their changed relationships and their new sense of what must become normal.  There is tragedy at the end.  More tragedy than two young girls would likely cope with well, and in fact, Dionne struggles.  But Hyacinth and Phaedra are steady in their love and support, and Bird Hill proves to be the best possible backdrop for healing and for hope. 
 

 

 



Bangladesh: A Golden Age

 

A Golden Age

by Tahmima Anam
 

 

 

A Golden Age, by Tahmima Anam, was featured on NPR, a source I trust absolutely for book recommendations.  But the main reason I chose it for Bangladesh is because my friend Liz told me it was one of her all-time favorites.  I really do want suggestions and really will consider them seriously. A Golden Age was right up my alley, so Liz either knows me well or it was a happy coincidence.  I've already mentioned my fondness for first novels, and this is an example of another homerun for a debut piece of fiction.  I also happen to have a special fondness for books set in South Asia.  I don't know why.  I've traveled a lot but not much in that part of the world other than a quick work trip to New Delhi, India where I didn't see much outside of the hotel and a few government offices where my meetings took place.  Something about those countries' cultures seem rich, vibrant, and enduring, and the setting is ripe for exploring themes that I get absorbed in when reading.  This book fit that description precisely and sparked my imagination through its story of a family that is shocked out of its every day normalcy and thrust into a time of war.

 

Rehana is a young woman when she is widowed by her husband's sudden death, too soon after their arranged marriage that generated deep love and two cherished children, Sohail and Maya.  The novel opens with Rehana's loss of custody because she is too poor to provide for them and moves quickly to her determined reversal of fortune when she improves her circumstances and recovers her babies in only a year's time.  From that point on, Rehana devotes herself to them, never contemplating herself or her future as she steers them towards adulthood and independence.  Just as they are on the brink of coming into their own, the country breaks into a civil war that no one saw coming. 

 

The war that provides the backdrop for the novel took place in 1971, when relations between East and West Pakistan, separated by the enormous country of India, became increasingly hostile.  Sohail and Maya, now young adults, are active on their college campus in protesting West Pakistan's refusal to recognize East Pakistan's elected leaders.  Tensions build quickly, and when the Pakistani army begins killing protesters, Sohail and Maya are pulled into a nationalistic fight for East Pakistan's independence.  Rehana is not especially political but has remained as devoted to her children as she vowed to be when they returned home so many years ago.  She, too, becomes pulled in, first by agreeing to house the resistance fighters, and then, just as the nation of Bangladesh is born, by falling in love with one of them.  As a reader, I also felt pulled ... into the history of Bangladesh, the fierce devotion of Rehana's motherhood, Sohail's determination, Maya's frantic search for her role, and ultimately, the awful choice Rehana is forced to make in the end.

 

There are parts of this novel where you'll find yourself drifting along with Anam's dreamy narrative and others where you'll be holding your breath with anticipation of what happens next.  This is one I'd strongly recommend to anyone!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Bahrain: The Meeting Point

 

The Meeting Point

by Lucy Caldwell

 

 

 So, I actually read this book way back in May, just as things were getting crazy with the end of school year stuff.  I waited too long to write about it, then got distracted by several other books I read during the summer so I kept stalling.  I don't know if anything I write now, six entire months later, will accurately depict my experience of reading The Meeting Point.  But I'll give it a shot.  The six month break was good for my motivation to get back to my alphabetical, literary journey around the world.  I'd been feeling discouraged by a few duds and the lack of choices for many of the smaller countries, but I've recommitted and will continue to work my way through the B's.  I really am glad I didn't impose a timeframe on myself for this endeavor though.  I think I'm more the meandering type.

 

The Meeting Point is about a young woman, Ruth and her husband, Euan, who move to Bahrain with their young daughter so that Euan can serve as a Christian missionary.  Ruth believes their purpose is to provide pastoral care to a church that is attended by expatriates from Western Europe, primarily the United States and their own homeland, the United Kingdom.  But upon their arrival in Bahrain, she learns there is another, very dangerous mission that Euan intends to undertake, one that risks their physical safety and compromises what they have built together as a young family.  When her protests fall on deaf ears and Euan begins spending increasingly long stretches of time away from home, Ruth befriends a British, adolescent girl, Noor, who is living with her Arab father and recovering from a tragic incident at the boarding school she previously attended.  Through their friendship and through helping care for Ruth's child, Noor begins to heal from the past and from her loneliness.  She relies on Ruth to mentor her through the process of learning to trust again, but meanwhile, Ruth is distracted by Farid, a much younger man who acts as her tour guide and shows her the beauty of her temporary home in Bahrain.  As the relationships between Ruth and each of the other characters ... Euan, Noor, and Farid ... spin out of control, Ruth learns some painful lessons.  With Bahrain as a haunting backdrop, Ruth questions her faith in God, in her marriage, and in herself. 

