Miranda Romanac is a successful thirtysomething woman in today's modern world, yet she feels alone and adrift on the sea of her life. At her high school reunion she makes a shattering discovery that further undermines her already shaky sense of who she is and where she is going. When she meets the remarkable Hugh Oakley, her life takes a 180-degree turn for the better--but at what price?
When they move to a house in the country to start a new life together, the reality Miranda had once known begins to slip away. Miranda is haunted by alarming, impossible visions and strangers whom she feels certain she has known, although they are all from other times and places. As these phantom lives consume her own and begin to affect all that she knows and loves, Miranda must learn the truth to reclaim it. But sometimes the hardest truth to accept is the knowledge of who we really are.
Jonathan Carroll (b. 1949) is an award-winning American author of modern fantasy and slipstream novels. His debut book, The Land of Laughs (1980), tells the story of a children’s author whose imagination has left the printed page and begun to influence reality. The book introduced several hallmarks of Carroll’s writing, including talking animals and worlds that straddle the thin line between reality and the surreal, a technique that has seen him compared to South American magical realists.
Outside the Dog Museum (1991) was named the best novel of the year by the British Fantasy Society, and has proven to be one of Carroll’s most popular works. Since then he has written the Crane’s View trilogy, Glass Soup (2005) and, most recently, The Ghost in Love (2008). His short stories have been collected in The Panic Hand (1995) and The Woman Who Married a Cloud (2012). He continues to live and write in Vienna.
The odds were stacked against this book, yet surprisingly I really enjoyed reading it.
The only reason I read The Marriage of Sticks was to get rid of it - I bought a copy for no apparent reason over a decade ago. I was fully prepared to, even expected to dislike it. The title seemed silly, I've never read this author before, don't read much of this genre, and I found out on GoodReads that apparently it's the second book of some series...
But it turned out to be a pretty entertaining read! Made more interesting by the fact that I rarely read anything like it.
The main character is a woman who sells antique books and items that used to belong to writers and artists. For about half of the book, it was straight up realism: just a novel depicting the turbulent life of a single city woman in her thirties, her new-found friendship with an old lady and a new relationship with a married lover. It wasn't anything special, but it was easy to read. I was surprised it was shelved as "fantasy", it seemed like the time for the book to start fantasy-ing had come and gone.
Then, strange and dangerous things started to happen. It was difficult to tell what was really happening and what wasn't, how bad things could get, what were the limits and the reasons behind these strange events. I was thrilled and having fun along the ride.
Reading The Marriage of Sticks as a stand-alone was fine. The book didn't feel like book 2 of the series. The name of the series is Crane's View, which was a town in the book where weird things first started happening. So most likely the books in the series are only loosely connected. I didn't read book 1 and it didn't feel like I was missing anything.
A couple of things I didn't like:
- The book had some signs of being outdated: lots of cultural references that drew a blank, some statements that were probably fine at the time but sound unacceptable now.
- I didn't like the moral message the plot turned out to be leading to. Like "don't be selfish, you're ruining other's people's lives" (an entire stadium of people who hated the heroine). This idea is so self-aggrandizing it's ridiculous. Most people won't even notice you exist. Besides, you're not the only player on the playing field here. You can’t just “take away” someone’s husband, he’s making a choice to leave, probably mostly because his current marriage sucks. If husbands could have been simply “taken” there would have been 10 times more divorces, but most mistresses just wait for years in vain. So their selfishness has nothing to do with any of it.
Other people are not objects you can simply use on the grounds of being selfish. You just don't have the ability to do so.
Not being a selfish asshole is not about nobly "saving" others from the vast devastation you might unleash upon them if you chose. It's about saving yourself from being ostracized, making a fool of yourself for tiny gains, losing help/support in times of need, and most of all, it's about concentrating on creating things yourself instead of craving and trying to take away other's people's things that are out of your reach. YOU are the person who benefits from not being selfish.
I had wanted to try one of this author’s books for ages and finally decided that an audio version would do the trick. As I was browsing his list of books on Audible the cover of this one struck me and the narrator sounded the best out of the bunch (the others either sounded like they had asthma or imitating Darth Vader).
