Leah Hager CohenReseñas

Maybe stories don’t make things happen, but maybe through stories we find we are not alone.
from To & Fro by Leah Hager Cohen

Ani follows a man off “to and fro,” a journey in which she encounters different groups and new insights. Her first journey took place after she and her mother were exiled from their home in the middle of winter, during which Ani’s mother died.

Ani has a brown book, although she cannot read. A kitten she calls Company that she struggles to keep alive. A scroll in a bottle on a necklace.

Life is walking and arriving and leave-taking, each a place of learning and growth, each a place of gift receiving.

Turn the book around, and there is another story.

The psychologist diagnosed Oppositional defiant disorder. The psychotherapist mentioned executive function disorder. The neuropsychologist proclaimed Annamae had a “stellar brain.”

Annamae thought differently, deeply, and it made her lonely. She knew people could never understand each other, that words failed, language was a net through which words spilled “like pennies through the holes.” She would not do her creative writing assignment and was posed to fail the class. No one saw what she saw, the deadly seriousness of one’s complete control over the characters one created. She saw that letters had colors and personalities, and she recognized the stories that Rav Harriet told about alef-bet and the creation of the world.

She had a brown notebook called Company in which she wrote and drew, but lost it. She had a message in a bottle necklace, but it disappeared.

Fantasy or reality, each story is mesmerizing, taking one into an unforgettable and unique character’s deepest thoughts as she journeys through life. When you are finished reading both, you will want to turn the book again and keep reading, realizing how much more there is to discover.

Thanks to the publisher for a free book.

An interesting, short meditation on the positives and power of saying, "I don't know". But in the end, I felt it was stretched out a bit too much to allow it to be called/sold as a book.

Wow. This book snuck up on me. It seemed like an ordinary love story but became so much more. I had to re-read the ending the morning after I'd finished it just to be sure Esker did what she did.

Ann James is a teenager who has broken both her heels in a disturbing way. She is being tutored at home by her favourite teacher, Esker. Ann's parents are long separated, but still married. Her father, Wally and Esker fall in love. The private school were Esker works threatens to fire her for an inapproiate relationship with a married parent, and Esker must make a decision. Sounds like a beach read...chick lit, right? But it isn't. It's deeper.

The reviewer who posted before me wrote that she thought "Esker, might grow and chose to be a different person. She might step outside her comfort zone and chose to be happy and live life. But does she?" I say that's exactly what she did. She left her ghosts behind, and the safe job and home she'd known ever since graduation. She is becoming a new person, but not without a cost to herself and others.

This is a well written and thought-provoking book, but as I have said before, endings must be the hardest part to write. I felt that the event at the end of the book did not fit with the rest of it. I don't think the character would have done what was presented, but that's just me (can't say more without a spoiler). Otherwise, it is a good one.

My book club and I were pretty much in unison on this one: so much ado about ... what? The author seems to be working her way through a checklist of "contemporary fiction to-dos" ... eccentric family, prodigal son, dark family secret = check! Gender fluid characters, interracial romance, environmental activism, free range parenting = check! "Ripped from the headlines" subplot (a religious group poised to transform an established old town - will the community welcome them or close ranks?) = check! Whimsical ancestral home, precocious kid, and a bit with an animal = check! ... without bothering to connect these disparate narrative elements into any kind of cohesive whole.

The result is a story that has a lot going on but not much happening ... which can be okay if the author creates characters that you're vested in, but that doesn't happen here either because Cohen seems to believe that endowing characters with imaginative idiosyncrasies - a husband who loves baking, a wife who grooves on being fertile, a daughter who's into avant garde theater, a little kid who fancies himself a military scout - is enough to make them fully realized and endearing, but of course it's not. And maybe it's just me, but authors who employ third person limited narration shouldn't endow their characters with anachronistic perspectives and vocab just so the author can show off their wit and wokeness. Totally undermines any authenticity the author is attempting to establish.

I hung in there until the end because I kept thinking that something must be coming - some revelation or narrative twist that would tie all these meandering subplots together - but that never happens and now I kind of regret the time I spent on this, time I could have spent on something with more authenticity, depth, and genuine empathy.

Really not very interesting. Not based on facts, just one persons opinion.

