Friday 31 December 2021

The Peculiar Life of a Lonely Postman ~ Denis Theriault

 

 One has to wonder just how much of this short, little book is lost in translation?  Set in Montreal, Canada, the story was created in French, but the version that I read was translated into English by Liedewy Hawke.  I mention this because, unlike most books translated into English, this one must have been particularly challenging I imagine as the text contains numerous three line poems written in the Japanese Haiku style.  I often wonder how much of a poem's meaning is conveyed through its syntax and word choice. How can a poem be translated when  the poet has spent so long threading each syllable, each word together for a specific effect?  From Shakeaspeare to Seamus Heaney - the intended meanings are surely lost in translation, changed, mutated at the very least. 


However, the world of Bilodo the postman is as familiar as any postman I have ever met, though his obsessions and blatant - illegal - disregard for the rules of the postal service are what sets him apart and keep us reading to the end. I cannot say much about the plot - I would hate to spoil it for curious readers - but it leaps and bounds, ofen into the realm of disbelief and you have to make a bit of an effort to follow it wherever it leads. 

Above all else - this is a book about fantasy and what ifs - where Thériault has let his imagination run wild. He creates a world where characters are not limited by financial concerns - who needs a job! - and enjoy endless resources - why have one apartment when I can have two!  Still, as readers, we are only too guilty of imagining our way into a good story, and this is what Thériault does here. He follows where Bilodo leads and ends up someplace unexpected. The ending of the book was quite clever and had me reaching for the sequel immediately. This has to be a good sign, doesn't it?

Truth be told, it was the cover that drew me to this book - a beautiful soft back, textured cover, that had the feel of rough handmade paper suitable for watercolouring. Nomoco is the Japanese artist and illustrator responsible for art that wraps around this text and I am such a fan.  And so we return to where we began - the international appeal of this book. A team of creators from many diverse backgrounds have produced this text that will at times make you blush, but more often will challenge you to believe that the impossible is possible in a busy street in Montreal, in the rain. 

By Michelle Burrowes

Sunday 31 January 2021

The Girl with The Louding Voice

It has been a while since I read a book that I simply could not put down. This was such a book. I was gripped from the first page to the last to learn the fate of this charming Nigerian character, Adunni and I could not rest until I had. Everything from the unusual grammar and syntax to the description of household objects and social norms convinced me to suspend my disbelief and believe completely in this main character all all who journey through these pages.

The story is grim, yet happy - such a conflict. I still am feeling mixed emotions at the story's end.  It must be said that the book contains details of rape and attempted rape and as such I do not think it suitable for everyone.  

Above all else though, is the incredible sound of this book. There is singing, yes, as Adunni's beautiful voice longs to express itself.  But as the title of the book suggests, having a voice is a central theme.  Again and again, characters tell Adunni to stop singing.  This is not because she does not have a nice voice - indeed there is power in it. She is able to sing an unborn baby and its expectant mother to sleep.  She uses her voice to sooth her terminally ill mother and it attracts compliments from others who hear her sing as she works.  But the malevolent characters in the book try to take away her voice.  She is beaten by Big Mama for singing in the garden.  The brutality in the face of Adunni's happiness is shocking. 

But there is another sound that fills this book, it is the sound of Adunni's speech. Adunni's voice is the voice of the narrator in this personal account of life as a 14 year old Nigerian girl. The author uses Adunni's vernacular and writes it phonetically so that we can hear her voice rippling through every page. I still can hear her phrasing ringing in my ears days after finishing the text.  

Adunni meets a neighbour who tries to teach her written English, and we see and hear Adunni change her language as she educates herself, but not entirely!  Adunni masters her use of words as she does her circumstances, learns, adapts and thrives, despite a difficult start in life. She finds her voice - a louding voice - and we know that for Adunni, there will be no going back. 

This book will creep inside your heart and make its home there: a nest where Adunni will sing and sing forever - with a strong, full, louding voice. 

By Michelle Burrowes