Michael Kirby, a sensitive man who collects odd objects to mark the transitions in his life, tries to understand the language of the heart through his relationships to family and lovers. Reprint.
The title of this book intrigued me, though it sat on a shelf for a long time before I got around to reading it. The narrator, Michael, begins the story when he was 11 and describes his attempts to keep his disintegrating family (consisting of an aloof father, a mother who escapes by playing roles she makes up, a younger sister and brother) together. The silent trauma of those early event affects all of them in different ways. His father becomes more involuted; his sister seems to follow her mother's tendency to take on different roles; younger brother becomes the delinquent child. We have the greatest hope for Michael, who deals with the family stress by collecting things, initially small objects but then larger ones that he gathers at yard sales and auctions. Along with each object he collects, he also gathers the story behind it. Finally, the stories he tells himself are those he makes up. Into his second marriage, we are left wondering which story he is about to reveal to his wife.
I found the first half of the book covering Michael's childhood, adolescence and first marriage the most interesting. In the last third of the book, I found the story a bit unwieldy and seeming to lack direction with implausible events.
A very unique, quirky book which remained true to what I expected from the initial few pages. Almost rhapsodic from part to part around the theme of unwritten language. I like that the setting was so undefined. I did not enjoy Part 1 as much as the rest.
My main issue with the book is that the plot doesn't really drive. It doesn't have enough story, and the very excellent prose loses out as a result. I like Phil Graham, as a person and as a writing teacher, the only thing with this book was that it could have been more than it is. I haven't read any of his other things, so I have nothing to compare it to.
This book, which for some reason felt more like a collection of stories with the same character, although there is a continuum, was a very enjoyable read. I thought that it was lovely. Sad. And endearing. I'm surprised more people haven't read it, because I believe it is a great book.