"Y. That perfect letter. The wishbone, fork in the road, empty wineglass. The question we ask over and over. Why? . . . My life begins at the Y."
So opens Marjorie Celona's highly acclaimed and exquisitely rendered debut about a wise-beyond-her-years foster child abandoned as a newborn on the doorstep of the local YMCA. Swaddled in a dirty gray sweatshirt with nothing but a Swiss Army knife tucked between her feet, little Shannon is discovered by a man who catches only a glimpse of her troubled mother as she disappears from view. That morning, all three lives are forever changed. Bounced between foster homes, Shannon endures abuse and neglect until she finally finds stability with Miranda, a kind but no-nonsense single mother with a free-spirited daughter of her own. Yet Shannon defines life on her own terms, refusing to settle down, and never stops longing to uncover her roots — especially the stubborn question of why her mother would abandon her on the day she was born.
Brilliantly and hauntingly interwoven with Shannon's story is the tale of her mother, Yula, a girl herself who is facing a desperate fate in the hours and days leading up to Shannon's birth. As past and present converge, Y tells an unforgettable story of identity, inheritance, and, ultimately, forgiveness. Celona's ravishingly beautiful novel offers a deeply affecting look at the choices we make and what it means to be a family, and it marks the debut of a magnificent new voice in contemporary fiction.
Marjorie Celona’s debut novel, Y, won France's Grand Prix Littéraire de l'Héroïne and was nominated for the 2012 Scotiabank Giller Prize. A graduate of the Iowa Writers' Workshop, Marjorie has published work in The O. Henry Prize Stories, The Best American Nonrequired Reading, The Southern Review, Harvard Review, The Sunday Times, and elsewhere. Born and raised on Vancouver Island, Marjorie teaches in the MFA Program at the University of Oregon.
I received this book through Goodreads First Reads.
I don't think I have ever been so sad to see a book end. It caught me by surprise and I must have stared at the last page for 5 minutes before I finally closed the book. It was like saying goodbye to a friend that you don't want to lose. I grew so attached to the main character that I almost cried.
One of my favourite things about this book is the way it was written. The narrative is beautiful and 150% suits how you imagine Shannon would think if she was an actual human being. She doesn't always describe what's going on in full sentences, but when you think about it, when does anyone in real life think to themselves in full sentences when something is going on? I sure don't. In my opinion the narrative is pretty much what made this book exceptional.
I loved how not one character in this book was perfect. Their flaws don't get pointed out blatantly, but you know that they have them and you know what they are for the most part. It's like you've been talking to this character for a bit and you notice they have a tick or something. Their flaws are slipped in just like that. And it makes them so much more vivid and life like.
Last but not least, the plot. I only have one word for this: phenomenal. I seriously can't explain it any other way. If I had the time and I thought someone would actually read it, I'd write two pages on just the plot alone. It flowed so smoothly and weaved together so wonderfully that I didn't even feel like I was reading a book. No questions were left unanswered, and yet there was still a hint of mystery at the end. But I was left satisfied instead of upset with that.
I would, and have already, recommend this book to everyone I meet. Strangers walking down the street might even be told to read this book. I loved it that much.
It seems ironic that the day I choose to read Y is the day this quote comes up on my twitter feed: When writing a novel a writer should create living people; people not characters. A character is a caricature. How right Ernest Hemingway was indeed. My galley copy of Y seems to breathe on it’s own. Its pages are filled with characters, but two or three are so vivid that they aren’t caricatures but real people.
On my first day working for Penguin Canada, there was a quiet hum of “Y” reverberating around the office. My ‘cube-buddy’ told me that Y is the company’s baby this year; everyone loves it. She gave me the run-down of the book’s contents and I figured it sounded okay, but not something I would read. Later, when I heard our Publisher speak of it, I have to admit I was more than curious. I snagged a galley copy, started it at 1:30 this afternoon and finished it at 5:15. The novel, told in both present and past tense, seemed to pulse in my hand, as if urging me to go on reading the tale that tangled so many lives together to form one story–one girl.
This book doesn’t have a fast-paced plot line, a clear antagonist, a gripping sense of urgency, or a really powerful romance. It’s just a story. So what makes it special enough for me to call it one to watch out for on all the awards lists? The characters. Marjorie Celona has tapped the very essence of humanity, without exploring romance or religion, and laid out before us a relatable story of self-exploration, decisions, realizations, and family ties. My own life and personality are nothing like that of Shannon, Y’s main character. Still, I felt a sense of absolute connectivity between us because of her mental explorations. Her questions about herself, her doubts about people around her, the instability of growing up–it’s all aptly familiar.