 

The book's foundation in Christianity is important to the character development, the setting, and the context of the underlying themes and plot.  You do not need to be Christian to read and enjoy the novel, nor are you likely to find it to be preachy or theological.  In this sense, Caldwell did an outstanding job of exploring religion, history, and politics while focusing purely on how the collision of those three things impacts the humans at the vertex of those ideologies.  Goodreads rating shows just over three stars overall, but I gave it four.

 



 



Bahamas: The Far Side of the Sun

 

 

The Far Side of the Sun

by Kate Furnivall

 

 

 

What I enjoyed most about Kate Furnivall's novel, The Far Side of the Sun, was the historical background it offered on the island nation of The Bahamas, a country most of us think of only as a vacation spot but which has its own proud heritage.  Set in the 1940's, just as the world is on the brink of World War II, The Bahamas is on its own brink ... of independence as the native Bahamians begin to stand up against colonial rule and push back against laws and politics that keep the scales tilted in favor of the Brits who have come to think of the island as their own.  Dodie, an orphaned young woman who feels more Bahamian than British, and Ella, the intelligent but bored wife of a prestigious diplomat, cross paths when Dodie helps a mysterious, dying man upon whom she stumbles in a dark alleyway.  Her kindness is rewarded by her formerly peaceful life becoming fraught with danger and political intrigue.  When she crosses paths with Ella, whose secrets are well hidden behind her role as proper diplomatic wife, they spin together towards violence and the discovery of greed and deceit that tarnishes what they believe to be true of their lovely island home.

 

This is the third Kate Furnivall book I've read.  I loved her first novel, The Russian Concubine, but couldn't get through The Red Scarf and struggled with this one.  I don't think I'll read any of her others.  It's made me think about how I have an affinity for debut novels.  I wonder if it's because a first novel is likely the product of many years of creative thinking and daydreaming, careful planning, stretching and growing, and capitalizing on all of the writer's own human experience, channeled into the final product that is that very first published novel.  Those that come after, more often than not, are written and published faster, this time with the writer capitalizing on his or her previous success.  That makes for an altogether different sort of equation, doesn't it?  That's not to say, of course, that writers don't ever produce high quality second, third, fourth (and so on) novels.  But there is something I love about reading that first masterpiece.

 

 

 

 

There are a few literary prizes out there specifically for debut novels.  Two of my favorites are:

 

PEN/Heminway Award - I haven't read the 2015 award-winner, Elegy on Kinderklavier, by Arna Bontemps Hemenway, but the 2014 prize went to one of favorites, We Need New Names, by NoViolet Bulawayo.

 

The Center for Fiction - The 2015 winner was Land of Love and Drowning, by Tiphanie Yanique - this one has been on my "to be read" list for a while - might have to bump it up to the top!  Fourth of July Creek, by Smith Henderson, which I devoured and loved, made the shortlist, as did The Invention of Exile, by Vanessa Manko, which is on my bookshelf.

 

 

So after reading this book, I have decided that I that I need to amp up the quality of the books I'm selecting.  I know this blog doesn't have a large number of followers, and that's okay because I'm really writing this for myself and not because I have aspirations for making it big in the blogosphere.  But those of you who are reading along, I truly would be grateful for your help in finding books to read, especially for the smaller countries where there isn't much in the literary mainstream.  I'm keeping a master list of suggestions, so please feel free to send me a suggestion for a country that's way down the alphabetical order.  You can post here in the blog's comment box, or you can email me at theworldbybook@gmail.com.  Thanks in advance, and happy reading!

