Todo irá bien, todo irá bien, todo acabará saliendo bien

by Tod Wodicka

Burt Hecker empezó a desdoblar su identidad a los 30 años. Casado y con dos hijos, decidió construirse un mundo a medida del medievo en pleno siglo XX. Pero el día en que su mujer murió, esa excentricidad adquirió unas dimensiones intolerables y lo engulló por completo. Con sesenta años dice ser Eckbert Attquiet y sobrevive ajeno a cuanto catalogue como 'Fuera de Época': lleva portapliegos por cartera, sandalias y viste una túnica mientras come gachas y bebe aguamiel. Tras un accidente, un juez lo obliga a acudir a terapia musical, donde conoce a un grupo de seguidoras de Hildegard von Bingen, una mística alemana del siglo XII en cuyo nombre peregrinan a su abadía en Alemania. Pero Burt va sin billete de vuelta: irá a Praga en busca de Tristán, el hijo que huyó de su lado. Así arranca el viaje conmovedor, disparatado, intenso y caótico que es Todo irá bien, todo irá bien, todo acabará saliendo bien, en el que T. Wodicka nos pone en bandeja de letras a un un glorioso antihéroe de esos que dejan huella.

Genres: Fiction, Novels, Literary Fiction, Literature, Contemporary, Book Club, Drama

333 pages, Paperback

First published July 12, 2007

About the author

Tod Wodicka's second novel, THE HOUSEHOLD SPIRIT was published by Pantheon and Jonathan Cape in June 2015.

His first novel, ALL SHALL BE WELL; AND ALL SHALL BE WELL; AND ALL MANNER OF THINGS SHALL BE WELL has been translated into Spanish, Dutch and German. It was shortlisted for The Believer Book Award. Wodicka's writing has appeared in the Guardian, Granta, Tank Magazine, South as a State of Mind, the National, Art Papers, AnOther Magazine, Amuse and the New Statesman.

Reviews

[Jason Pettus · Rating 5 out of 5]

(My full review of this book is longer than Goodreads' word-count limit; find the entire essay at the Chicago Center for Literature and Photography [cclapcenter.com].)

The longer I'm a full-time arts critic, the more I'm starting to realize just how important the following three facts about the arts are, things I had always suspected when I was an artist myself but am now coming to understand with a certainty now that I'm a reviewer:

--Within traditional Western storytelling, the single biggest debate of all is over whether to emphasize the plot of that story more, or the characters;

--The main difference between so-called "genre" projects and so-called "mainstream" ones is that the former emphasizes plot more, while the latter emphasizes character;

--And of all the great artistic projects throughout history -- not necessarily the most popular of their times, but the ones that keep getting picked up by new readers each decade -- almost all of them feature a unique and strong balance between the plot and characters of that story.

It was something I was thinking about a lot, frankly, while reading through American expat Tod Wodicka's outrageously entertaining debut novel, the humorous yet brutal examination of antisocial academic eggheads known by the unwieldly title All Shall Be Well; and All Shall Be Well; and All Manner of Things Shall Be Well; because it is precisely one of those books I'm talking about in my third point above, one that creates complex-enough characters to satisfy any literature professor but with enough of a strange and unique plot to keep all the beach and airport people happy too. It's one of those books that makes you think, "Ah, yes, this is what contemporary literature can do when it's absolutely on top of its form" -- it is hilarious, it is heartbreaking, it tells a tale you'd never come up with in a million years on your own, and along the way manages to indict your own worst behavior without ever completely condemning you (or that is, if you're a cranky egghead into obscure hobbies yourself...and why would you be at this website if you aren't?). It is one of a handful of books I come across each year that reminds me of why I opened CCLaP in the first place; precisely so I could recommend books like these, books that need the extra publicity, books that profoundly hammer home what's so great about intelligent artistic projects, and why you should always hold out for the smartest novels and movies and television shows that you can.

Raised in upstate New York, schooled in the UK, now living in Berlin, Wodicka takes us on a similar geographic journey with All Shall Be Well... -- it is the story of full-time Medieval re-enactor Burt Hecker, and the transatlantic adventures that happen to him over the course of a few months in 1998. And make no mistake, Burt is easily one of the most inventive, fascinating, frustrating, complex characters you will come across in a contemporary novel; failed history teacher, frustrated academe, he at once comprises every single trait about such people that drive the rest of us batsh-t, while still being an instantly compelling character who you simply must know more about with each passing page. And it's this, frankly, that makes fans of so-called mainstream literature fans in the first place; because the fact is that there's a lot for us fellow arrogant nerds to learn about ourselves through the story of Burt, a character so incredibly well-fleshed-out by Wodicka that he almost literally comes alive in front of us. I mean, this is a man so completely out of touch with his modern surroundings, he even considers orange juice a sufficiently OOP (out of period) detail that should never grace his life; a man who owns exactly one modern suit, one modern sweater, who basically sees the rest of humanity as a teeming nest of filthy breeding meatsacks.

