The main reason I rated this five stars is because I think it's amazing that I have spent the two days since I've read it swinging violently between wanting to give it one star, and wanting to give it five, thinking of giving it three just as an average, or giving up and just leaving it unrated. I mean, waffling about a rating is something I do, but not like this.
If a book has me thinking about it this much, my opinion of it swinging so crazily from one extreme to the other, my feelings so engaged for days afterwards (even if half of them were negative feelings), well, that's pretty damn amazing.
And there are amazing things about it beyond that. While I was reading, I was engrossed. Some solid truth came out in the way the narrator did things, in familial interactions and tragedies. I realized close to halfway through that part of that feeling came from the fact that it was reminding me of David Sedaris's essays. Hell, our narrator even has a brash older sister named Amy.
And the want, at times, to give it one star were so severe because when I remembered the elements that turned me off, I hated them beyond what they really deserved, all because they destroyed the magic. The details of putting together timber-frame buildings was the main one. It just feels way too contrived again and again, in spite of some of the entertaining things it brings about.
I also got all disproportionately mad that the kid who disappeared wasn't the vanilla teenager I had started the story thinking he was. It trickles in that he's great at sports, and that he's a gifted musician. And yet, I loved some of the ways the music thing played out---especially that the brother heard stolen Van Halen riffs in his big classical guitar piece. That's awesome, and believable.
Little touches like that completed the spell, but then some weird-feeling thing would pop up and I'd be all mad that it put the spell off-kilter again. It was a really weird reading experience.
It made me wish there were a couple of sequels---in a speculative fiction genre.
I felt like there were a lot of hints to one particular thing, as far as "What happened to Ethan?" went. To me, it seemed obvious, and I kept waiting for the other characters to catch on. I won't spoil it and tell you if I was right or not---or even what I was so sure happened to him.
The most magical thing about this book was personal, though. I finished reading another book and sat down before my "to read" bookcase and looked up at my choices, waiting for one of them to speak to me. They didn't, so I was pulling them down one-at-a-time and reading the back covers. I had forgotten about the tower of to-reads stacked against the bookcase to my left until I felt a tug in that direction. I had forgotten this book, but it was in that stack, softly pinging.
I plucked it out and set it on top, confused because I'd meant to pick it up and take off reading it. But the "ping" was saying, "Not quite yet."
And then that night I wrote a journal entry about my high school art teacher and how, when I feel like I'm doing my best writing, I'm following the tenets he taught me about drawing and oil-painting. And it was based on the ideal that...art is art.
Once I was done writing that, the book said, "Okay, now."
And it fit. It even made me think, "Damn, I should have typed my journal entry and posted it before I read the book, just so I'd have some dated and verifiable way to prove I wrote it before I read this."
And that was another (big) reason I settled on giving it five stars.