The main character, Miranda Romanac, is a woman who gets everything she wants and yet isn't quite happy. She regrets the turns her life has taken since high school, the way she has grown cautious, careful and afraid of risk. The story starts out when she attends her 15-year high school reunion and finds out devastating news about her first love.
Most of the characters are not particularly likable and I never really got the sense of who they were. The fact that the story takes a distinctive surreal turn 2/3 in only works if the reader is fully invested in the story and can happily suspend their beliefs. I, however, was constantly aware of the author’s presence in the story and what he was trying to achieve with the quasi-philosophical and existential prompts.
The story tries to capture the reader with its "mysterious" events but for me that was a complete fail. Things doesn’t quite fit, and the story seems to jump around and leave lots of gaps but the biggest issue was that I was not particularly intrigued, frightened or invested in the storyline but as it was only an 8 hour audiobook I finished it.
So overall this has been a disappointment on several levels and I wont be exploring more of this author’s work.
“You and Hugh were not supposed to stay together. He was fated to go back to his wife and have that little boy with her. You two were supposed to have a quick, red-hot affair. You were supposed to end up writing postcards from exotic places telling him how much you missed him. But none of it happened. You were able to change things. You changed fate. Again.
The above paragraph came just past the halfway point in Jonathan Carroll’s The Marriage of Sticks, the second book in his Crane’s View Trilogy. I had reviewed the first and third books of the trilogy a while back, and I’ve been planning to read and review this second book for quite some time. Better late than never.
Fate appears to be a recurring topic in most of Carroll’s novels I’ve come across. The Marriage of Sticks is no different. The story revolves around Miranda Romanac, a thirty-something, successful book collector and dealer who doesn’t have much of a love life. Hoping to reconnect with a former love interest and relive her youth, she decides to attend her high-school reunion. Nevertheless, once she realizes that her previous flame is no longer alive, her life becomes a whirlwind of strange and otherworldly occurrences.
Miranda’s life takes a turn for the better when she encounters the captivating and charming Hugh Oakley. Still, things are not always as they seem, and she is led down a path where she tries to reshape her destiny repeatedly. Miranda’s connection with Hugh exposes her to various life scenarios, and she must figure out which one is the right path for her and everyone else in her life.
Carroll’s combination of surrealism and magical realism creates yet another thought-provoking page-turner, showcasing the transformative power of the imagination. The book was a pleasure to read, with a seamless flow, but towards the end, in the last fifty pages, the story felt disjointed and almost ruined the overall experience. I will openly acknowledge that Jonathan Carroll is one of my all-time favorite authors, and his strengths and weaknesses were fully showcased in The Marriage of Sticks. I’m glad that I have finished the entire Crane’s View Trilogy and looking forward to reading my next Jonathan Carroll novel on my bookshelf, Bathing the Lion. He is a much needed voice in fantasy literature and deserves to be read widely.
It is life as usual until Part II (slightly over 50% of the way through). Part I Miranda isn't especially remarkable - she has had her share of loves and of loss. She is in her thirties and attends her high school reunion w/ her best friend from high school. She falls in love with a married man who has grown children. She is slightly self-righteous and judgmental, but in a realistic way. The story is told from her perspective as an older woman reflecting on her past.
Carroll is playing with the idea of inherent selfishness (read up on rational egoism), but it doesn't quite work; he's all over the place, and the story's format (slooooooow Part I and wild and crazy Part II) gives the reader literary whiplash.
**spoiler alert** When Hugh and Miranda move into a huge Victorian given to Miranda by a kindred spirit, Miranda starts to have visions or hallucinations. After Hugh dies these visions become especially disturbing and violent; Miranda has a series of realizations: she knows things are happening across town, she sees movie-style the alternate realities of her big life decisions, she has the power to manipulate fate, to change things from the way they were meant to be, that she is immortal via reincarnation.
