Colours in her Hands

 

Colours in her Hands / Alice Zorn
Calgary, AB: Freehand Books, c2024.
350 p.

This was an intriguing book that I liked for a number of reasons. There's embroidery, there's Montreal, dance, colour and family drama. 

Mina is close to 30 - she lives independently although she has Down's Syndrome. Her slightly older brother Bruno is her legal caretaker, and this responsibility is something he takes very seriously, making sure he is always available when Mina (or her social workers) have an issue - which is often. His girlfriend Gabriela loves Mina, but Bruno's refusal to have a child because of his responsibilities is driving them apart at the beginning of the book. After Gabriela leaves him, he meets Iris, a clothing designer who had come across Mina in a park and discovered her artistic talents. 

Mina "knits" - it's really embroidery, but Mina calls it knitting. It seems to come naturally to her; the colours speak to her and she just knows what to put together. It's an emotional connection. When Iris discovers that Mina has bags full of her embroideries, she sees fame and fortune ahead -- this outsider textile artist needs to be known. But this goal seems to exclude her telling Bruno or even Mina herself about her plans. 

These stories swirl around each other, and include Bruno's work as a prop designer for a small theatre as well as some other side stories. There are questions of how well two people know each other, what kinds of things are revealed or kept secret, and of course ethical questions arise around art and ownership and who has the right to share things. 

The book is fascinating, and Mina's character is strong and compelling (the author says she was inspired by her own sister-in-law). But I did find there was a lot of extra stuff going on that made the book maybe a bit longer than needed. And the ending was a bit off for me; there was a character introduced near the end who had a problematic relationship with Mina and that was never resolved. 

But I did find this so different from anything I've read lately, and it was full of art and music and people who live intense lives and care about things. I'm not sure I really liked any of the characters much, but I enjoyed a lot about this story, and loved the descriptions of Mina and her "colours" as well as Iris' sewing. Other stitchers will understand! I've read Zorn's earlier novel, Five Roses, also a great Montreal novel, and am happy that I was able to finally read this one too. 

(review first appeared on Following The Thread) 

Let's Move the Needle!

 

Let's Move the Needle / Shannon Downey
North Adams, MA: Storey, c2024.
254 p.

I haven't been writing many reviews lately - I've been reading but the state of the world is distracting me a lot. However, this book was helpful to read, and I'd recommend it to anyone else looking for practical ideas and steps to help you move forward. 

I bought this recently, as it falls so much into my areas of interest -- craftivism in particular. It's written by a woman who is a stitcher (badasscrossstitch.com) and a long-time activist. It was very inspiring. 

Her area is cross-stitch and embroidery, so that's the examples she uses. But this book isn't just about the craft, it's really focused on the activism part. She encourages all artistic practices - fibre arts, visual arts, dance, music, etc, to get involved, using whatever your practice is in the service of activist ends. 

I really liked this book, it was practical, wide-ranging, and inspiring all in one. She goes over some ways that craft has been used in political settings in the past, then shares some contemporary projects, but the heart of the book is the introspection required to be effective. She has many interactive questions to go through so that you can narrow your focus down on the 1-3 main issues you want to be engaging with. It's an important element, becoming aware of what is important to you and why. And then how you'll pursue that in future. 

Once you have an idea of where you would like to focus, the rest of the book explains how to work with others - how to form groups, keep them running, use the logic model to plan outcomes (ie: know the WHY of any project), evaluate, and maybe even end a project. She incorporates instruction on tactics, planning documents and more, to make this easy for those new to organizing. 

She does mention in her opening that craftivism can sometimes be seen as 'gentle' and non-confrontational, but that's not where's she's at with it. Her craft is a tool to speak loudly about the social justice you want to see. 

With the useful tools, the logical layout, and the points illustrated with some her own hoop art, this is a great book. Very to the point, it has a goal and gives you the wherewithal to join in and, as she says, "Build Community and Make Change". Worthwhile for anyone interested in craftivism, community building and Moving the Needle! 

(first reviewed at FollowingTheThread)

Mina's Matchbox

Mina's Matchbox / Yoko Ogawa
trans. from the Japanese by Stephen Snyder
TO: McLelland & Stewart, 2024, c2006.
288 p.

I picked up this one recently when it came into my local library. Even though I haven't really enjoyed the other books I've read by this author, I thought this one was appealing enough to give it a try. It was fairly good -- I did like it better than her other work -- but in the end I thought it was pretty forgettable. 