The story is told from a first person omniscient point-of-view. The fact that Celona accomplished this is in itself enough of a reason to read this book. I couldn’t imagine a harder form of writing and yet she does it effortlessly and stunningly. It made me feel connected to every character discussed in the book, even the ones I came to dislike. She exposes everyone’s vulnerabilities and insecurities, leaving the reader to discern what is positive about them. I remember tearing my hair out during my time spent taking Creative Writing in college because one of my professors would bang on the table, spittle flying everywhere accompanied by the words: SHOW, DON’T TELL! “How???,” my brain would cry, and my pen would just draw scribbles across the paper. He would point out this flaw in many, many books. I can just imagine him being floored by reading this sheer piece of brilliance. Celona’s writing is the very depiction of the mantra Show, Don’t Tell.
I was especially interested by the fact that I found myself more intrigued and fond of Shannon’s mother, Yula, who gave her up the day she was born. Her story. Her untold thoughts. Her quiet pain. It radiated like heat off the pages and I wanted to know more and more. At the end of the book, despite having all the loose ends tied together neatly enough, there was a lot left unsaid, which I am doubtlessly going to ponder over for days, especially in terms of Yula and her life. We always know what Shannon is thinking, but I was left hungry to know what lay beneath Yula’s delicate and complex self.
Y represents the eternal question that runs through all our minds daily. Why did this happen? Why are we here? Why won’t you look at me? Why do I feel this way? Why can’t I say what I really feel? Why? Why? Why? This book was Shannon’s search for answers, but it subtly brings up all the questions we bury deep within ourselves. Why do we bury them? It makes you think but, more importantly, it makes you feel. When a book can leave your chest feeling heavy and your fingertips feeling lonely now that the touch of the pages is no more, it is a book worthy of being called irresistible. When this book releases in September 2012, rest assured you won’t be holding just another book but a work of literary art that will leave you aching for more.
The past year, 2012, has been a period of achievement and excellence for Canadian fiction, with particularly strong contributions from women authors such as Nancy Richler ("The Imposter Bride,") Alix Ohlin ("Inside") and Linda Spalding ("The Purchase.") There have also been positive comments in the media about the work of Marjorie Celona, a West Coast writer whose novel "Y" was published during the year.
For this reason, I read this novel with high expectations.
Its basic plot is compelling. A baby is left by the Y in what seems to be Victoria, B.C., and the surviving child is driven over the years to uncover the mystery of who her mother is and why she was given away. Shannon survives a hard-luck childhood, maintains her sense of determination, and makes progress in her searching -- all against a backdrop of what she feels is lack of love and considerable loneliness. This could, one supposes, be a story of keeping hope in a hard context, of adversity confronted and perhaps overcome.
But that was not how this novel made me feel. Instead, it turned into a turgid plod, a bleak and tedious rendering of one bad break after another for Shannon -- a depressing description of a ceaselessly grey landscape where ocean and mountains and forests just somehow vanished constantly. I found this young woman to be just unconvincingly pathetic -- not once in her seventeen years does she make a friend of her own age. Thus even when her search is resolved she can conclude nothing but that its results will prove to be meaningless.
I suppose that there is no reason to demand a vibrant character as the central figure in a book (though that does help a story's appeal for readers!) But at the very least one should expect some spirit and strength in the character whose story has set off 350 pages of prose.
Overall, then, this is a novel that left me quite disappointed.
A baby is abandoned at the Y. Why? Why do people choose the forks in the path that they do? People are so often incapable of recognising choices. They lack a perceptual awareness of their own abilities to influence their own course through their life. The novel follows the story of the abandoned baby and her childhood, and intersperses it with the story of her biological parents. The paths of the characters are littered with misery and bad choices. The bleakness is alleviated only a little by the naive hopes of the child. The characters were sketched in bold strong strokes, but didn't feel filled in. The use of the city as a character itself helped compensate for this. The rich imageries of the various neighbourhoods of Victoria were replete with details that provided strong contexts for the story lines. I enjoyed this the most. As she walked her characters along Dallas Rd at the ocean front, past the World's Tallest Totem, and over to Ogden Point where the cruise ships berth, I saw it readily in my mind. The down and outs of Pandora Ave and other marginal areas dominated the book. The rural areas out west, beside a provincial park, also played true to form, harboring an eclectic mix of reclusive people who seek refuge in the environment of towering trees "forming a nave", like a church, or an Emily Carr painting, as noted by one of the characters.
This novel is gorgeously written. It is told from the point of view of Shannon who, as an infant, is abandoned by her birth mother on the steps of a YMCA. But the narrative also explores the incidents leading up to this moment. It's a heart-breaking, aching sort of story in so many ways, but it also forces the reader to examine what makes a family and what defines "home." The final passages of the novel just about blew me away with their cruelty, honesty, and beauty.
The only complaint I have is that I felt a distance from Shannon. Despite the intimate first person voice which narrates both her own story and the story of her mother, she somehow remained elusive, which may very well have been intentional on Celona's part. Shannon is an unknowable creature...but I just wanted her to let me in...if even for only a moment.