I struggle with the premise that Miranda was so universally disliked (re: the stadium of hate-filled people) - small acts of selfishness typically don't result in violent hatred. Could she have been better, nicer, more giving, more thoughtful? Sure. Was she a sociopath - meh. No. Carroll argues that her ultimate fault was the prick of a million pins, not one fatal blow, and that with each of these pricks she sucked the blood of those who loved her - she lived off them in a spiritual sense. That small acts of goodness and kindness are key and could have changed the course of her life and the life of those who loved her. That just because everyone is selfish isn't reason enough for us to be so. However, she was everyman - we all do things because they make us feel better; we help others because helping them makes us feel better about ourselves - we are rewarded by feeling good; would we do that act of kindness if it brought no pleasure and no reward? Miranda is faced with a choice - she allegedly loves her child selflessly (well, not so much, come to find out - she loves the idea that she won't be alone when she's old == selfish), so she has the choice about whether to give her immortality to her child. But won't that make her child a selfish, horrible person, taking vampire bites in order to survive? When she gives her immortality to Hugh's other reality child, and this child rescues Miranda, does this mean we're in a new regime? I think it's a case of scratch-my-back-and-I'll-scratch-yours.
Carroll's fiction often focuses on this alternate fantasy world that is just beyond our grasp; we have the potential to join this world if we open our minds. I do find this interesting - is it because of its inherently escapist qualities?
Una volta hai detto "tutto passa". Non è vero, Hugh. Troppe cose finiscono e per quanto uno provi a spostarle e spingerle via, non è possibile. Come i ricordi. E l'amore.
Finalmente il paranormale entra a Crane's View! Per chi non lo conosce, questo è il secondo romanzo della trilogia di Crane's View: più che trilogia, un trittico di tre romanzi che condividono la medesima ambientazione e qualche secondario personaggio. Il primo, Ciao Pauline! si presentava clamorosamente come l'unico romanzo, o almeno credo, in cui non compaia alcun elemento fantastico / horror / surreale. E per questo mi aveva deluso. Ma con Il matrimonio dei fiammiferi Carrol torna alle vecchie abitudini: e finalmente anche Crane's View piccola cittadina da cartolina, conosce il paranormale. La prima metà, a dire il vero, trascorre tranquilla, con toni pacati: Carroll ci presenta la protagonita, Miranda, una donna di successo dal completo controllo di sé, che vive la sua vita tra la bottega di antiquariato e saltuarie relazioni sentimentali non troppo impegnative. Finché incontra l'amore vero, Hugh, capace di sradicarla dalla sua vita e dalle sue convinzioni, portandola a vivere nella città di campagna Crane's View. E a quel punto, succede di tutto di più. Da un colpo di scena all'altro, tra visioni psichedeliche, incubi inimmaginabili e sogni freudiani, in una girandola che mescola mitologia, reincarnazione, psicoanalisi, predestinazione, senza mai apparire pesante, confuso. Ho apprezzato la scelta dell'autore di spiegare ben poco: Carroll sembra aver costruito un dettagliato mondo paranormale di cui, però, vuole dire il meno possibile, lasciando la protagonista ed il lettore aggrappati ad un briciolo di effimere certezze. Fino all'ultimo geniale colpo di scena (nell'ultima frase!) che capovolge tutto ancora una volta.