It's 1972, and Tomoko is being sent to live with her aunt's family in coastal Ashiya when her single mother needs to go back to school full time. Tomoko is telling us this nostalgic story from a later viewpoint, and the experience is filtered through a haze of memory. She finds a house of women: her cousin Mina, her aunt, German grandmother, and housekeeper Yoneda, not to mention the pygmy hippo Pochiko who lives in the yard. Her charismatic uncle and older male cousin are only there intermittently. She tells the reader about the year in this magical house with her cousin who is strange but perfect, beautiful, a reader, creative, and imperious, all while also treated with kid gloves because of her illness. All of Tomoko's memories are glazed over with how wonderful everything about this year is for her; it's interesting while you're reading the setup, but then nothing really happens. Everyone is one thing and keeps on being that one thing. The title comes from Mina's collection of matchboxes; she is desperate for more, and Tomoko finds out that Mina keeps them all and creates tiny narratives to match the pictures on the boxes, inscribing the tiny stories inside each one. 

The inclusion of a pygmy hippo and Mina's fixation on matchboxes give this story the odd features that are supposed to make it stand out. I thought the tiny stories that Mina created for each matchbox were unique, and would have liked more of them. I could have existed quite happily without the hippo. Or the strange chapters about Mina and Tomoko's obsession with volleyball, which seemed to come out of nowhere and go on forever, maybe as a way to include Ogawa's commentary on the Munich Olympics. I felt this element was shoehorned in, it didn't feel congruent with the rest of the story and also a bit tone deaf in light of current events. 

While the book started out with a lot of potential, I found it dragged a bit and like I've noted, included set pieces that seemed to be there just for an authorial comment, or to pad out the length perhaps. There were a number of elements that reminded me strongly of Banana Yoshimoto's 1989 novel Goodbye Tsugumi: Mina's sickly nature, Tomoko only having a mother and so having to stay with family in a house near the ocean (and in both the house itself is an important character), the relationship between cousins, and a few more vague feelings of similarity, although much of the plot differs. 

In any case, while I thought this had appeal, particularly around the older women in the book, it didn't quite do it for me. While I did like it more than previous titles by Ogawa, I'm not sure it has convinced me to keep reading her future work. 

There's No Such Thing as an Easy Job

There's No Such Thing as an Easy Job / Kikuko Tsumura
trans. from the Japanese by Polly Barton
London: Bloomsbury, 2020, c2015.
416 p.

I certainly meant to get a few more reviews shared in January! But I for sure have to share this one as part of the Japanese Literature Challenge hosted by Dolce Bellezza. I finished this book a while ago but it has stuck with me. I really liked it, from the slower pace to the focus on a working life -- I find this not so common with contemporary life. 

In this novel, our unnamed narrator is looking for an easy job. We follow her through five attempts to settle into a job that won't require interaction with people and won't demand too much of her. At first she finds a job right across from her home, which entails watching video footage of a writer, alone in a room-- super easy, right? But she still finds ways to interact with the few other people in this office and eventually finds that she can't stomach the ethics, so quits. And goes back to her employment counsellor for another try, and again, and again. She finds jobs writing ad copy with an almost mythic coworker, writing cracker fortunes, handing out flyers, and finally as a kind of caretaker in a forested park. 

But each of these brings with it new dilemmas and even a boring job becomes eventful for her. There is always something in a job that forces her to develop connections to other people and/or office drama. She just cares too much; there really is no such thing as an easy job. 

It can feel like a short story collection as you go, but by the last story all the threads come together and we find out why she was looking for an easy job all along. I found it relatable and touching. There's a lot about work culture in Japan rolled into this story, as well as women's experiences in particular. I liked the measured pace of this and the quirky details that made each job both interesting and deadly routine, no matter how odd it was, something that's likely familiar to many of us who've worked in similar surroundings. These small details made this story stick in my mind and I've thought about it often since I finished it. It's not a Japanese cozy, no cats in sight here, but I liked it all the more for that.

 

Fitzgerald's Bookshop

 

The Book Shop / Penelope Fitzgerald
Boston: Mariner Books, 1997, c1978.
123 p.

Ah, opening a bookshop! Isn't it everyone's dream? (I tried it myself at one point; harder than it looks). In this book, probably fairly well known now thanks to the movie, Florence Green decides to start a bookshop in Hardborough. 

This is 1959, it's a small seaside town, and Florence decides to take her widow's inheritance and start a bookshop, because of course a town without one desires one! But she encounters many, many obstacles. First off, a cold, old building with a damp cellar - and apparently a poltergeist too. And then suspicious locals. And envious shopkeepers once she begins to become a bit of a success. And spite from the local woman who considers herself the artistic arbiter of the area, and doesn't like someone else claiming culture. 

Because it's Fitzgerald writing I didn't expect any goodness to be rewarded, or for the powerful and selfish to do anything but succeed in their bullying. And, well, I was right. I do find her quite bleak and cynical a lot of the time. Even though her writing is sharp, crisp, acidic and never sentimental, which can be refreshing. She has an eye for the ways in which people reveal who they are, and the ways in which privilege corrupts. The insularity of this small town, and the ways in which those with connections rule the roost, even if they are unworthy of it, is finely drawn here. 