The book starts with Shannon describing how she was abandoned as a newborn on the steps of the YMCA just before it hoped at 5AM. Shannon is the narrator. She tells us her story and that of her parents that led to her being abandoned. Neither story is bright and sunny but ultimately Shannon's life is better for her mother's decision. Shannon has three foster families before she is five and moves in with Miranda and her daughter Lydia-Rose. She is very lucky to end up with Miranda. She has issues but Miranda sticks with her. Shannon is very private and rarely lets anyone know what she is thinking or feeling, even to the reader of the book!
The story of Yula and Harrison, Shannon's parents, could be described as shocking. They were damaged young. But they were not bad people. Vaughn, who witnessed the abandonment, becomes an important individual in Shannon's life, to his and her credit.
While we get Shannon's story chronologically, the her parent's story is more disjointed. Having the two stories told so differently was a bit disconcerting but in the end it feels like a good way to do it.
Truth be told, I wrote this book off as something that was slightly out of my intellectual reach. Even if the story sounded simple enough, I'm shamed to say that I didn't get it.
I had a completely different opinion after I read it the first time. I was unable to get over myself. See, I get so comfortable with my reading choices that when a book this jarring comes my way, I freeze. I don't know what to do with myself. I've been so stubbornly set on how a character should act or how her story should've been written that when an author writes something incredibly real, I'm unable to react.
I've been trying to finish this book for more than a month now. And I've asked myself fruitlessly on numerous times why I've exerted the effort. The only reason I could come up with is that I've been intrigued by this book ever since I came across it last year. I must admit that while reading this novel, I wondered what makes someone's work critically-acclaimed. And man, I didn't get it. I realized at some point why I can't quit my day job just yet. Because if I can't differentiate an award winning novel from the prosaic, then there's no point of entertaining my life-long dream of doing this for a living.
I should mention that perhaps I am just not ready for this mature, quest-for-oneself's-identity type of story. It had evoked empathy that would probably be more jostling to mothers like me. If there's anyone who could tell us a tale of self discovery, it would be a baby abandoned at the doors of a Y. I was expecting some pretty harrowing tales of living out the horrors of the foster care system in Canada. But there wasn't much of that. The most disheartening story was when she was but a toddler in the hands of an abusive foster dad. Other than that, you could say that she had better luck that most. Right now, in my city, a trial is in progress for the murder of a four year old girl in the hands of her mother and her boyfriend. She's been in and out of the foster care system and had finally ended her short life full of abuse when her mother and the boyfriend beat her to death. The system is under fire because they somehow missed the signs. The point is, there are a lot of horror stories out there and Shannon may have been lucky to a degree.
Shannon was pretty restless and living in all four seasons of her discontent. She struggled to find herself in a world where nothing seemed right; where she couldn't find her rightful place. It's difficult to do that if you don't know where you came from. That, in its essence, is Shannon's quest: to know the reason why a mother would give up a child without knowing whether or not she'd end up with a good life. She didn't want a life with her biological mother, she just wanted to know.
There were stories of teenage angst and rebellion of the lighter kind. There were encounters with drug addicts, alcoholics and homeless hobos. Even if the foster family who took her in offered her some sort of stability, she couldn't quite settle. So she goes and finds her past starting with the man who found her at the Y.
And then there's the story of her mother (Yula), who incidentally was a child herself. Her story was heartbreaking, her first child's even more so. She loved the way she knew how - pure and all encompassing and to a fault. Victim of circumstance and the environment around her, leaving Shannon's fate in the mercy of strangers was her way giving her second child a fighting chance. In the end, and whatever her state of mind was at the time, I really couldn't fault or admonished her for committing all her unforgivable sins. In the end, it was her love that made her do what she needed to do.
It's a story of a girl left on the steps of a Y. Growing up listlessly wondering hopelessly why.
An infant aware soon as she opened her eyes. A violent birth and the impending demise.
Days turned to years in wonder and impatience. Nothing could ground her, and thought that love's an indulgence.
She's wary of anyone who might show her compassion. Always defensive, second guessing their intentions.
To those who love her fully and honestly. She's out of reach all closed up tightly.
A slip of a girl with one blinded eye. Stronger than she looks for a four foot nothing high.
She draws her strength in knowing that she survived, the violent birth and in love she had thrived.
For the first sixteen years of her life, Shannon never knew her parents. Left by her mother on the steps of a YMCA just hours after her birth, the young girl’s abandonment is witnessed by only one man. Her destiny remained bleak and uncertain as she was shuffled through foster homes, her name altered and her childhood a blur. Y is the captivating story of Shannon’s plight to come to terms with the hand she’s been dealt. It’s a remarkable narrative on life and the perpetual question of “why”, examining what drives us to make life-altering decisions. The novel follows Shannon as she finally finds a permanent home with a strong-willed single mother, struggles with the weight of her little life, and eventually commits to the decision to find her parents. The biggest danger becomes whether her search will uncover things best left alone. Alternating between Shannon’s young life and the story of her mother, Yula, the novel delves into the bond between mothers and daughters, and the unforeseeable connections they share.