 

 



 



Azerbaijan: The Orphan Sky

The Orphan Sky

by Ella Leya

Leila is a privileged young woman, approaching adulthood in Soviet Azerbaijan, where she is blind to the corruption, duplicity, and hypocrisy that are all around her.  The beloved only child of a respected Communist official, Leila is beautiful and talented and has the attention of an up and coming young leader in the Communist party.  Never having been exposed to anything other than the Azeri elite, she sees herself as a devout Communist and does not understand the price of her comfortable, luxurious lifestyle, even though her closest friend Almaz's life is nothing like her own.  That all changes, somewhat predictably, when Leila meets Tahir, a young painter whose interest in jazz and other western influences have branded him as a rebel who is dangerous to the political status quo.  Leila is tasked with learning his secrets and reporting on his activities, but when Tahir opens her eyes to life outside of Soviet control and shows her the reality of Communist power, she finds she cannot follow through.  Her decision to follow her heart has far-reaching, tragic consequences that she could never have expected.  Everything she thought was true ... is false.  Everything she thought was real ... doesn't exist.  And everything about which she had dreamed ... is out of reach.

The premise of The Orphan Sky is intriguing:  what is it like to believe you are fortunate and in control of your own life and destiny, only to find out that your good fortune comes from corruption that ruins the lives of others and that you, like everyone else, are at the mercy of people you do not trust?  Had it been better written, it could have been compared to Doctor Zhivago with its ill-fated love story, where passion seeks to rise above all else but ultimately cannot.  Leila's struggle is whether to believe in her head or her heart and whether to choose her country or herself.  The novel's point is that sometimes in life, perhaps there is no true way to win.

The Los Angeles Review of Books wrote a very positive review of The Orphan Sky, including historical details about the country and capturing the writer's successful weaving of Azeri myth into the story of Leila and Tahir.  While I appreciate the reviewer's perspective, I did not enjoy this book enough to recommend it.  For me, the characters fell flat when it came to believability, and the historical notes about ancient Azerbaijan failed to set the stage for the modern story taking place. 

Other Books Considered:

The Orientalist: Solving the Mystery of a Strange and Dangerous Life, by Tom Reiss

The Colonel's Mistake, by Dan Mayland

The Devil's Garden, by Ralph Peters

 

 

 

Austria: The Sojourn

The Sojourn

by Andrew Krivak

 



This is a book that will stick with you forever.  Kind of like All Quiet on the Western Front, or The Heart of Darkness, or maybe Cold Mountain.  The narrative is quiet, poetic, and mesmerizing, with vivid descriptions and little dialogue between characters.  Krivak's main intent seems to be to take us into the heart and mind of Jozef Vinich, our young protagonist who leaves his mountain home and beloved father behind to become a soldier during World War I.

Jozef's story begins just after his birth in America, where within weeks of his arrival in the world, his mother dies in a shocking accident.  His father, left alone to raise his infant son, decides to leave America and return to his home, a village in the mountains of the Austro-Hungarian empire where he and the boy tend sheep and make their way in the world, alone but for each other.  As Jozef learns the way of the shepherd, he also learns the skills of a marksman.  When his cousin, Zlee, comes to live with them, they become brothers, each equally devoted to the man who teaches them how to survive.

All that they learn proves invaluable when, at tender ages of not yet 20, the two boys leave home to join the fighting in what will become World War I.  Although some of the narrative plods a bit in this part of the story, the tale is interspersed with intense moments of the horrors of war, of death, and of loss.  What's magical is that throughout the novel, Jozef's humanity shine like a brilliant star.  The language embodies masculinity, the strong exterior that shields a more vulnerable internal self that loves in the midst of fighting and killing.  It's beautifully done, and while this book won't go on my list of favorites, I can absolutely appreciate its quality and the reasons its received a nod from the National Book Award when it made the shortlist of finalists in 2011.

Worth reading is Andrew Krivak's web page, in particular his discussion of the inspiration behind the story of The Sojourn.  He talks about a photograph of his grandfather that was taken in 1918 when he was a very young member of the Austro-Hungarian army and of the family lore that rolled around in his imagination until it eventually became The Sojourn.  I have a story like that, rolling around in my mind for years, about an old family member with a life story that I'd like to someday write about.  So this background is very intriguing to me, and in a way, I wish I'd been aware of it before I read the book.  It might have enriched my experience of The Sojourn even more.

