I wasn‘t sure if I was ready to read a book about the pandemic. But I was in good hands with Erdrich. This book pulses with life, with the love of books and words and people and traditions, and with the violence that permeates American history. It‘s told from the point of view of Tookie, an Ojibwe woman who spent a decade in jail. It weaves in and out of fiction and reality with a light touch. And, at the end, I felt a little less haunted.
Books & bookstores, power of a sentence, booksellers as essential workers, indigenous language. End=reading list. Tookie bursts from first few pages like a whisky- & adrenaline-fueled rocket. A bookish ghost wants in. Louise herself pops up in a bookseller cameo. Yes, lags & sags in parts, but a lack of focus & some disoriented haunting fits a pandemic year novel. A warmth to these characters even as they wander. The door is open. Go. 2021
Still, nice sleeve cover, also.
I think, I grabbed this book from a book thrift years ago because I found the blurb on the back interesting.
I‘m sure it took me too long to pick it up since then . I‘m pretty sure that my bookish interests have shifted in the meantime. 🤷🏽♀️ Sorry, not sorry.
I like the hard book cover. 😍 But I dislike the book. I scarcely made 100 pages and since I began reading, I kept asking myself if there finally will be something happening. It‘s just boring story telling for me. 🙄 (Insofar as I want to grant the book something like a plot, a story.)
I didn‘t like how disrespectful the men talked about Caroline, either, and found myself less and less interested in the characters and the plot.
So: Time to bail.
Wonderful characters! Also, the novel captured very well the emotions that many of us went through in 2020. #tob2022
First book finished for the #JoyousJanuary readathon! @Andrew65