Not quite the match of the previous book in the sequence, The Marriage of Sticks is Carroll back on more familiar ground but this time he seems angrier, sadder and more bitter somehow. Obviously the town of Crane’s View is the linking theme to the trilogy but there’s far more about regret and the past going on here, with a strange sort of self hatred that I haven’t seen in his other books. There are a few bits here that I am going to have to chew over considerably, but at its best it’s magnificent and strange and magnificently strange. Carroll has an unnerving talent at creating truly and deeply unpleasant characters, based on a sort of unflinching ability to make them the exact opposite of everything you would otherwise find admirable in people. The Enormous Shumda is one of the greatest of these, seemingly representing all the weirdness and anger that Carroll is trying to articulate. Plus it’s good to see some bull terriers back
Jonathan Carroll’s last novel, Kissing the Beehive, marked a departure in his oeuvre. In his nine previous novels, Carroll had created a strange marriage between the detail-oriented fiction of contemporary novelists and the fantastic mythology of the South American magical realists. Reading a Carroll novel was like discovering John Updike novelizing Twilight Zone episodes or finding the source material for a David Lynch film that did not contain the misogyny and grotesque. The critic John Clute grouped the last seven of Carroll’s novels (which share some common characters and events, similar to the way that Robertson Davies, an acknowledged influence, would repeat within his trilogies) under the collective term, “Answered Prayers.” It is an apt phrase that describes the way in which Carroll’s characters often found themselves presented with their deepest wishes, to then discover that there is a catch. This is similar to the 1902 short story, “The Monkey’s Paw,” by W.W. Jacobs, wherein a man uses a desiccated monkey hand that had been cursed by a shaman to wish for 200 pounds sterling, but receives it through an accident in which his son is caught in machinery and the son’s employer, disclaiming responsibility of course, compensates the family in exactly that amount.
With Kissing the Beehive, Carroll put aside the supernatural and concentrated on the realism. Much of the novel was mined from his own experience: a dead body that he discovered as a teenager in his home town and his feelings as a writer who believes himself caught in a rut. Instead of a mystical experience of characters coming to terms with their innermost desires, Kissing the Beehive was more a traditional mystery. The macguffin is the dead body, and the plot, while circuitous, ends when the mystery is solved. Although still containing his trademark touches of better-than-life dialogue and clever situations, most of his regular readers were unsatisfied. They had come to expect magic from Carroll, and no amount of smoke and mirrors could conceal that Kissing the Beehive was about everyday illusions.
Those same readers will not be disappointed by Carroll’s new novel, The Marriage of Sticks. Miranda Romanac still recalls her high school boyfriend, James Stillman, with fondness, and when she returns to Crane’s View, New York, for her fifteen-year reunion, she harbors an ill-concealed desire to see him and possibly rekindle their relationship. She is shocked, therefore, to learn that he is dead, the victim of a car crash three years earlier. Devastated, she returns to her life as a rare book dealer, during the course of which she makes the acquaintance of Frances Hatch, an infamous paramour of the wealthy and powerful in the 1940s and 1950s. At a party, she meets Hugh Oakley, an art dealer, who knew Stillman in the intervening years between high school and his death. Then she sees Stillman on the street in New York. But is it really Stillman, or is it a ghost?
Miranda and all her friends, to some extent, lead wonderful lives. When Carroll describes her love for discovering a first edition, you feel that whatever you do pales in comparison to that career. Your love life is not nearly as intense as the attraction between Miranda and Hugh or Frances and her true love, The Enormous Shumda, a stage magician in Poland. In Carroll’s world, fiction is stronger than truth, and every event is filled with meaning and significance. From the pen of any other writer, this would by cloying, but Carroll always leavens his text with a pinch of dread. His characters live in the eye of the storm, an idyllic time and place that is made even more so because we sense that it is temporary. The center cannot hold, and when things fall apart . . . well, that’s when the story gets truly interesting. Miranda destroys Hugh’s marriage, albeit with his help; she becomes pregnant with his child; Frances lends the new couple her home in Crane’s View, which precipitates a ghostly vision of their future happiness, immediately shattered by an unexpected death.
Carroll has always had an ability to tell stories in which bad things happen to good people. In The Marriage of Sticks, he attempts to modify that theme into “bad things happen to bad people,” but I am somewhat unconvinced that Miranda is as heartless as Carroll wants her to appear or as the characters in the book accuse her of being. Instead, Miranda’s selfishness and vanity make her appear only more human than some of Carroll’s previous protagonists, who were people that you wanted to know existed but had never met. Miranda is much more like the woman next door, which makes the pathos of the book stronger in that you can identify with the character while it weakens the plot elements that push the story to its ambiguous ending. (Endings have never been a Carrollian virtue, although in recent novels they have ended with more closure than this book, which harkens back to the sudden and open endings of novels like Outside the Dog Museum.)