Marjorie Celona’s debut is a stunning work, hauntingly paced and meticulously crafted. There’s a self-certainty to her prose that leaves a profound mark on the reader, and her wonderful, sad, enchanting young heroine only amplifies the significance of the story. Shannon is remarkable in every way, the sort of character that will leave a lasting impression on the reader. At times bitterly sad, other times charmingly witty, Shannon’s narrative holds the reader in an unflinching, riveted curiosity. With wisdom and sarcasm well beyond her age, she examines her life as well as her mother’s, the events that led to her birth and the many heart-rending fragments afterward, all dogged by the same daunting question: why? From her relationship with her adoptive sister to an ill-advised attempt to run away, Shannon dissects her life decisions with extraordinary insight and honesty. She becomes a friend to the reader, somewhat distant but all heart, as her story is explored, intertwined with the fateful plight of her pregnant eighteen year-old mother, sixteen years in the past.
I was moved, quieted, and deeply fascinated by Y and Celona’s beautiful writing; this is a writer whose career I look forward to following. The boldness with which she conceived her story is utterly admirable, as is the fearlessness with which she handled several unhappy topics. Everything about Y manages a chilling but brilliant picture in the reader’s mind, and Celona softens all of the book’s supporting characters just enough for the astonishing mind of Shannon to come into its full glory at the novel’s center. The Canadian backdrop of both city and wilderness are depicted with both a subtle grace and impacting detail that illuminates every corner of the novel. Y is, as a result, an affecting story and a striking example of the art of literature at its finest.
“My life begins at the Y,” is the first sentence of this brilliant story of a foundling who struggles to make her way in a world not always so friendly or kind. Not only did I love the travails and triumphs of this character, but I was also captivated by the writing. I can wholeheartedly give this book a solid five-star rating because it just has so much going for it. It’s a quirky story, with some very odd characters, some likable, some not, and a plot that just won’t let go.
The author flawlessly pulls off the rather difficult present tense while telling not only the present story, but also the past tale of the plight of the main character’s mother, who ultimately abandons her newborn at the Y. The main character is delightfully strange and compellingly sympathetic, and, like all the characters in this remarkable book, refreshingly vivid.
The strength of the writing pulls the reader along with delicious turns of phrase and fascinating details. “At the shoreline, we stand at the edge of the world. As the tide comes in, the whole world pushes into itself, and when the tide goes out, we all stretch towards the sea. It looks like someone has spread a huge piece of tinfoil right in front of me and is shaking it from some invisible point.”
I loved this book and had a hard time putting it down. It was the best sort of book, one that causes you to have a sort of book hangover, in which you can’t seem to let go of it and you keep seeing scenes from it in your mind. The next book you pick up can’t quite measure up and you find yourself wishing for a sequel. I hope Ms. Celona is working on another book, but it’s hard to imagine she will be able to equal this one. This book is a journey you won’t regret. “You never take the road back empty-handed, Shannon. You return to the place you left and see it for the first time.” Celona just may be my new favorite author and this might be my favorite book of the year.
I found this to be a quiet book, not a lot of high drama, even when the events could have been told that way, like when her foster father beat her. The book itself takes on the emotional style of the child; mostly quiet and watchful, waiting to see whether the developing circumstances turn out to be good or bad. When she allows herself a moment of breaking out of that passivity, it turns out to be unpleasant enough to send her back to her default mode. The part of the final section in which Shannon and her family are reunited with her bio mom was most interesting to me for her foster mother's assessment of Shannon's characteristics, her strengths and weaknesses. It's the kind of stuff most 17 year olds would take offense at, but Shannon just accepts it, actually with pleasure, realizing that Miranda had actually been paying so much attention to her. The other thing I enjoyed very much was the description of Vancouver Island, and Shannon's little field trip to the seedier areas of the city of Vancouver.
Hello, my name is Shannon, and I am the protagonist and narrator of this dreary, tedious book. I am the type of person who walks around with a giant chip on my shoulder and while I am unwilling to give anything to anyone or even to contribute any type of any action to my own life and my own well-being, I am angered beyond reason when someone around me does not bend over backward to give me 100% or more of anything they might have to give to me, even if I am not actually entitled to it.
