Her Grace’s rating: 4.5 out of 5 stars
Genre: magical realism/ ghost story
I read it as a: paperback
Source: my own collection
Length: 286 pp
Published by: Perennial (1 Oct 2000)
In the late 1800s during Ireland’s Potato Famine, hundreds of Irish immigrated to America and Canada on ‘famine ships.’ One ship, the Tir na Nog, ran aground off the coast of Maine and most aboard died, including a young girl, Aisling. In modern times, artist Oisin MacDara lives an almost hermit life in the woods of Tiranogue Island. He rarely has any contact with other people and the islanders have come to accept him on his own terms. On Samhain night, Oisin lights a candle and leaves his door open, as tradition dictates, and from the mist comes a girl. Oisin had been able to see ghosts and spirits in his youth, but lost the ability when his twin sister died. In all the years since, Oisin has tried to figure out how to bring his Sight back. Now, it seems he is able to See spirits once more, or at least one spirit, who enters his life on Samhain night.
Carey’s novel is a delight. It is atmospheric and gothic, full of Irish myth and tradition. Readers get a sense of disbelief at first when Aisling wanders in out of the shadows, and, very slowly, come to realise the girl is the same as the one who died on the famine ship. As Aisling’s stay with Oisin becomes longer, she begins to grow at an astronomical rate, catching up to her adult self and gaining the experiences she missed out on in life. Oisin reluctantly takes on the role of provider, by turns pleased for and interested in the companionship and resenting her presence in his quiet, solitary life. With the help of an open-minded and trusting neighbor, Deirdre, Oisin is able to give Aisling a lifetime of experiences in what he knows will be the limited time available to her.
The character development here was extraordinary. I loved seeing Aisling’s growth and how she changed from a scared little girl into a self-confident young woman. Oisin, too, changed and grew to accept love and help from others. I identified with him a lot since I am also a very solitary person and don’t trust easily.
Various themes of loss, mental illness, sexuality, and inflexible social customs made for some very rich discussion during this particular book club meeting.
Favorite part/ lines (potential spoilers!):
- It’s the same as day turning to night. Your life is like the day, and after death comes, it’s all different – not worse or better, just different – because, as at night, the world no longer looks the same. It’s why twilight is the holy time, when day and night come together, and the living and the dead can meet one another on the road.
- “It’s wrong to spend your life afraid, Oisin,” she said. “No matter what you see.”
- What that night became for her was the moment she stepped away from all her definitions and into herself. Suddenly it no longer mattered who she was, only that she was. She stopped editing her thoughts and analyzing her actions. When she looked in the mirror, her brown eyes were tired or angry, often amused, but no longer plain. Beneath the fears and posing, she had been there all along.
- Doesn’t he know that every minute counts? That waiting is often the same as missing a lifetime?
- My mom says if you wait for people to read your mind, most of them will hear only your silence. … Which is why I have to tell you something,” Gabe says. … “When I’m old enough to have my first love, I’m going to remember you. Is that okay?”
The Unit by Ninni Holmqvist
Her Grace’s rating: 3.5 out of 5 stars
I read it as a: paperback
Source: my own collection
Length: 268 pp
Published by: Other Press (9 June 2009)
In this dystopian society, when people reach a certain age (50 for women, 60 for men), and have no family or an irreplaceable skill, they are sent to live in ‘reserve banks’, like retirement homes. It is not optional and everyone goes if they didn’t have children in their life. Dorrit Weger dutifully checks into the Second Reserve Bank Unit on her 50th birthday. From there, she makes new friends among the other residents, engages in experiments with new drugs and therapies, and eventually begins making donations as needed and required to the outside community. She and her fellow residents are there to provide their organs to people who need them and who have been deemed of more value to society.
This was fascinating, if somewhat derivative of many other dystopian novels. As with many books dealing with the lives of women in the future, this society has decided that people who have never had children are ‘dispensable’ and are therefore a perfect group upon which to experiment with new drugs or psychological therapies, forcing them to donate organs to indispensable recipients until they make their final donation, usually their heart or lungs. It is terrifying because I can see something like this happening. What was the most disturbing of all was how quickly the Unit’s residents accepted their fate and even managed to convince themselves that it was for the good.
It was also just…sad…since Dorrit only found love for the first time once she entered the Unit and it would necessarily be cut short by the practices they are enduring. While I do NOT think one has to have a great love to have a great life or to be complete, it is sad when someone wants that and only finds it at the end of her life.
There is a lot of material to unpack about what makes a life or a person worthwhile and fulfilled. Why is having children the be all and end all of a person’s worth? It takes no skill at all to have a baby. I always look side-eye at anyone who says having their children was their greatest accomplishment. Really? I LOVE my child but having her took no particular skill on my part. I’m prouder of the things I’ve written, dragged out of my brain by sheer determination, persistence, and force of will, because those things took a lot of effort. Saying this does not mean I am not proud of my daughter. I am proud – of HER accomplishments and the person she is becoming, not of simply having her. See the difference? And who is to say what I accomplish is somehow more important than, say, my friends who have chosen to remain childless? It’s not like we aren’t overpopulated as it is. Humans are like cockroaches. We’re all over the fucking place. It’s just a scary thing to think that people might one day be valued on their ability to reproduce rather than on their actual ability to contribute.
This was another excellent book for a book club. There were so many things to consider from ethics, love, the value of a human life, and spirit. We had a very lively discussion for this one!
There were many lines that I highlighted while reading this, but the one below sums up everything perfectly for me:
- “People who read books,” he went on, “tend to be dispensable. Extremely.”