Five recent reads about characters facing life challenges that are almost too much to bear: bereavement; chronic illness; relationship crises and more. See what you think.
The Plimsoll Line by Juan Gracia ArmendárizMy rating: 3 of 5 stars
Like an overloaded ship in the nineteenth century (which is the origin of the title), Gabriel is sinking under the weight of a surfeit of tragic life events. His only daughter has died in a traffic accident, his wife has left him and he's had to leave his job through ill health. His days have narrowed to pottering in the garden, smoking and talking to the cat, while fielding calls from his ex-wife about selling the house. His main activity is taking a taxi to the nearest town for gruelling sessions of haemodialysis.
I appreciated how the author depicts Gabriel as numbed by his experiences, although this does have a distancing effect. Plus, although there were beautiful descriptions, I didn't enjoy the opening pages' focus on the house rather than character, and repeated reference to an 'anonymous observer' didn't work for me.
The novella is translated from the Spanish by Jonathan Dunne. Thanks to Rebecca Foster for bringing it to my attention.
Starling Days by Rowan Hisayo BuchananMy rating: 3 of 5 stars
Oscar wants his wife, Mina, to be happy, but neither of them realises what a challenge that poses for someone who overdosed on her wedding night. He hides his own vulnerabilities in spreadsheets and compulsive exercise, while she mopes about. What will happen when he has to leave her to go on a business trip?
Despite the dramatic opening, I found the early chapters rather dull but ultimately enjoyed it.
Cat and The Dreamer by Annalisa CrawfordMy rating: 4 of 5 stars
Fifteen years and half a lifetime ago Julia stopped living when she survived a suicide pact and her friend died. Now her fantasies are more real than her humdrum life in a dead-end job and stuck at home with her parents. Will the new man at work rekindle her enthusiasm? Or is it already too late? Beautiful prose takes us to the heart of this sensitive topic with an ending that made me question everything I'd read before.
Unsettled Ground by Claire FullerMy rating: 3 of 5 stars
Jeanie and Julius have lived with their mother in a crumbling country cottage for all of their fifty-one years, a step apart from the modern world. But now she's dead and the twins are discovering her secrets, and the debt that will leave them hungry and homeless as well as bereaved.
I loved the writing and felt real sympathy for the two main characters but, apart from the brilliant penultimate reveal, I found the plot somewhat contrived
Sorrow and Bliss by Meg MasonMy rating: 2 of 5 stars
Such mixed feelings about this novel. It’s described as funny and witty but I didn’t laugh until page 331. For the first two thirds I felt swamped by millennial self-pity as a young woman struggles to build herself an acceptable life. I didn’t think she could irritate me any further, but then she tells us about her life-changing diagnosis of — —. Yes, it’s actually — —! As you must know, — — carries a stigma, but it’s also liberating for the protagonist. Sadly not for this reader as it just felt as if the author couldn’t be bothered to research a proper condition to explain her character’s struggles. Generally, I don’t think mental health diagnoses are necessary in fiction but, if an author wants to use one, I’d rather she’d risk getting it wrong than tell us the diagnosis is double dash.
But I did appreciate some of the later chapters: there’s genuine psychological depth in the exploration of the difficulties of accommodating oneself to living with a long-term condition and finding the right balance between minimising it so much you’re in denial and letting it dominate every relationship, every aspect of your life.
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This week’s flash fiction challenge is to write a 99-word story about a dog in the desert. Inspired by my Cat and the Dreamer, I had to go for the metaphorical approach. |
A Black Dog Where Nothing Grows
At fifteen, life was a garden on the cusp of spring. Until you touched it with your frosty fingers and killed the nascent buds.
At thirty, life is a barren landscape, a desert. The black dog of depression smothers all new growth. I get up, go to work, go to bed, chained to the canine’s shadow. Rinse and repeat, each day no different to the last.
The breeze stirs the sand and there, in the dust, a chewed bone. Curious, the dog spins circles around it. Is this a relic of more dead dreams or a nudge to play?
At fifteen, life was a garden on the cusp of spring. Until you touched it with your frosty fingers and killed the nascent buds.
At thirty, life is a barren landscape, a desert. The black dog of depression smothers all new growth. I get up, go to work, go to bed, chained to the canine’s shadow. Rinse and repeat, each day no different to the last.
The breeze stirs the sand and there, in the dust, a chewed bone. Curious, the dog spins circles around it. Is this a relic of more dead dreams or a nudge to play?
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