Although I have had some bad experiences in my life, and even though I toss around words like dissociation to pretend that I might have CPTSD, and even though I might actually have CPTSD, the story that I tell really makes me come across much more like someone who has a Cluster B personality disorder (sociopathy-psychopathy, now known as Antisocial Personality Disorder; Narcissistic PO, Borderline PO, and Histrionic PO) (and getting a Cluster B Personality Disorder is also a possible outcome of childhood abuse). People who have CPTSD are able to understand other people's feelings. They are capable of empathy, and connection, and interacting with other humans at a human level. Sometimes the psychological injuries suffered by those with CPTSD cause them to respond in inappropriate ways, but overall, those with CPTSD are still caring, people. Those of us with Cluster B personality disorders, on the other hand, are incapable of having empathy for others, and throughout the book I will tell you that I am incapable of having these types of feelings. I, like many Cluster Bs will also try to pretend that I am suffering, suffering greatly and always, because if we can get people to feel sympathy for us, to pity us and have compassion for us, we can reel them in and abuse them and take advantage of them, and trap them in our sphere, as I did with Miranda. I will also lie and cheat and steal, and manipulate people around me, and blame them for my shortcomings just because I can, other actions that are typical of those with Cluster B personality disorders.
Aside for being a character with horrible character in this book, I narrate a story that is excruciatingly painful to read and not in the way that the author seems to have intended. No, not painful because of the abuses I suffered as a child, but painful because of the narration I inflict on the reader. I will tell you about sidewalks so that I can point out the litter on them. I will eavesdrop on other characters that have no reason to exist in this book except to give me a reason to tell the reader how inane the conversations are and how asinine the people have the conversation are. I will tell you about buildings to describe how ugly they are, except when they have some architectural value, at which point I will focus instead on the disappointment I have that no one is currently jumping from them. I will describe to you the belongings and furniture in people's homes so that I can give details about how cheap, poorly-constructed, worn, torn, stained, and/or other terrible they always are, all the time, in every home, of every person I ever meet. Unlike most people who are disappointed to find a bottle floating in the ocean, I will be disappointed that this is the only trash that I find. I will ignore the beauty of my surroundings and the forests and oceans and mountains on the island where I live, except in one scene which will focus on the roots that can trip me and the mud that ruins our shoes and clothes (because, you know, washing machines do not exist in my world?). I will continuously, relentlessly, monotonously describe everything wrong with everyone and everything around me, even if I must introduce pointless characters and places and props just so I can have something new to complain about. I will continue with these ceaseless, heavy-handed fault finding until the person reviewing this book wanted to stick a fork in her eye.
And while I am complaining about everything and everyone I will also tell you about how terrible I look. And I will do it in the same shallow, superficial way that I narrate everything else in this tiresome book, so that the reader will begin to think that I am doing so not because I believe it but because I am both seeking sympathy with which to trap my victims, and also so that I have an excuse to never do anything or to ever to try and do anything with my life except to sit around and complain about everything that everyone else is or is not doing with their lives and what everyone else is doing and not doing for me. To top it all off, I will continuously equate being short with being deficient and inadequate and ugly. And, I will use the blindness in my eye as an additional excuse to waste my life. Because, I really am just a shallow superficial person who while trying to gain sympathy from others just comes across as the whiny obnoxious brat that I am.
Hello, I am the writer of this review. I think that the book was not badly written, but I am unsure because Shannon was such a problematic character that I could not really think about the writing, and as the narrator of the story it was impossible to get away from this terrible being in the book. BLARGH! There are so many problems with the way that Celona treated the mental injuries and concerns that result from childhood abuse that I cannot even begin to list them here. But, what I can say as a 5' tall woman (the same height as Shannon supposedly is in the book), is STUFF IT! to Celona for using this trite, offensive cliche in her book. I have to say, I am hardly surprised because the whole book is trite and banal. But, I am short, and strong, and healthy, and beautiful. So STUFF IT to Celona (because I cannot say what I am really thinking right now - it would never get past the GR site's censors).
Blargh! I will not only not read any more books by this author, I think I will be taking a break from reading Canadian literature for a while. I am a Canadian who has been making a point of reading literature from my country, but this book is Canadian in the worst possible way that literature can be. I need a break. BLARGH!!!!
“What do you say to a person like that? What do you say to them over the years? Knowing the story doesn’t make it any better. We get what we’re given, nothing more, nothing less”
I kinda love and hate the ending at the same time.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
The book was memorizing, easy to read and very hard to put down. I would describe this fiction as a social commentary, psychological mystery and memoir all rolled into one.
This book was at times difficult to read in a good way - the hurt, isolation, wondering and longing shared by the primary character was that palpable. Y is primarily about Shannon and is written in her first person narrative. Shannon reflects and shares her experiences, emotions and private thoughts on the past, present and future, moving seamlessly and back and forth between the different time periods.
The book is fiction but the emotions and experiences feel and seem very, very real. I think most readers will thoroughly empathize with Shannon. I know I did. Y brings up an awful lot of life’s issues. Shannon is abandoned as a baby, is bounced around foster homes and suffers both abuse and neglect until finally being placed in a foster home with a single, caring mom and her daughter – a daughter who is Shannon’s age and very resistant to sharing her mom. Because of this and many more things, Shannon doesn’t ever feel like she really fits in – in school, in the family, in the city, with friends. Physically she looks different and she also thinks and feels very differently. As a result, she is tormented by school mates and withdraws more and more inside herself.
