Captivating, but I'm not sure I liked it--if that makes any sense. ( )

A thoroughly disappointing bargain-bin pick. Hagen's novel reads like a paean to the burgeoning sexuality of his adolescence, with awkward fondlings and couplings every three pages. His politics are trite and his portrait of ex-pat Rhodesians living in the US is shallow and one-dimensional. The ending is a triumph of loose ends being tied up in each other too neatly and too completely -- I finished the book with a sense of irritated disbelief. ( )

A subtle and delicate story about a relatively normal family, changed and defined by the travels they undertake. The story basically tells about the effect all these travels have on the eldest son - from his birth through late teens. The book, especially in the beginning, is mainly a series of anecdotes through which the character of the family members become clear.
The language is vivid and lively with beautifully constructed sentences.
Sometimes the rhythm of the book slacks a bit (coincidently when they are in England and in the States?). Still it is a very beautiful book that I highly recommend. ( )

Sometimes a book languishes unread on my bookshelves for what seems like millenia. There's no predicting when I will possibly pick it up and read it; just knowing that it is there waiting is a sort of balm to my soul. In the case of The Laments by George Hagen, the book had been tucked away for years when I inadvertantly bought a second copy of it at a used bookstore this summer. Yes, I do that sometimes. On the plus side, I consider it confirmation that the book definitely appeals to me (twice). And I've made it a practice to consider it a nudge from the universe to actually get on it and read the book already.

The Lament family is peripatetic in the extreme, traveling around the world, settling briefly, before heading off again in search of a place that fits them better than the one that they are in. Opening with the birth of their first son, a fat and happy little boy, there is no doubt that the family's luck is all going to be bad or impossible from the moment a mentally disturbed woman whose own infant is sickly and melancholy kidnaps the cheery and chubby Lament baby instead of accepting her own. The only recourse, of course, is to adopt her son and pretend that he is their biological child. Will, the secretly adopted Lament, spends the next many years trying to fit in with his boisterous and rambunctious family. His struggle to fit in is a mirror in miniature of his family's quest to fit in as they move from Rhodesia to Bahrain, England, and America. Father Howard is a creative and frustrated engineer with a strange affinity for valves while mother Julia is an artistic and somewhat apathetic sort. The twins, who have a deep and unexplainable twin connection, are hellions and apt to create chaos and leave upheaval in their wakes no matter where the family lives.

The Laments start out the book full of hopes and aspirations, unrealistic though they may be, and they end it rather more downtrodden and definitely downwardly mobile than they started it. On the whole, the book is a tragedy but there is such wonderful dry humor and forthright writing in it that it is nothing but a pleasure to read. I truly did laugh out loud in more than one instance and if the terrible happenings quotient is higher than I'd usually find realistic, it is entertaining all the way. The characters are quirky and eccentric but they inspire great sympathy in the reader as they go through their lives. Exaggeration is rife and the explicit social commentary is hard to miss but even though I suspect Hagen of condemning my life, I still thoroughly enjoyed his novel. ( )

vooral het eerste deel heel geestig, interessante karakterbeschrijvingen, tweede deel juist nog al somber ( )