Frederick Langlois could be that geeky 17-year-old found in every high school — the one who closely clutches his poem-filled notebook, who feels a bit too deeply, who’s just a little too old for his years. But Frederick isn’t in high school. He’s in a hospital ward with other critically ill adolescents, dying of bone cancer.
Mercury Under the Tongue chronicles his short stay there, from his distant but friendly relationship with his therapist through comic moments in the ward and his emergent friendships with other teenage patients. Some survive, others are lost, and at the end, Frederick must make a final reckoning with himself and his family, one that is at once dispassionate and deeply felt.
Avoiding both misty stoicism and made-for-TV bathos, the book exposes the fallible body as the humanizing factor that grounds spirited adolescent talk, creating a believable, likable protagonist while weaving a compelling, lyrical story.
si bien écrit ! j’ai adoré, le style de l’auteur est super intéressant et la poésie est magnifique ! le seul bémol de ce livre est qu’il est très condensé, voir étouffant. ça rentre dans l’ambiance ambiante, mais ça peut être lourd.
When I was a teenager, I was very into depressing books about depressing things. And perhaps if I was still a teenager, I would have liked this book too. But I'm not, and I didn't. Not only is this book horribly depressing (it's about a 17-year old boy in the hospital dying from bone cancer), but it uses one of my least favorite literary techniques: stream of consciousness. He's already come to terms with his own death, so there's not a lot of existential wrangling going on, just imaginary conversations with his family and a few glimpses of life in the hospital. And teenage angsty poetry. If you're interesting in knowing what's going on in the head of this particular fictional dying teenager, this is the book for you. But if you're actually looking for a good book or compelling writing, skip it.
Not a book for the weak of heart, nor a book that I think all would enjoy. It is a powerful story told through they eyes of a seventeen-year-old boy dying of bone cancer. Rambling, depressing but in my eyes (a survivor of St IV Cancer) what a sensitive introverted man-child may feel and shares through his poetry. "We die the way we emigrate, dreaming of peace and riches, our hearts as big as a native land." Stunning.
I'm afraid I found this rather hard going: I don't enjoy poetry at the best of times, and this little stream-of-consciousness novel is very much poetry disguised as prose. I'm afraid it didn't do much for me, apart from a few moments.
MERCURY UNDER MY TONGUE is not a book for the weak of heart. It is a powerful story told through they eyes of a seventeen-year-old boy dying of bone cancer. Frederick Langlois is in a Canadian hospital. He knows he is dying and is doing what he can to survive.
Frederick's family comes to visit, but he has little to say. Instead, he has thoughts inside his head of what he would prefer to say to them. He has gone so far as to write letters to each member of his family. His plan is to have one of the survivors on his floor mail them off on the one-year anniversary of his death.
His only solace is the poetry that he writes, but shares with no one except a fifteen-year-old leukemia patient, Marilou. The poetry shows another glimpse into Frederick's thoughts as he faces his final days.
Mr. Trudel writes a sad, moving story of a boy wanting more out of life than the hand he was dealt. Frederick shows anger, regret, love, joy, and, against his better judgment, acceptance, as his time draws nearer to the end. He rarely shares his pain of cancer with the reader, but there are snippets of the discomfort that he struggles with on a daily basis.
The story is translated from its original French but still flows beautifully and eloquently. If nothing else, Mr. Trudel's work will make you glad you are alive, and want to live the most in each day.
When I was a teenager, I was very into depressing books about depressing things. And perhaps if I was still a teenager, I would have liked this book too. But I'm not, and I didn't. Not only is this book horribly depressing (it's about a 17-year old boy in the hospital dying from bone cancer), but it uses one of my least favorite literary techniques: stream of consciousness. He's already come to terms with his own death, so there's not a lot of existential wrangling going on, just imaginary conversations with his family and a few glimpses of life in the hospital. And teenage angsty poetry. If you're interesting in knowing what's going on in the head of this particular fictional dying teenager, this is the book for you. But if you're actually looking for a good book or compelling writing, skip it.
Although, I am only on page 80, I believe this book is uninteresting. It gives great descriptions but it lacks a major thing...dialogue. The author also jumps back and forth throughout the book reiterating on how the boy is sick;then from out of the blue the boy explains how he received a watch for confirmation. This novel would have to give some more dialogue and less inner conflict in order for me to be intersted in the book.
I have now finished the book, and my rating is still the same as my earlier review.
I think the author is trying to juxtapose the idea of an overly sentimental maudlin teenage fascade with that of the reality of this boy who is actually dying of cancer. In some ways, it works and other ways, it doesn't. I like the style of it being written almost completely in the character's head. I don't have to have action or even dialogue for it to be a good story. I just think sometimes it gets a little bogged down. Almost as if it is trying just a little to hard.
I didn't really like the format of this book-it is basically one rambling thought process, the inner workings of a terminally ill 17 year old. There were no chapters....it was hard to get into, but once I did it was a bit intense.
Maybe because of the translation from French to English, or maybe the book was just written in a style of stream of consciousness but I found it fascinating and all consuming of my attention.