The highlights of this story are the bookish bits. Any reader will enjoy the discussion of the books themselves, while as a librarian and former bookseller, the parts about the day to day operations of the shop were entertaining and relatable. 

But in the end, this is a sad book with a depressing ending. Mulish insularity and small town politics win the day and the idealist, the lover of books and gentle soul, fails in her quest to educate and enlarge the world for these residents. I can't say that I love Fitzgerald's writing - I admire her skill, and find much to appreciate, but her cynicism about human nature is often off-putting for me as a reader. This one is hard to evaluate because of that balance between cleverness, bookishness, and the opposing idea that nasty people always come out on top. It felt maybe too realistic to really take to heart. 

A Winter's Love

 

A Winter's Love / Madeleine L'Engle
NY: Open Road Media, 2017. c1957.
356 p.

I have always loved Madeleine L'Engle, since I read A Wrinkle in Time as a young reader. I've tried to read most of her work over the years, but have missed a few, this one included. It was available in my library so I decided to read it now. 

It was ok; very of its time, 1957 to be exact. The plot is that Emily Brown, wife and mother, is living in Switzerland for a year during her husband's sabbatical. Well, it was supposed to be a sabbatical, but he has lost his teaching job so it's really just time away from home -- everything was set so they decided to go ahead. They have 2 daughters, one an older teen and one a 6 year old (who reads very young). We find out further into the book that they had another daughter who died when she was 8 -- this adds to the feeling of estrangement in this marriage. After that experience, and the loss of his job, Courtney has withdrawn emotionally from Emily. And now, in Switzerland, they meet up with an old New York friend, Abe Fielding. And he and Emily struggle with the fact that they are falling in love. 

Along with this key dilemma, we have the older daughter Vee and her friend Mimi home for the holidays (this is set over Christmas, which is why I thought I'd read it now, but it is very much not festive, barely relevant to the story at all). Mimi is very mature and worldly wise, but Vee is so neurotic. She has hysterics over her parents behaviours (all quite mild), she takes everything way too hard, and makes herself sick with anxiety. Emily herself is slightly neurotic and can hardly make up her mind to anything. 

And there's a nearby 'friend', Gertrude, who is ill and living in a chalet there with a man - unmarried! Gasp! Gertrude was a resistance fighter in the war, which is very close, not even 10 years in the past. This colours the book as well. But Gertrude is also supremely bored, self-centred and melodramatic. She precipitates some of the action, both intentionally and accidentally.  

I really liked the setting of this book, and the very natural realism of war still overshadowing the characters. The characters have artistic leanings - piano, poetry, classical music, etc. - as expected in any of L'engle's books I've read. I always look for the artists and scientists in her books, it's an element I really enjoy. And I like her way of writing. 

But overall I found this plot far too full of indecision, melodrama and neuroticism to really enjoy it. The core dilemma is a bit dated and some of the side characters are almost unbearably unlikeable. I have a few more of L'engle's books still unread, though, and this won't keep me from reading them. Or rereading some of the others that I haven't read for years! 

The Buddha in the Attic

 

The Buddha in the Attic / Julie Otsuka
NY: Knopf, c2011.
144 p.

I checked out this book from my library mainly because of my Century of Books project - it was a year I was missing, and this was a book I'd heard of before. I'm so glad I did, because it was a great read. 

In eight short sections, Otsuka outlines the lives of a group of 'picture brides' coming to San Francisco from Japan in the early 20th Century. She follows their fortunes as they meet their husbands (none like their photos) and work hard in the fields, shops or as maids. In very few words she illuminates a wide range of lives - from their relationships with their husbands, children, wider local Japanese community, those left at home and of course American society. Abusive husbands, childbirth, prejudice, hard hard work, all is shown here. 

The writing style in this book is one of the highlights for me as well. The narration is like a chorus, using "we" at all times, even when describing an individual experience. It really works and I found it both poetic and really effective. It's incantatory, revealing the shared experience of these Japanese women. 

The final section of the book is set during the start of the Japanese Internment camps during WWII. It's disturbing and so visceral. After building up the life stories of the women who worked so hard to belong in their new homes, seeing the senseless war mania that led to the camps is horrifying. 

This last section also uses the same "we" narrative, but it shifts to the non-Japanese people left in the towns after the Japanese have been carted off. I didn't think this worked as well, after the rest of the book focusing entirely on the inner lives of the Japanese women. But it was necessary to show what remained, and the behaviour of those who hadn't said anything one way or another in the face of this event. 

The feel of the book is a little dream-like, a little epic, even if it is pretty short. It's a powerful and sensory read, one that opens up a part of history that's important to tell. A great find.