Austria today

The Austro-Hungarian Empire, prior to WWI

Other Books Considered:

Freud's Mistress, by Karen Mack
Setting Free the Bears, by John Irving
Homestead, by Rosina Lippi
The Exiles Return, by Elisabeth da Waal
The Castle in the Forest, by Normal Mailer
The Accidental Empress, by Allison Pataki

Australia: Ship of Brides

The Ship of Brides

by Jojo Moyes

 



 

 

The problem with Australia is there are just way too many good books to choose from.  And yes, I know that should be "from which to choose," but it just doesn't sound right in casual conversation or writing, so I'm throwing the rule out the window for the moment. 

Anyway, I spent nearly as much time searching for the right book set in Australia as I did the countries where there are hardly any options at all.  I came close to reading The Narrow Road to the Deep North, by Richard Flanagan, which just won the 2014 Man Booker prize, which is my favorite literary prize (see book nerd survey.)  I even bought a copy in hard back, anticipating that I would love it so much I'd want to have a copy to keep, share, and feature prominently on my bookshelf.  And I do plan to read it ... just not right now.  After I hemmed and hawed for days, maybe even weeks, I realized that I was stalling because I just wasn't in the mood for a prize-winning novel at the moment.  I wanted something lighter, easier to read, a distraction from the busy calendar of the moment.  So when someone suggested The Ship of Brides, by Jojo Moyes, I grabbed it.

Jojo Moyes is the author of one of my all-time favorite contemporary romance novels.  I don't actually read much romance, but the occasional romantic comedy (think The Rosie Project by Graeme Simsion) or one with a little twist of fairy tale (think The Snow Child by Eowyn Ivey) is perfect for a day when your brain is already on overload.  The first Jojo Moyes novel I read was Me Before You, and I absolutely adored it.  I fell in love with both Louisa and Will.  I laughed and I cried, both with the characters and all alone when the book was over.  If you haven't read it, you really must.  It's endearing.

The Ship of Brides had a different style and mood than Me Before You.  When writers successfully tell different kinds of stories and demonstrate linguistic versatility, I'm impressed.  I think it must be challenging to shift the voice of your writing, much as I'm sure it's challenging for actors to portray different types of characters successfully enough that you forget who is actually doing the acting.  I didn't love The Ship of Brides as much, but I enjoyed reading it and felt I'd learned an interesting bit of history I hadn't been familiar with before.

The novel is about young Australian women who travel by ship, courtesy of His Royal Navy, at the end of World War II to join their British husbands who'd been shipped back home once the war ended and their military tours of duty in Australia were over.  We meet a handful of the several hundred aboard the naval ship, each from a different background and each leaving home for different reasons and with different hopes and dreams for the future.  There's Maggie ... a down to earth farm girl; Avice ... the over-indulged, socialite who thinks too highly of herself and is ill-prepared for the disappointment she must face; Jean ... bawdy and crass but lovable in her desperation for a better, happier life; and Frances ... running from her difficult past and frantically trying to stay hidden in the shadows. 

We don't get to meet the men in their lives, except through what they share with each other, but the naval personnel who are charged with transporting such unusual cargo feature prominently.  Not all of them are nice characters, but it was easy to become attached to the Captain and to Nicol, the introspective sailor whose trauma serves to remind us that the journey is happening because of an ugly war.

There wasn't a lot of action, but the story of Frances is mysterious enough to add a little intrigue.  I especially loved Jojo Moyes's dedication at the front of the book where she hints at her grandmother having been a war bride and perhaps the inspiration for the novel.  I just wonder which of the characters is based on Grandma Moyes!

 

Other Books Considered:

 

The Sound of One Hand Clapping, by Richard Flanagan

The Narrow Road to the Deep North, by Richard Flanagan  

 

Riders in the Chariot, by Patrick White

 

The White Earth, by Andrew McGahan

 

The House at Riverton, by Kate Morton 

 

Past the Shallows, by Favel Parrett

 

The Lieutenant, by Kate Grenville

The Daughters of Mars, by Thomas Keneally

A River Town, by Thomas Keneally

The Paperbark Shoe, by  Goldie Goldbloom 

 

Previously Read:

 

Coldwater, by Mardi McConnochie
 

The Book Thief, by Markus Zusak (Australian author; set in Germany)
 

The Secret River, by Kate Grenville
 

The Forgotten Garden, by Kate Morton
 

The Light Between Oceans, by M. L. Stedman
 

The Rosie Project, by Graeme Simsion

The Silent Wife, by A. S. A. Harrison

Mr. Pip, by Lloyd Jones
 

Rabbit Proof Fence, by Doris Pilkington

 

 



Survey Says: Book Nerd!