Shannon shares how isolated she feels and how much she wants to know her birth parents. She takes risks and we learn how easy it is for a young person to get drawn into prostitution and drugs. Cutting is how Shannon deals with her self loathing. The book covers many, many issues – so many that I sometimes found myself questioning how all these things could possibly happen to just one person? It almost seemed like Shannon’s life was based on a composite character that the author had developed. Despite this bit of unbelievability (it is work of fiction after all), it is Shannon’s sharing of her soul, her understanding of her uniqueness and the impact that events had on Shannon’s psyche that make the book seem very real, poignant and evocative. I wanted to put my arms around Shannon and hug her on numerous occasions and to tell her to look around and recognize how she was currently being really loved and to stop yearning for the past and what could have been and to live more fully in the present.
It was an excellent first novel and debut fiction novel by Marjorie Celona who has had a number of short stories and other words published with acclaim. Celona was born in Victoria, which is on Vancouver Island, Canada where the story primarily takes place, except for a brief time spent on Vancouver on the mainland. Being Canadian and having visited both Victoria on Vancouver Island and Vancouver on the mainland, I quite enjoyed the setting and reading about streets from my visits and issues regularly in the news here. Fyi, both places are more than two thousand miles from where I live in Canada (just for readers who aren’t aware of how vast, both from east to west and from north to south, the geography of Canada is). Y was an excellent first novel and I’m looking forward to reading her next book.
This book was haunting and mesmerizing in the same way as a car crash. The story is of Yula who finds herself in a very bad predicament and must abandon her premature baby on the door step of the YMCA within hours of giving birth to her. The story follows her life and what led to that moment. Alternately, chapters cover Shannon, the baby she leaves behind and what becomes of her, her horrific experiences through the Foster Care System and her difficult journey to self awareness, and answers.
The dark feelings of this book was reminiscent of Dark Places by Gillian Flynn. Lives that are so battered that it seems dark and seedy things are pulled towards them.
Something that really stood out was this author's ability to uniquely describing people. Everyday people. We immediately know what kind of person she's writing about but not really knowing why. Examples:
"Shannon, feel how warm Nicky's back is." She smiles and reaches for my hand, and I let her put my hand against his back, which is so warm against the night air that it feels hot to the touch. I understand her immediately. She is an instigator, a fire starter, an accelerant of a human being, throwing herself into the middle of a crowd and lighting it up. She is fucking lighter fluid.
"I want to tell you something, honey." The social worker's name is Madeleine. She has a pale-pink complexion and blonde hair that's been dyed dark brown. She wears a sleeveless navy blue dress with a white bow on the front and cheap white pumps. Her upper arms have a lazy, bloated quality to them that I associate with upper-middle-class women who do things like eat cake batter straight out of the mixing bowl.
Another thing I picked up was the author's obsession with grey and maroon. I understood the grey to represent and accentuate the painful, and macabre theme of the story line. Grey buildings, grey sky, grey undershirt, grey skin, grey eyes. But what I didn't understand was the maroon theme. Maroon carpet, maroon door, maroon sheets, maroon paint under the nails, maroon checkered shirt. Someone help me out, what did it represent?
In her debut novel, I felt lost. I felt broken. I felt scared. I felt angry. I felt tenderness. And just enough of an ending so that I felt hope.
I received this book from Goodreads Giveaway yesterday evening.
When i began reading it, i noticed that within a list of places there was the Eaton's Centre. How odd, i thought, isn't that a store in Canada? I expect most books to take place somewhere in real or imaginary cities in the US. I was delighted to discover that yes, i was right, it IS set in Canada. Bonus deal for this Canadian!
The story is about a baby girl, left on the doorstep of the local Y on an island of the coast of British Columbia, who is then shunted from home to home before meeting Miranda and her daughter Lydia-Rose.
Lydia-Rose is not too pleased to have a new sister but as the years go by they learn to get along and become friends. She does not get to call Miranda 'mom', tho, because of Lydia's jealousy. This and the fact that mom & Lydia-Rose sometimes go off on their own for special family time tells Shannon she isn't REALLY a full-fledged family member.
Add to that a blond afro hairdo, an eye that goes blind and an insatiable desire to ask questions and Shannon starts to wonder who she really is, who her parents are, what happened to her and does she fit in anywhere?
The book is told from Shannon's point of view, as if she is a fly on the wall of her whole life- and even some of her mother's. The book alternates between telling Shannon's story and telling her parents' story, which is ok because you can't really put it down for very long.
During her teen years Shannon picks up some bad habits: stealing, staying out too late, trying drugs. She even ends up in the seedy section of Vancouver one night because she felt the island was too small. Fortunately she also makes some good decisions, decisions that draw her and Miranda closer together so that when she is able to contact her birth parents she has a tight support group to lean on.