The title itself is a typical example of Carrollian whimsy that seems saccharine yet is filled with meaning. “It was [Hugh’s] idea: when anything truly important happens in your life, wherever you happen to be, find a stick in the immediate vicinity and write the occasion and date on it. Keep them together, protect them. There shouldn’t be too many; sort through them every few years and separate the events that remain genuinely important from those that were but no longer are . . . . When you are very old, very sick, or sure there’s not much time left to live, put them together and burn them. The marriage of sticks.”
The Marriage of Sticks reuses the town of Crane’s View and the character of Frannie McCabe, the town’s sheriff, both significant parts of Kissing the Beehive. I assume that this means that Carroll has entered into a new story cycle that will somehow differ from the “Answered Prayers” series. With only two installments to examine, it is too early to make any definitive statements, but the corresponding theme between them is the all-too-human urge to reflect on the past and wonder how things might have been. In Carroll’s world, you can go home again, but there are plenty of reasons why you shouldn’t.
There is no genre to fit the work of Jonathan Carroll in, using anything and everything, like alternate lives, talking dogs, other incarnations, to tell his poignant stories that always have a big beating heart. Great book.
Miranda Romanac learns that an old flame has died, but begins to see him on the streets. When she gets involved with another man, the range of strange events increases to the point of danger.
Carroll mixes mundane reality with a couple of very interesting supernatural premises. The first half of the book is largely realistic, though Miranda begins to experience visions and visitations as she falls in love with a married man. In the second half, the fantastic elements predominate as she tries to come to terms with, and conquer, the things that are happening to her.
Overall, the book is interesting, and the protagonist fairly likable. The realistic portions of the book flow smoothly, though Miranda seems fascinated by status symbols. Everything is named - a Mayakovski poem, a Bremen typeface, and of course (for Carroll), one or another brand of fountain pen. It's exhausting even when the names are familiar; far from adding natural color, it's distracting.
I was sorry that Carroll did less than he might have with his supernatural elements. He mixes two clever premises, but almost immediately discards the more intriguing one (regarding fate). While he does a good job of building suspense, much of the resolution of the story is so opaque as to be incomprehensible. We are eventually told what has happened, but I didn't see any obvious pointers to it in the narrative; we simply have to take on faith that the actions described have the effect described. Miranda, despite claims to the contrary, is more acted on than actor, and has few choices to make. Her journey is interesting, but more for the horror-tinged scenery than for its effect on her.
This is an interesting novel despite its flaws, and worth reading for its effective mix of mundane and magical. It takes place in the same location as Kissing the Beehive, and there are a few carryover characters and references, but these are primarily standalone books rather than a series.
This was my first time reading Jonathan Carroll and though my reaction to this book was mixed I am intrigued. It was an engaging read which spend the first 2/3 of the story firmly rooted in reality and the final 1/3 a confusing supernatural muddle with a generous dash of creepy.
The first part of the story I flew through and really enjoyed despite not being crazy about the main character. This part of the book for me seemed to be a well written if at times a tad pretentious, argument for the idea of Carpe Diem. Despite very little suspense or out of the ordinary occurrences, it was a page-turner and engrossing. It sucked me in enough to drown out a whiny screaming two year old in the airport.
Unfortunately the book lost me a bit in the final third, which was odd as its fantastical leanings was what led me to pick up the book in the first place. He takes all the good and happy evoked in the first part of the book and stomps it mercilessly in the ground. It seemed to me to be making the opposing argument to the first part of the book – it seemed to posit that seizing the day, following your heart, doing what makes you happy will make you an emotion vampire. Or at least it makes a few select people, who are immortal through reincarnation, emotion vampires. Or something. I found it all a bit of a muddle and not nearly as engaging reading as the first part BUT it did make me want to discuss the book with someone. So maybe it was more engaging then I thought. And the end is intriguing. And the author definitely knows how to evoke a spooky atmosphere.
3 1/2 stars really. And I liked the stick idea - sort of corny but in a good way.
