Tag Archives: vintage books

Last Night in Montreal by Emily St. John Mandel

lastnightinmontrealI’m slowly making my way through reading other works by the authors who dominated the list of my 5 favorite reads of 2016: I’m currently reading an ARC of Ta-Nehisi Coates’s newest collection, We Were 8 Years in Power; I scooped up Cheryl Strayed’s memoir, Wild, in a bookshop last week; and I finally tackled Last Night in Montreal by Emily St. John Mandel despite snagging it in February.

While I absolutely adore Mandel’s writing style (she has some of the prettiest prose I’ve ever stumbled across), this book was not as breathtaking as Station Eleven. I fell in love with several sentences throughout the novel, but the story as a whole simply didn’t move me in the same way. All of that said, it was still an interesting novel that I pored through incredibly quickly and didn’t find myself bored along the way… but if I was going to recommend one of Mandel’s works to you, I would forcefully push Station Eleven into your lap and leave Last Night in Montreal on the bookshelf for you to pick up on your own when the winds call you that way.

Is this review a little harsh for me actually enjoying the book? Yes! I think I just have a hard time comparing it to Mandel’s other riveting work, but this was still good. In the same way that Station Eleven weaves around narrators and individual lives, Last Night in Montreal largely shifts between four narrators and weaves in and out of the present and when a big event happened in the lives of one of the narrators.

Our main narrator, Eli, is perturbed when his girlfriend Lilia, another one of our narrators, abruptly disappears. But disappearing has been one of the only constants in her life since she was about seven years old and abducted from her home by her father. The private investigator attempting to track Lilia’s whereabouts is one of our other narrators, as is his daughter, Michaela, who is nearly the same age as Lilia. The main portions of the tale revolve around getting us to understand the nature of Lilia’s abduction, why she can’t seem to stay in one place, Eli’s grappling with Lilia being a loose thread, yet more connected to her purpose than the stationary Eli who talks about creating great things, but never seems to actually create anything, and Michaela who is attempting to understand her father’s motivations and the dissolution of her own family system. I was able to predict one of the bigger mysteries and felt like Mandel could’ve used her beautiful words to paint a more colorful picture instead of leaving the reader with a muted, vague, somewhat empty canvas of an explanation for one of the bigger questions in the novel, but I enjoyed the ride anyway. 

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Norwegian Wood by Haruki Murakami

norwegianwoodOof — I wanted to love my first time reading Murakami, an author beloved by many of my friends, but Norwegian Wood simply didn’t stand up to my expectations. Initially, I really enjoyed the story and writing style until I hit the 70 page mark and my affection took a nosedive, likely because of the introduction of a character (Midori) that I couldn’t stand at all.

Norwegian Wood follows about a year in the life of a college student, Toru, in Japan, as he weaves through the tangled web of love, sex, and adolescence. I’ve read and enjoyed many similar stories before and didn’t think I would mind reading another iteration, but I couldn’t jive with this. The entire novel was wrought with symbolism, which I’m guessing is true to Murakami’s style and also something that I might be able to better stomach for a storyline I appreciated more. Instead, so many of the pages were dominated by my least favorite character in the novel, Midori, trying hard to be a sensitive dream girl with #DeepFeelings, when it actuality it appears like a costume that most readers will probably see through. I’ve liked unlikable characters in other novels that I’ve read, but I found Midori so grating and rolled my eyes each time she was involved in a dialogue exchange. Midori isn’t actually a manic pixie dream girl, but she reads like someone who desperately wants to fulfill that role for a lover, becoming the sad, one-dimensional, but still cute girlfriend with #feelings and #emotions. Can you tell I use #hashtags when I’m mocking something? It’s almost become my way of conveying ~sarcasm via the internet~.

The story did manage to suck me back in once Midori disappeared, but I found myself rolling my eyes as soon as she was reintroduced around page 220. I did really like the other characters (Toru, Naoko, and Reiko), but I just couldn’t get over hating Midori to be able to enjoy the book. If you can, power to you, but the inclusion of Midori made my entire view of Norwegian Wood be reduced to a superficial attempt at depicting sadness, depression, and the ~deep feelings~ associated with them. 

All of that considered, I might give Murakami another shot, if someone can convince me to read another of his books that isn’t the massive tome that is 1Q84.