Shannon is a girl in foster care who was abandoned at birth by her mother on the steps of the Y in Victoria. She shuttles from one hopeless home to another experiencing neglect and in one home extreme physical abuse. Finally, at 5, she is placed with single mother Miranda and her daughter. Over the years, Shannon struggles to find herself, making Miranda's life difficult and bouncing in and out of school. At 17 she makes a serious effort to find her birth parents and reconnect with them.
Yula is Shannon's birth mother. She has her own tragic back story that causes her to abandon Shannon. We see the story of both women's lives through chapters that move back and forth in time.
This a literary device that doesn't always work well. In this case, however, it does. The author keeps it simple, not introducing too many characters or side plots to confuse the story. It wasn't necessary to explain every character's pathology and how it impacts Shannon.
In addition to the smooth plot line, I liked the way the author portrayed Victoria and its environs. There was enough description to show anyone who has lived there that she really knows the city, but not so much as to clog the story line.
I think what I really liked was the simplicity of this novel, while at the same time, the story had real meaning and resonance. I loved that in the end, her relationship/reconciliation with her birth parents was neither catastrophic nor euphoric, but just like ordinary life. I liked this book a lot.
I really struggled with this book, Marjorie Celona had a great coming of age story-line however I did not enjoy Shannon's character. She definitely had my sympathies, coming from such a difficult start in life, however I thought that she took her problems and became angry about them and lashed out at people who cared. She was adopted by Miranda but there were times when she went out of her way to push Miranda's and Lydia-Rose's buttons. She thought of herself as being an outsider in their family and became more reactive than pro-active. She started skipping school and cut herself because she saw no other outlet. she ran away without even considering the affect it would have on her family, I thought that she was very selfish and did not even try hard to be a part of Miranda's family.
I understood her anger and frustrations, but I don't think that excused her to do some of the questionable things she did. I think Shannon must have been a hard child to love, but children like that need the most love.
I was extremely proud of the way she learned some things as she grew up and the choices she made. Her character really developed over the course of the book, and I was happy at the end when she let Miranda and Lydia-Rose in and became a part of their family.
I received this book for free through a Goodreads giveaway. Thank you!
This is a rare kind of fiction - written well, tells an important story but still easy to read. It's short, too, but says a lot. Many of the other reviewers have said it's a sad story, and it is, but it's happy too. Not whiny, doesn't try to hard.
The chapters alternate between the story of Shannon, whose mother left her at the Y the day she was born, and that of her mother, Yula, in the time leading up to Shannon's birth, told by Shannon.
There are so many interesting and quirky characters, each of which play an important role in Shannon's life. My favorite might be the man who sees Yula leave Shannon at the Y.
This hooked me from the beginning but got even better as it went on, Shannon grew up and everything began to weave together. I loved how pieces of Yula's story mixed in with Shannon's and certain images appeared in both. It was so subtle and clever.
I really loved this, have already recommended it to a friend, and will be reading more of Celona's work.
"Y" is a book about the why's of two lives. Why did one woman abandon her newly born daughter at the door of a YMCA? Why was it so hard for that little girl to find a real home? Why do we sometimes embrace responsibility and sometimes run away from it? Why are people cruel to the helpless, the innocent? The characters in this book are flawed and stumbling--in other words, very human and very memorable. Weaving two stories continuously could have made for a complicated read, but instead it gave time to ponder the one as your read the next part of the other , keeping what could have been too much intensity at an intellectual simmer that drove both narratives nicely. The issues of what it means to be a family, and the meaning of "home" are challenged, remolded, and puzzled into a story that was not always easy to read, difficult to put down, and impossible to forget.
I enjoyed this book. Yet, I find it a hard story to review. Shannon is abandoned at birth, goes through a few foster homes and is adopted. Even after adoption, she's part of the social services program. She feels like an outsider. She wants to find out where she came from. The story is well told and interspersed with the story of her parents in the time before her birth. Some things are a bit far-fetched but could possibly occur; for example, Shannon, at 17, has the sweatshirt she was swaddled in and the Swiss army life her mother left with her at abandonment. I find it a bit hard to believe that after bouncing from home to home, she'd still have these items or, perhaps, that she'd be given these items in the first place. However, that's nit-picking, a bit. I like Shannon. She'll do well and will always land on her feet.
This book was a very interesting read. Shannon who is the main character I found was written and described very well. With her being a foster child I feel that the way she acted was very appropriate for the situation that she is in. Shannon grows a lot through out this novel as a person, she learns to make her own decisions and create her own future with the information that she had. She learns to be herself and work towards finding her family.
I loved this book, even more than I expected to. I finished it in 2 days. The characters seem so full and real and imperfect, and the story took me on a journey of unexpected emotions. I thought I would give this book 4 stars until I reached the end of part two, at which point the strength of my emotional reaction and shock at a surprising and sad twist changed my mind. It earned all five stars.