The Marriage of Sticks slides along the slipstream, as most of his works to. His writing is filled with magical imagery and moments when you can't quite figure out what's going on, but in the end it doesn't matter because Carroll can tell a great story. Carroll's works always manage to live in the ordinary world and in the magical world that lies adjacent. In The Marriage of Sticks this is quite clear as the book moves through its paces and becomes increasingly creepy and fantastical.
The main character, Miranda (yes, I thought of Miranda in The Tempest, too), is looking for love and surprised when it finds her through a man who embodies her past, but is only tangentially connected to it. An exploration of love, of memory, and of loss - Carroll draws us effortlessly into a world where characters find happiness only to be driven from it relentlessly. His writing is creative and surprising and his stories unsettling and ambiguous. Lovely read.
Haunting, disturbing, fascinating. It starts out as a normal-seeming albeit very well-written sort of everyday fiction... but veers slowly but surely toward the strange.
I really liked the start, and I was certainly drawn in as it went along, but ultimately I just wasn't sure what the point of it all had been. The narration - and the author's level of comfort - seemed to pull back abruptly as the crux of the story arrived and I felt distanced from the characters and what was happening. I'm not convinced by the conclusions the main character reaches about herself and I'm not really pleased with where the novel went.
One of the worst stuff I have ever read. Too conventional, simplistic style of writing. Author unsuccessfully tries to capture the reader with "mysterious" events in the book. Not impressed at all.
Meh. Kinda simplistic writing. Unimpressed. This is the second... or maybe third, J. Carroll book I've read or tried to read... I don't think I need try anymore.
It's been quite some time since I read any Jonathan Carroll. I enjoyed the gentle touches of magical realism in some of the earlier work I read, and those elements are present in "The Marriage of Sticks". The main character, the world she inhabits, is mostly the "real world", but then slowly opens up into a brush with something a little more supernatural.
The writing is clear and the pace is solid, but I did occasionally think the dialogue was a little... overblown? Artificial? Although perhaps if I were to encounter a slight shift in reality I might speak differently as well.
More so, though, I have to admit I became troubled by some logical inconsistencies with the main dilemma of the second half of the novel. It feels like the shift in the character's view of herself, the conclusions others have reached about who she is and how she has lived her life, don't feel entirely earned by the descriptions of her, the view we have of her, in her introduction through the entire first half of the book.
And more, the choice she is given also feels quite odd, since her life is placed in such negative terms by the last half of the book, and yet her choice is about whether to provide a similar life to someone else as a gift... but how could a life like that be a gift when the realization the main character is supposed to have is that her life has not been a good one?
I think the ultimate ending helped somewhat to redeem some of the troubles I had, but not enough where I feel unambiguously about the novel. It certainly provoked a lot of philosophical musing, but in the end I'm still left a little dissatisfied because I just don't see that the conclusions are earned by what came before.
In his book Marriage of Sticks, Jonathan Carroll examines the nuanced dynamics of family ties as well as the influence of memory. The protagonist of the tale is famous children's book author Miranda Romanac, who travels back to her hometown to attend her father's funeral. Miranda is forced to face her childhood memories and unearth family secrets as she struggles with her grief. Carroll vividly depicts Miranda's upbringing and her complex relationships with her parents and siblings through a succession of flashbacks. Miranda's mother was a distant and absentee parent during her youth, while her father was a well-known artist who struggled with alcoholism. Miranda was distraught when Andrew, her elder brother, and closest confidant, passed away unexpectedly when she was just a young girl. Intriguingly exploring family dynamics, recollection, and the general ways in which our past shapes our present, Marriage of Sticks is a work of literary excellence. The vivid characters and intriguing plot of the book offer a heartfelt meditation on the human condition and the enduring strength of love and forgiveness. If you want a book that through flashbacks sheds light on one's family problems then this is a solid read.