Family books are usually my go to but this one was just all over the place and even though it got together somehow (after skimming through it) I couldn't get into it.

There's something about her writing style that I couldn't get into. I had to read sentences again and again to get the idea of what the author was saying. I was getting nowhere and I couldn't get much further than page 100.

I listened to the audio version and got tired of all the lists and digressions. If I'd been reading instead, I could have skipped over all that stuff. There was a principal story line that was the main plot driver, but ultimately seemed to be irrelevant to the point the author was trying to make. I feel like the book presented as a plot-driven story, but was really a "days in the life of these characters" book, and I'm not a big fan of "days in the life" books; I got really tired of it all by the end. I loved the early part of the book, though, some of the character development (Aunt Glad, I'm thinking of you) was really stunning. It just went on too long for me.

I was unable to finish this within the window of my library loan, so I had to wait 2 months to get it back, made for some interrupted reading, so I certainly finished the book in a different relationship than say in the middle, beyond the usual. The action takes place at house over several days, with some side journeys to the past (and the future) and vignettes that happen elsewhere in town. The story moves from character to character and I initially found this trick impressive, to have the narrative tone change so notably from person to person and convey a distinct personality and view of the world. I'm not sure that aspect of the book remained compelling by the end.

I see some reviews both deriding and celebrating the evocative descriptive language; I'm on the side of celebrating myself

It seems like there was a larger truth about life, family, chaos, home, change, etc. being hinted at but I think as often happens with books - and movies too - it's never made that clear and the ending falls off a bit of cliff. If you like the journey, this book is for you; if you want a destination, you might not find it here (although maybe you'll see something different than I did).

I really like Cohen's writing style, even though the narrative was totally disjointed. I don't know that she went "inside a deaf world" so much as provided vignettes of a particular deaf place. They were beautiful vignettes though; I was also very interested in her musings on being a hearing person in Deaf places. Her father had gained respect and acceptance despite being hearing by being a native signer with Deaf parents, while she was both hearing and a non-native signer which put her even further outside the community. Her grappling with even the idea of being an interpreter - that interpreters of every other language except ASL will only translate into their native language because one can only truly grasp all the nuance of meanings of a language if you learned it from birth - really got me thinking about the idea of hearing interpreters who aren't native signers, most of them, acting as an imperfect link between hearing and Deaf worlds. Very interesting.

Dit is zo'n boek waarbij ik van te voren dacht het prachtig te vinden. Maar ik vond het vooral langdradig. Het verhaal wordt door verschillende mensen verteld/bezien. Het speelt zich in verschillende tijden af. En hoewel de Engelstalige titel prachtig klinkt, vond ik het verhaal ontzetten voorspelbaar en vrij leeg. Er zaten soms best mooie beschrijvingen tussen, maar het bleef allemaal vooral erg vlak. Ik had gehoopt op meer.

A sprawling novel of family and friends gathered for a wedding, full of unique descriptions, philosophical musings, cultural dilemmas, and poignant relationships.

An exploration of the ramifications of a tragedy upon a whole family told from each member's point of view.

Novels centered around weddings can be a distinct pleasure. This one is tender, multi-faceted, and brimming with enjoyably conflicted narrators and rambunctious children. The setting is Rundle Junction, a small upstate NY town, infamous for a horrible tragedy in the early 1900s and now facing an influx of Haredim (ultra-Orthodox Jews). The bride, Clem, is the eldest of four children and is marrying her college girlfriend, Diggs, an African American woman whose voice and point of view, very unfortunately, is lacking. I believe this to be the book's only flaw. In the countdown of days leading up to the main theatrical event, parents Walter and Bennie (secretly pregnant again in her late 40s) have their hands overfull with unexpected guests, a dying great-aunt in an upstairs bedroom, alienated family, and uncertain weather. The author's tactic of providing glimpses of the distant future of many protagonists is very reassuring and welcome. It's a warm bath of a story.

Quotes: "What more acute loneliness than to be a stranger in the midst of a group of people who are knitted together in a most intimate way?"

"Pim [age 5] loves the news. The gravity of the voices, the sense that elsewhere in the world people are in charge, grown-up men and women tending to things, managing things, discussing things in a language he can't fully follow, a grey wash of gobbledygook. Every once in a while, a phrase emerges, glistening clear and pink, for him to seize."