I'm not sure when the word "nerd" became a badge of honor, but between my childhood and now, somehow it has evolved.  When I was a kid, no one wanted to be a nerd.  Now, it's a term of endearment, often used self-reflexively, and everyone wants to be one.  One of my sons is a gaming nerd, the other son is a Star Wars nerd, and my daughter is ... well, she's still an adolescent and unpredictable, so I won't call her a nerd, just in case she's not in the mood to see it as a positive thing.

It goes without saying that I am a book nerd.  This is an actual thing, as evidenced by Barnes and Noble's recent survey that allows you to quiz yourself and see how nerdy you actually are.  Go ahead, take it and see what you get!

 

SURVEY

So, out of 50 possible points, I got 46.  I lost points for not actually reading a book while I was taking the nerd quiz; not bugging people about books after I've recommended them (point of pride for me, because it takes a lot of self control), not having a pet with a literary name (but I vow that my next pet will!), and not owning a first-edition book.

You may be wondering where the Australia book is and why I'm wasting time on book surveys instead of reading Down Under.  I've had a hard time settling on an Australia book because, unlike the little countries like Armenia and Albania where there are too few options, the Aussies have way too many to choose from.  I've already read some good ones and am enjoying the search for the Australia book that wants to call out my name for the blog.  So far I haven't found it but have enjoyed a few other novels.  Here's what I've been spending time on, in case you need a recommendation:

Remember Me Like This, by Bret Anthony Johnston - Really enjoyed this low-key psychological thriller about a family whose abducted son returns home after four years.

Year of No Sugar, by Eve O. Schaub - This was an okay-but-not-my-favorite memoir about a family that (sort of) gives up sugar for a year. 

The Storied Life of A. J. Fikry, by Gabrielle Zevin - A novel about books!  This was a lovely story about family and the importance of learning to trust.  It was a nice, light read ... perfect for a cold day, wrapped up in a blanket, with nothing to do but immerse yourself in the story.

The Girl on the Train, by Paula Hawkins - Sometimes I just like to read the bestsellers so I can partake in casual book discussions.

P.S. I'm still taking suggestions for Australia books!  You can leave a comment here or email me at theworldbybook@gmail.com.  Thanks!

Aruba: Loving Natalee

 

 

LOVING NATALEE

by Beth Holloway

 

 

 

 

I can't seem to write this blog piece about Beth Holloway's Loving Natalee.  What can you say about a book that tells the story of a promising young woman's disappearance and her heartbroken mother's painful journey to find her and eventually, to reconcile the mystery of her loss?  I've written, revised, scrapped the whole thing, started over, puzzled about it, and am still stuck.

It's hard to imagine anyone not being familiar with the Natalee Holloway tragedy, but in case you're not, Wikipedia offers as good as summary as any.  What you should know about the book is that while it isn't the most well-written piece of writing, it's gut-wrenching exploration of Beth's pain and helplessness followed by her strength and determination pretty much supersedes any critique you may otherwise feel compelled to offer.  It just doesn't feel right.  So I'm not going to do it. 

I'll be honest.  I selected this book because there were literally no others set in Aruba that I was willing to read.  I spent a lot of time searching, using all of my standard book-finding resources as well as my good friend, Google.  Some biblio-circumnavigators don't even include Aruba in their list of countries so I couldn't use other blogs.  There are Aruban writers, of course, but apparently their books are published in Dutch or Papiamento, not English.  I found a couple of Young Adult novels, several books in what seemed to be the "bodice ripper" genre of romance, and a series of quasi-mysteries by Daniel Putkowski, an American writer who spends half of his time in Aruba and feels at home there.  I tried a few chapters of Daniel Putkowski's An Island Away, but I found the characters unappealing from the onset so I abandoned it quickly.  And when my Facebook plea for recommendations went unanswered, I decided to read Beth Holloway's tribute to her beautiful daughter, who disappeared during her senior trip to Aruba.  