Marjorie Celona shed a light on circumstances that people come across in life that can affect them in different ways through the articulate writings of Y. The novel portrays a sense of finding yourself through the journey one goes through in their life. In this, Shannon’s character is seen as one that demonstrates growth into making her own decisions for her future. Right from the start, Shannon’s life has been a roller coaster. Throughout the novel, she struggled with who she is and and how to explain how she is feeling. Being a child in the Foster care system, Shannon was bounced around house to house, dealing with abuse, neglect and a true sense of belonging. By having a greater understanding of Shannon’s actions, at times when she would run off to the mainland to have some “real life” experiences that ended in hurt or to visit Vaughn in his home which formed a bond between the two, it helps demonstrate her true emotions that assist and guide her into figuring out her identity. While these instances may be deemed as illogical, I believe that Shannon’s actions seemed reasonable given her situation. By doing so, Shannon was able to develop in her own reality and solve her own questions she has on life.
All in all, Celona was able to create a character that readers can relate to and learn from (to an extent), as the writing tells a tale on finding beauty in the struggle.
Y is a very unique and descriptive novel. Marjorie Celona has put her abilities of descriptive writing to great use. While reading this novel, it easy to put yourself in the shoes of the main character and relate to her feelings and emotions towards the struggles she faces in life just because she was abandoned. The main and most important actions the main character takes, really explains how she is feeling, and I completely support the actions and decisions she took in her journey to find her true self identity. When she runs away from her foster home, and reaches the mainlands, she meets someone that wants to use her and get close to her ( in sexual ways). When she realizes this, she decides to run from there. This event helps her understand that not all people in the society are good people. I support this action because as a result she got the message of what the real world is like and also running away from her foster home to find her birth family will get her nowhere. She cannot run from reality and instead face it and solve it thinking logically. This book is a great read for people looking for suspense and mystery. Since there is a new twist in the plot as soon as you turn the next page.
I had not heard of this novel before it was put forward by my bookclub. It isn't often I pick up a book with zero foreknowledge of the story, the author, the genre .... something. my review contains minor spoilers - nothing that will give away major plot developments- but still i feel i should give you a heads up in case you are a stickler about spoilers.
about 100 pages in ... I would say I am curious. curious to see how the two paths -the two storylines- come together. curious to see how it ends. I realize my impression of this book is going to have a lot to do with how satisfying I find the ending. I very much like the two parallel story lines ... in one Shannon grows up, and as she does, she moves closer to finding answers to her questions of who she is, where she comes from -AND- most profoundly .... who her mother is and why she abandoned her. in the other, Shannons' mom's pregnancy advances and she moves ever closer to making the decision to leave her baby girl on the doorstep of the YMCA.
at the end of part 1, Shannon's fostermom tells the girl she is at a fork in the road and it prompts me to go back and read the prologue. the author introduces the story with an explanation of how Y came to be the title of the book. yes Shannon was found at the Y, and yes her mother's name is Yula, but these things feel like cleverness on the part of the author. nice little add ons -coincidences- to make things interesting. Y is the 'wish bone', 'the fork in the road', as well as the question we ask incessantly. I immediately thought of the many worlds theory which is the quantum physics explanation for the existence of parallel universes. come to one of those 'forks in the road'? each choice creates a dynamic that results in a world. in one you are living out the life that results from choosing a .... in the second world your life is the result of choosing b.
the life Shannon is leading in the story Celona chooses to tell is created by one of the most singularly profound choices we can imagine. a mother walking away from her baby. actually there are two choices, as Vaughan's decision to watch it unfold without interference might have as much impact on Shannon's life as her mother's does. in the first it is the most intimate relationship a baby has. in the second, it is a complete stranger. in Shannon's life -the result of those two decisions made mere hours into her life- absence is as profound as presence. the importance of what is missing -what is NOT THERE- has as much influence on her as what is present.
for all it's bleak realistic approach to life, Y has a hint of magical realism. like Shannon's ability as a narrator to give us stories she actually has no access to .... her mother's yes, but also the nurse that contemplates taking the baby home with her but is overwhelmed by competing emotions for the new man in her life. ultimately the nurse chooses him over Shannon. then there is Vaughan's unique method of making his way through the world which is also a little magical. Celona asks us to take a leap of faith and to accept that there are things at play we cannot possibly understand.
Celona's writing is engaging and almost matter of fact. she does not give long descriptive passages. she provides insight into her character's state of mind and their emotions without dwelling on them. this too belies the bleakness of the story.
I just finished and you know what? this isn't a bleak story at all. you might think so when you start it, but it's not. like Vaughan says, life is big enough for a lot -A LOT- to happen. really bad stuff can happen and there is still plenty of room for other things. and it ends well, so that makes me happy. not spectacular. not stellar. but it is believable. acceptable. and i feel satisfied. the book drew me in and held me right to the last page. i will recommend it to friends.