"Fiebush, by then eighty-eight, liver-spotted as an overripe banana..."

"She looks smaller than ever under the wispy pink mohair, aglow like spun sugar in the sun. She looks not simply reduced but somehow concentrated, as if all that has evanesced was superfluous, while all that remains is essence."

Am I really so shallow that I like books just because of their cover? Because, yes, I am so shallow that I buy books mostly just on their cover. This book was definitely an instance of that: 68% cover, 15% reviews and the rest was the delightful tag/teaser blurb.

That being said, it was so good. It completely lived up the the cover. Hell, I'd definitely say it exceeded it!

This is a novel in 5 days and 4 generations. The Erlend/Blumenthals are a messy rural NY family contending with the pending nuptials of their eldest daughter, with an ailing great-aunt, an actual horde of children... oh yeah, and some serious religious, socio-economic, philosophical town drama.
Oh yeah, and at night we meet the mice. I liked the first Nocturne (as they're called), by the third I thought I'd hate them, but they again won me over in the end.

Seriously, there is so much going on here. But somehow the narrative just breezes through even the most chaotic of scenes. It is an effortless read that is still actually smart and clever and meaningful. How rare and magical is that?
There were very few - well, really just the one moment (near the end) - where I thought the author veered a little too hard toward ponderous. But mostly, the language is gorgeous and the author has so many wonderful lines throughout.

Each day is presented from a myriad of perspectives and features a cacaphony of experiences. Then comes the wedding day and all of the smaller narratives - and a couple surprise new ones - are tied up beautifully. I love that there is no epilogue; one genuinely isn't needed because the narrative is so sprawling and has occassionally tangented so artfully that we've already learned the fates of all the meaningful characters along the way before the book wraps up the final event. I just love the way this was done. This book just feel complete to me in a way that seldom ever happens. I always want more ending, but I just thought this one did it so well it didn't need more.

The meditations on family and community and Otherness are all so well done here. I'm not familiar enough with Hasidic/Orthodox Judaism (and the delicate differences therein) to really grasp all of it, but with that subplot, with the extended family dynamics, and the generations present in the cast of characters there are just so many amazing moments interrogating these issues in a non-intellectual, but non-saccharine way...

Also, Clem. I could not stand Clem but I'm so happy with the way her story arc went. I'm not entirely sure I got to see her learn enough, but I was really happy to see her learn a little.

The Blumenthal family is about to host a wedding: recent college graduate Clementine is getting married to her college girlfriend, Diggs, in a ceremony Clem designed herself to be part ritual, part theater. The story opens four days before the wedding, as the family matriarch, Bennie, is preparing the house and her three youngest (teenage Tom, Mantha, and little Pim), as well as harboring two secrets: one, she and her husband Walter have agreed to sell their house, which has been in Bennie's family for generations; and two, Bennie is pregnant again.

Though nearly all the action takes place within the house and its grounds, there is also tension within the town of Rundle Junction: Orthodox Jews are moving in, and longtime residents are nervous that it will change the character of their town, as it has in New Ashkelon. The Haredim divert money from public schools and other town resources and boycott small businesses that don't observe the Sabbath. There is much discussion and philosophizing about the nature of democracy and the history of the United States and privilege (Clem's betrothed, Diggs, is Black).

Family history, too, provides a backdrop for the wedding, for Great Aunt Glad has come, though she is only half-present, and halfway on to whatever comes next. Glad's memories of the (in)famous Rundle Junction pageant of 1927, in which 18 children died, lends weight to the story.

See also: Did You Ever Have A Family by Bill Clegg, How to Start A Fire by Lisa Lutz, The Children's Crusade by Ann Packer, The World Without You by Joshua Henkin, You or Someone Like You by Chandler Burr, Arcadia by Lauren Groff

Quotes

...dream moments pock her waking hours and light shines through those holes, too. (Aunt Glad, 57)

Such a leaky emotion, jealousy, it always showed through, like grease on a paper bag. (Bennie and Carrie, 97)

"But caring's easy. Knowing what to think is harder." (Tom to Lloyd, 128)

"I mean, don't we all have a responsibility to know what's going on? To make ourselves know. In general, in the world, isn't it our job to find out for ourselves. Figure out what we think....I think we have a duty not to believe things just because it's how we were raised." (Tom to Walter, 183)

...you need to give the audience familiar ground to stand on before whisking the rug out from under them. (Clem, 195)

...theater is in the business of both reflecting and affecting reality....whether theater aims...to reinforce things as they are, or whether it aims...to question and trouble our notion of reality, it is always a tool for motion. (Clem, 207)

You'd think I would know from the title that this book was going to be a depressing affair. "Depressing affair" does not quite cover it.