 

You should read this book if you are curious about how things work (or don't work) in Aruba's justice and legal system.  Take note of Beth's excellent advice at the end of the book when she talks about how to be safe while traveling outside of the United States.  She's not complimentary about the State Department (which I found to be unfair ... full disclosure: I have been a vice-consul at two overseas posts and spent many years working in Washington in support of American citizens who encounter difficulties while traveling).  But she does get it right when she says that once you're outside of the United States, things work differently and U.S. officials' ability to influence a foreign government is often quite limited.  And it's okay that she's angry about this.  In fact, she's earned the right to be angry about whatever she wants to.  I'd be remiss though if I didn't take this opportunity to say here that vice-consuls around the world do great work for Americans, and we are so fortunate that our U.S. passports grant us significant support and advocacy when we are overseas.

You should also read this book if you are curious about how the mother of a lost child keeps standing.  Beth takes us on that journey with her, from shock to anger to determination to crippling grief to resolution.  Her family, friends, and faith get her through to where she is now.  She writes a lot about hope and is an amazing example of how someone use their personal tragedy to do something good in the world. 

Beth Holloway writes about what's commonly accepted as life's most unthinkable loss.  Her book succeeds in making the Holloway family real, something that news stories often fail to do since we read about them or watch news stories on tv from the comfort and safety of our own homes where it's easy to think "that will never happen to me."  But it did happen to Natalee ... and it's still happening to Beth and the rest of their family.  I suspect it will never end.

 

 



Armenia: Gilgamesh

GILGAMESH

 by Joan London



As I'm finding with many of the small countries in the world, there isn't a lot of English language fiction set in Armenia.  I had already read what is likely the most well known novel about Armenia, Chris Bohjalian's The Sandcastle Girls.  So of the few others that I found, I selected Gilgamesh, by Joan London, because of its theme of immigration and the experience of being in an unfamiliar place, which (as you have probably realized) is a favorite of mine.  The novel's namesake, Gilgamesh is the protagonist in The Epic of Gilgamesh, a poem written around 2100 BC that is considered the first work of literature.  He is a demi-god and king who has many great adventures, but it is his friendship with Enkidu, a wild man created to subdue Gilgamesh's arrogance, that serves as the thematic undercurrent of the novel.

In Joan London's Gilgamesh, we follow the lives of Edith, beginning with her parents' migration from England to rural Australia, and of Jim, her illegitimate son.  Edith and her sister, Frances, grow up in extreme poverty, in a remote part of Australia on the coast where their only exposure to the outside world is through a small seaside resort that was built next to their patch of unfarmable land.  When their cousin Leopold and his Armenian friend, Aram arrive unexpectedly for a visit, the world opens up to Edith and she begins to imagine, for the first time in her life, the possibilities beyond what she has experienced of life thus far.  Their departure breaks her heart because Leopold has become a treasured friend and confidante, but even more so because of Edith's brief romance with Aram, who leaves Australia for his homeland, Armenia, never knowing of Edith's pregnancy.

Gilgamesh

Despite the trouble brewing in Eastern Europe as the world faces war in the late 1930's, Edith, too, decides to leave Australia behind and sets out for Armenia, which she has built up to be a magical place where she will find Aram, introduce him to their son Jim, and live happily ever after.  And so she sets out with Jim, crossing the ocean to England, then heading overland by train into Armenia, a country that everyone wants to leave and no one, other than her, is trying to enter.  Her life there is hardly the adventure she had imagined, but she lands among friends: Hagop, a kind Armenian she meets on the train; his wife of convenience, a musician who was injured in a bombing and is confined to a wheelchair; and Tati, the elderly grandmother who needs constant care but keeps Edith centered through her words of wisdom. 

Edith waits for Aram until she literally cannot wait any longer and, because of the dangerous conditions in Soviet-ruled Armenia, she and Jim must leave.  Here, she encounters Leopold once more ... steadfast, loyal, and unassailable Leopold ... and within the safety of his love and friendship, begins her journey to return home.

Gilgamesh is a beautiful story of searching, not just for one thing but for all things that make life whole.  Along with Edith, Frances is searching (for love); Leopold is searching (for meaning); Hagop is searching (for redemption); Irina is searching (for reconciliation); and little Jim, as he grows up, is searching (for himself).  The prose is poetic in places, clear and direct in others, and at all times, giving us a glimpse of Edith's innermost dreams as they shift from desperation to leave back to desperation to return home. 

Other Books Considered:

All the Light There Was, by Nancy Kricorian


Previously Read:

The Sandcastle Girls, by Chris Bohjalian