Catchpenny

Review: 4 stars

A week ago, I took my two children to the public library, and somehow managed to distract them enough to buy a few minutes to roam the adult floor. ‘Catchpenny’ was on a shelf of new books, and the premise of world redemption through witchcraft, suicide cults and a depressive anti-hero, was enough to catch my eye.

I settled in at one of my favourite coffee shops - Vereda Central Roasters - a few days later and launched headfirst into Charlie Huston’s cleverly constructed world. In his version of our today’s world, reflections can be “limned” from mirrors and transformed into real-life dopplegangers (albeit comprised of glass instead of flesh and blood.) Magic - or ‘mojo’ as it is referred to in the novel - is real. Raw emotions and revered rituals can birth powerful forces, which are channeled into inanimate objects - ‘curiosities’. This power can be tapped for many self-aggrandizing purposes, in addition to enabling travel between mirrors in disparate locations.

We meet Sid Catchpenny, our protagonist, as he is sought out by an estranged friend, Francois, to help a mother find her missing daughter, Circe. What ensues is a highly captivating and intricately woven thriller where we are constantly left wondering where the line between good and evil lies. Each of the countless characters - Monroe, Sue, Francois, Abigail, Circe, Carpenter, Sid - are desperately flawed, and also deeply misunderstood, adding to the complexity of assigning the roles of heroes and villains. Huston takes his time to unravel the twisted yarn connecting everyone, and in doing so, exposes to the reader that Sid, our guide through this narrative funhouse, fundamentally knows nothing…meaning we also know nothing until the climax of the novel.

I found the story well paced and easy to lose myself in. It was reminiscent of ‘The Matrix’ for me, with vocabulary and rules used to effectively cast the structure for an alternative reality. For example, the omnipresence of “mojo” throughout the story, establishing “courses” to direct the mojo to “vehemancers”, ‘manikins’ as the “limned” reflections, and the time-bound “Vestibule” in between mirrors. Sid is also a refreshing protagonist - self-deprecating, honest and a bit of a maverick. Popular cultural touchstones are catalysts of the plot and work very effectively to draw contemporary parallels to our current lived experiences - for example, Monroe’s parties are reminiscent of Woodstock or Coachella, Gyre is an interpretation of popular MMPORGs and youth’s timeless pursuit of meaning at all costs.

It was an excellent escapist read that also provoked discussion on how the power of emotion can be captured and used as a force. It asks whether apocalypse is evil, or if it can be seen as a renewal - the creation of something new from the dredges of a destabilizing and disintegrating world. And if renewal is possible, how can a new world order be constructed to be more equitable and selfless. ‘Catchpenny’ is definitely worth an exploration for a curious, fantasy-loving reader.

The Immortalists | fatalist, enchanting, tender

Review: 3 stars

My office recently relocated close by BMVQ - what an amazing coincidence! On one of my walks home, I took a roundabout way and just happened to find myself grabbing a flat white and croissant at Praise Patisserie, which is the coffee shop at the back of BMVQ. I also took a gander at the staff picks bookshelf, and lingered on “The Immortalists”, before ultimately buying it.

The novel is segmented into four parts, each starring one of the Gold siblings. Preceding this quartet of life is a prologue, which sets up the alluring premise of the novel. The Golds visit a mystical forecaster of death, who provides each child with their expiration date. The central question is posed: how would you live your life, if you knew the date of your death? We explore this through the trials and tribulations of Simon, Klara, Daniel and Varya, and how a date shapes their destinies and longevity.

I found the novel immensely readable, and at points I had to pace myself from reading too quickly as each character hurtles towards their inexorable end. I inwardly pled with Simon and Klara to embrace safety and convention as their compounding decisions pushed each of them closer to fates that seemed fully avoidable. By the other hand, I found myself criticizing Varya’s chosen path - one that was awash in sterility and single-minded in its intent to avoid errors. At the conclusion - the reader is easily faced with a multitude of questions: Does the scale tip in favour of free will or predetermined destiny? What makes a life worth living? How does immortality express itself - through longevity, memory, legend, art, story?

Benjamin’s writing is most poignant when she employs the metaphor of the monkey longevity experiment - which tests the hypothesis of whether severe diet restriction can lengthen life exponentially. The scene where Varya experiences an epiphany with Frida, a monkey for which she has deep affection for, is one of the most searing, extracting heightened angst and reflection from the reader.

The sibling narrative also rang very true for me. As the middle sister in a family of three, I understand how time and distance can separate, but also how the bonds of childhood endure. I cannot shape my siblings’ decisions anymore than they can shape mine, as we are now each adults with separate daily orbits of people, dilemmas and opportunities. However, our shared stories and memories are what tie us inextricably to one another, and what compels us to help one another reach what we each perceive to be “success”, however conventional or unconventional our definitions are.

Overall, I would recommend this as a thought-provoking and relatively easy read, with a captivating, well-paced plot.

A Nurse's Story | eye-opening, empathetic, entertaining

Review: 4 stars

My lovely nanny is an avid reader, and she passed ‘A Nurse’s Story’ to me one day after seeing my stacks of books lying around the condo. Her rain-battered and tear-stained copy bore the scars of obsessive reading, so I was excited to dive into it.

‘A Nurse’s Story’ is Tilda Shalof’s partly-biographical retelling of her most salient encounters working as an ICU nurse in the Toronto hospital system. Throughout highly-entertaining, sometimes disgusting, and often touching patient narratives, she interweaves several key theses: (1) the role of a nurse is intricate and indispensable, and is being undermined by government budget cuts, (2) nurses need to first take care of themselves, before they can take care of others, and (3) the unecessary prolonging of “life” can be cruel and selfish.

My husband is a physician, so I’ve often heard him sing the praises of nurses, and at times, vent in frustration at oversights that a nurse made. But he has been unwavering in how important nurses are to his ability to perform his job efficiently and effectively. When I think back to major medical milestones of my life - giving birth, staying by my father-in-law’s side in the ICU, or receiving long-distance updates as my mother underwent heart surgery - I realize how much power nurses hold in their hands. Nurses administer the doses of medication that sustain patient comfort and survival; they make adjustments on the fly and decide when to escalate for help; they control the emotional well-bring of a patient and his/her family, acting as a twitter-feed for progress updates…and so much more. They have to be error-free, because of the mortal repercussions of their actions.

This book tremendously increased my awareness for what nurses are responsible for, and what they endure. I loved that Shalof reiterates through various anecdotes how the ICU’s emotional trauma osmoses to the mental health of nurses themselves. When I hear nurses laughing together now, catharsis instead of insensitivity comes to mind. There was also a quote (spoken by a doctor) that really crystallized for me what a nurse’s mission is: “We never withdraw care. In certain circumstances, we may withdraw treatment, but never care".

Finally. Shalof relates a number of incidents where patient families insisted on life support for their relatives, even when the body was necrotizing, or organs primed for transplant were wasted on a brain-dead patient. In these scenarios, Shalof and her fellow nurses on ‘Laura’s Line’ advocate for death with dignity, to release the body from painful interventions. I had always held the perspective that '“everything should be done” for my family members, and even for myself, but Shalof has encouraged me to rethink this blanket belief. It is often the desire to relieve personal guilt that drives families to prolong life past the last shred of realistic hope for recovery.

I highly recommend this book to those who want a very readable, thought-provoking look into patient care, narrated by a passionate insider. Shalof’s writing is convincing, well-balanced and unequivocal, and her stories are incredible.