Despite the inherent tragedies this novel discloses, I liked it. Just not that much to overlook the sadness and weird 6 train tears I shed a various times during the book. The only time 6 train tears are appropriate is when finishing Just Kids by Patti Smith. Otherwise, like in this situation, they are unacceptable.

The problem with having a near-brilliant first five pages is that the rest of the book might not live up to it. The first five pages of this book are devastating--it really is the fastest a book has ever made me cry--and beautiful and real. But much of the rest of the book doesn't live up to it. I loved Ricky, but we don't spend much time with her; the author chooses instead to give us pages and pages with her husband John, her children Paul and Biscuit (the cutesy nickname makes me wince, but then one of my children goes by Jibbitz at home, so who am I to judge?), John's grown daughter Jess, a random passerby named Gordie. The diffuse focus weakens the book.

I really just did not give a rat's ass about Gordie. Sorry. Ultimately what I did care about was Ricky and John and their marriage. The writing of the marriage, of the various ways they fail each other, was very well-done and the best part of the book. I wish there had been more of it! The ending of the book works, despite the self-consciously literary way in which it's written.

The two children were the most interesting and empathetic characters in this, I thought. The book seemed influenced by James salter, but not as good.

The writing in this book could be absolutely delightful, worthy of the Women's Prize longlist recognition, but some of the choices the author made about the direction of the plot or development of the characters seemed too out of place for me to thoroughly enjoy the writing itself. I really wanted to like this book, but I really needed it to touch me more than it did. I spent so much time being frustrated about the story that I couldn't settle into the flow of writing. A pity, since it really could have pulled me in. I wanted so much to feel more of this book than I could. That is either my preferences or frustrations talking and doesn't make for a good review, but that is really all I feel I can put here.½

I am always partial to novels that take place in and around Boston so right away I was predisposed to like this book.

Seriously though, it's a very well written family story about an only child who becomes estranged from her parents and pursues a life very different from the one they imagined for her. In some ways, she seems to repeat or at least shadow, their mistakes, but with just the right amount of psychological awareness on her part - to make it believable.

The problem with having a near-brilliant first five pages is that the rest of the book might not live up to it. The first five pages of this book are devastating--it really is the fastest a book has ever made me cry--and beautiful and real. But much of the rest of the book doesn't live up to it. I loved Ricky, but we don't spend much time with her; the author chooses instead to give us pages and pages with her husband John, her children Paul and Biscuit (the cutesy nickname makes me wince, but then one of my children goes by Jibbitz at home, so who am I to judge?), John's grown daughter Jess, a random passerby named Gordie. The diffuse focus weakens the book.

I really just did not give a rat's ass about Gordie. Sorry. Ultimately what I did care about was Ricky and John and their marriage. The writing of the marriage, of the various ways they fail each other, was very well-done and the best part of the book. I wish there had been more of it! The ending of the book works, despite the self-consciously literary way in which it's written.

Familiegeschiedenis

This book was another unexpected surprise. If you read the synopsis, you could think this was going to be a who-dunit or a crime novel - it is not. This book is truly what literary fiction should be. Expertly written and deeply felt. Cohen's placement of words on the page is akin to a master artist's application of paint on a canvas. Oftentimes her turn of phrase would make me stop in my tracks and say "wow". It took me a bit longer to get through this book, but in retrospect this is not a novel I would have wanted to rush through. The writing is just that good that the extra time to savor Cohen's superb craftsmanship was well worth it. I will not give any spoilers away but if you do not finish this book to the very last page, you will be missing out - big time. Highly recommend.

This book gave me a headache. How do you write so much about what a family doesn't say to each other? I hung in there thinking it would finally all come out in the wash, but no. Seriously disappointed. I picked this from the Bas Bleu catalog, and they usually don't lead me so astray.