So far I've finished Anne Patchett's Commonwealth, which I find quite wonderful. A very sharp rendering of people's difficult lives, which nevertheless leaves one in a positive frame of mind. Very hard to do.
Zadie Smith's Swing Time isn't on any of my group's lists, but I told myself I should read it anyway. It was a chore at first--the narrator's involvement in the glam world of a Madonna-like vedette left me cold at first. The sequences in Africa seemed also to be transcriptions of notes taken while on a travel-writing assignment. But by the end, I found myself wrapped up in the story, pleased with the spin Smith put on the the world of the Bitch Goddess Success, and nodding my head over the portrayal of women who try with mixed success to escape poverty and lack of control of their lives.
However, my mid-summer literary epiphany came a couple of weeks ago when we were travelling with kids and grandkids in the North West. One of the grandkids favourite stories is that of The Great Antonio,
a Montreal strong man, by Elise Gravel. He pulled buses with his teeth
and other feats of strength. Gravel's illustrations are delightful,
and obviously made a big impact on not-quite-five Thomas.When we were doing a little morning walk-about near Grand Coulee dam on our recent trip, he got very excited, pointing toward the hilltops and talking about the Grand Antonio. The adults couldn't figure out what he meant, but then it dawned on us: the high tension pilons carrying electricity from the dam. They look a little like someone flexing his muscles, I agree.
You could probably do a nice turn on that: how electricity makes the world run, and how it magnifies the strength of all of us. But I think I'll just be delighted at a little boy's imagination.
