What's that book doing there?

So, it's Autumn. Time for Nanuk to travel to a far off land, for me to try to drive her blog, and for the literature shortlists to come out.

WHAT is Michael Ondaatje's "Divisadero" doing on both the Giller and Governor General's lists? I'm an Ondaatje fan. I like the poetry from the 70's, love "Billy the Kid" and "Coming Thru Slaughter", of course. How can you not? I even like the supposedly unreadable "English Patient" (the section on the winds in the desert remains amazing).

But I just don't get "Divisadero". Is it 2 books? Is it half a book? Is it 2 half unfinished books? Why get me all involved with a character (His whole back story and the inside of his head, his gambling habit which gets him into big trouble, so much trouble that he gets his head kicked in and loses his memory) only to drop him and fly off to tell the story of one of the interchangeable women characters (Couldn't tell them apart, you know the way Woody Allen women all talk like Woody Allen? Like that) off in France with fiddle playing gypsies who keep sticking sprigs of basil or spring onions in their pockets and maybe a son of a gypsy thrown in for good measure not to mention a French poet or a French doctor. I lost track of where I was and who was who and what the whole point of it all was. I just wanted to get through the book (Why didn't I just shut the book or throw it across the room? Too stubborn).

And so now, its convoluted "lyric" and "poetic" "layered" writing (run screaming, now!) is topping prize shortlists. I am missing something. A dumb reader, maybe? A tired one who thinks life is too short to wallow in the whatever it was I was clearly missing.

Anyway.

A book I'm glad made the GG list is Barbara Gowdy's "Helpless". A book that scared the Giller judges, I guess, because tho' it made the longlist, it was cut in last week's shortlist announcement. "Helpless" is a really good book. I highly recommend it. This is what her website says:

Helpless is Barbara Gowdy’s brilliant new novel, a provocative, gripping story of an unthinkable act and a mother’s heroic love for her child.

Rachel is an uncommonly beautiful young girl. With her tawny skin, pale blue eyes and chromium-blond hair, she is a cherished gift to her mother, Celia. Celia is a single parent holding down two jobs. All too aware of her own precarious equilibrium, she worries about Rachel’s innocent longing for her unknown father.

When a blackout plunges the city into darkness and confusion, Rachel is snatched away. Celia, numb with terror and guilt about the choices she has made, confronts the reality of every mother’s worst nightmare. The media coverage is tremendous. Closely monitoring it is Ron, a small-appliance repairman with a rare collection of vintage vacuums in his basement. Though Rachel is a stranger to him, he feels oddly connected to her, as though she is his responsibility. His feelings for her are, at once, tender, misguided and chillingly possessive.

Tapping into the fear and tension just below the surface of contemporary city life, Gowdy’s clear-eyed prose artfully urges us to consider what we dare not look at too closely. With her uncanny ability to lay bare our common soul and to fearlessly explore the intricate complexities of love, Gowdy has created a masterful novel.