Mad Hope by Heather Birrell
My rating: 4/5 cats
this book is about…people.
i mean, is that facile, or what??
but it’s not untrue. these stories are about the human spirit and the universality of the human experiences of life: death, parenthood, relationships, coming of age, pregnancy, and about the making of unexpected connections with others.
but no one wants to read a book report like that—it makes the book sound all puffed up with self-importance and pipes and elbow patches.
and this is not that kind of book. this is a sparkling kind of book, where human characters come across as human, not as constructs of an author’s imagination. this is one of those human ant farm kind of books, where we are given access into situations we can just observe, and relate to. it feels.
these stories are sad and funny and show people at their most exposed and vulnerable. in their reaching-out states, but not giving up.
“‘But you’ll never succeed in pleasing everybody,” she said.
“Nah, maybe not.” Jerome made his hand into a neat pistol and shot twice, up towards the heavens.
Bam, bam.
Maybe aiming at God, maybe saluting Him.
“But I got mad hope,” Jerome said. “Mad hope.”
for some reason, this has been a very hard review to write. what can you say when you have simply read a great collection of short stories? in searching for inspiration, i desperately googled a few reviews of the book, instead of my usual impulse of just blurt-typing whatever i am thinking, without filters.
and here is the review i wish i had written
although i disagree that BriannaSusannaAlana is the best story. it is good, certainly, but i preferred My Friend Taisie, Drowning Doesn’t Look Like Drowning, and Impossible to Die in Your Dreams.
but apart from that, the other person’s review said it all.
sulk.
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