Dogs are here to remind us life really is a simple thing. You eat, sleep, take walks, and pee when you must. That’s about all there is. They are quick to forgive trespasses and assume strangers will be kind. 104
We have affairs because we’re greedy. Don’t blame that greed on someone else. People are brilliant at justifying their motives. It’s one of our ugliest talents. 107
It’s arrogant to think we know what’s right. Morality is only cowardice most of the time. We don’t avoid misbehaving because it’s not proper; what we’re really afraid of is of how far down it looks to the bottom. 113
In the end, each of us has only one story to tell. It takes a lifetime to live that story but sometimes less than an hour to tell it. 229
I have come to realize this is an essential lesson: in order to survive, you must learn to live without everything. Optimism dies first, then love, and finally hope. But still you must continue. 253
Jonathan Carrolliin voi luottaa. The Marriage of Sticks on kiehtova, mystinen ja vauhdikas kirja. Alku vaikuttaa tavanomaiselta, mutta sitten seuraa yllättävä käänne, joka tekee tarinasta kaikkea muuta.
Kauniisti kirjoitettu kirja kiitää paikoin ehkä hieman turhankin vauhdikkaasti, mutta se lienee hinta, joka tiiviydestä (kirjassa on alle 300 sivua) on maksettava. Carrollin kirjoissa tämä tuntuu olevan tyypillistä, jossain kohtaa lukija yksinkertaisesti putoaa kärryiltä, kun kummallisia tapahtumia seuraa yksi toisensa perään. Onneksi Carroll vetää tarinan langat kasaan lopuksi varsin tyydyttävällä tavalla.
Kirja kuuluu The Wooden Sean kanssa samaan Crane’s View -trilogiaan (kolmas osa on Kissing the Beehive); käytännössä se tarkoittaa hienovaraisia yhteyksiä saman tapahtumapaikan kautta. (30.4.2007)
I read it because it had a Thomas Canty cover and I typically love the books he does the art for. I spent a lot of time while reading the book wondering why I was reading it. It was just a story of some people during the first half. The second half brought in more preternormal aspects. A lot of things were left foggy and unclear and I kept reading in hopes of getting to the part where the information was that would explain what was going on. It managed to drag some of it out to the very last paragraph. I am left with a feeling of confusion but not knowing what my questions are.
I need to remind myself not to read any more of his books. They are ok but there are so many other things I would rather read.
Description: The Marriage of Sticks is a story of a young 33-year-old woman, Miranda Romanac, that has been feeling alone. And going to a high school reunion she sees Hugh Oakley and felt a spark with him. And started to put her life back together. Once she started to live together with him she saw that what she imagined with him started fading away. And saw that things weren't as she imagined.
Thoughts and Opinions: It is a good book, I am in a relationship and noticing some similarities. We get so ahead of ourselves and we set these expectations and when they aren't reached, we tend to get frustrated and start to detach from them. I do also like this book because of the close realism, it talks about things that have happened or that could happen. Overall a good book.
This was a good book in that it makes you consider the choices you make in your life, almost without thinking, and shows the impact of those choices on others, not just yourself. All choices matter - not just the ones you believe to be consequential.
If you are looking for a book that makes you think - this is one. You need to pay close attention throughout the story in order to follow it - otherwise you will get to the end and say - "this book skips all over and makes no sense".
ho letto due libri di carroll prima di questo: il paese delle pazze risate e te e un quarto. mi avevano entusismata. questo no, proprio no. assurdo come gli altri ma senza genialta', e soprattutto con quel finale pieno di speranza di redenzione, quel restrogusto cattolico del potere salvifico del sacrficio, uh! che delusione. vorrei inveire anche di piu' ma la tastiera che ho sotto le dita mi penalizza enormemente. lo sconsiglio e cosi' sia.
I really liked this book--at first it seemed like a normal slice of life story--good characters and then suddenly it gets into some supernatural stuff and it takes a different direction--but all good-- a little like stephen king but not as crazy--and the author did this seamlessly so it didnt feel like a weird change
Wow, I really liked this book. It was different. Great writing, really took you in. Stories excellent, but the reincarnation stuff was a bit hard at times and the ending was a little blah or I would have given this 5 stars.
A woman goes to a class reunion - odd things start happening. At the core of Carroll's books full of the beautiful lives of the insufferable, there's always a break with reality as brutal as anything in a David Lynch film.