But see, just like the rest of us cranky antisocial intellectuals, Burt simply must live in the modern world at times, whether he wants to or not, which is where the pathos of this novel comes in; because Burt simply isn't a very good person, when all is said and done, a person who wants to be good but who obliviously wallows in his weaknesses and vices just too much to be so, and then masks it all in arrogance and a sociopathic hatred of the world so that he never has to acknowledge his own failings to himself. Hmm, sounding familiar, anyone? In fact, it's pretty amazing what Wodicka does with Burt here in All Shall Be Well..., precisely because he is having his authorial cake and eating it too; he is presenting to us a sympathetic character who is also an unredeemable a--hole, a character who will immediately remind any history-loving intellectual of both the best and worst traits about themselves, and most importantly never comes to an ultimate conclusion for us as to how we should think of him. Because let's face it, it's easy for any lover of the intelligent arts to sympathize with Burt's plight -- born in the wrong moment of history (or so he believes), it's obvious that Burt actually wouldn't be that bad of a guy if you had only met him in the year 1300 or so, back when a lot less niceties were expected of your fellow humans, back when Burt would be not much more than your typical sh-t-covered monk, living in isolation in some hilltop monastery in the wilds of western Germany.

Because that of course gets us to the flipside of All Shall Be Well..., and why I say that this is so much better a novel than a typical academic-friendly character study; because the storyline itself takes us on a deliciously bumpy ride not only through the cultured 19th-century confines of upper New York, but the actual wineries and monasteries of western Germany's Rhine and Mosel regions as well*, through a convoluted plot that sees our anti-villain slapped with a court order to attend a New Age Medieval all-woman chanting workshop, because of an "incident" involving the copious drinking of mead and the stealing of a modern car (or "time machine," as he drunkenly refers to it). And see, the bubbly middle-aged Oprah-watching chanters of this New Age group just happen to be obsessed with the Medieval saint Hildegard von Bingen; and 1998 just happens to be the 900th anniversary of Saint Hildy's birth; and so the whole group has decided to go on a trip to western Germany to join an entire planet's worth of bubbly New Age middle-aged housewives in celebrating this anniversary; and this is what's convinced Burt to go through with the plans that fuel the majority of this book's plot, which is to sell all his belongings and secretly emigrate to Germany on a whim, not completely sure what he's going to do there besides wander through the endless grape fields of the region and pretend that he really is living in the Middle Ages.

Hah? Wha? Come again? Yeah, and this is just the beginning of the oddness known as the All Shall Be Well... storyline; before we're done, we've ended up in a catacomb hipster music club in Prague, a Victorian mansion on the Atlantic Seaboard, and all kinds of other interesting situations, interacting with everyone from suave Brazilian womanizers to Polish experimental rockstars, from cocktail-swilling socialites to earnest "it takes a village" Midwesterners. And in this, you might want to compare the book to a more well-known one like, say, Michael Chabon's Wonder Boys (which is also a movie starring Michael Douglas and Tobey Maguire); that is, both ostensibly take on a rather obvious situation that by all rights should make most smart people groan ("Gee, another story about a snotty academe -- just what the f-cking world needed"), but both successfully pull them off precisely because of the quirky and inventive plotlines that were created. This is something that so many academic writers simply don't get, the thing that drives me the craziest about so-called mainstream or academic literature; that the telling of a story is ultimately supposed to be an entertaining experience, no matter how much of a "piece of art" you want to also make it, and that the most successful artists out there concentrate just as much on a well-done plot as they do on well-done characters.

And then finally, there's this brilliant fact about All Shall Be Well..., that the type of story it is actually changes over the course of the manuscript; that at first it is a truly laugh-out-loud satire of arrogant academic nerds, but then by the end becomes a rather serious drama about a specific individual, one who is in actuality a lot more monstrous than we realized at first, which is why I call Burt an "anti-villain" here instead of the typical "anti-hero." Because the fact is that Wodicka uses a well-worn literary gimmick absolutely masterfully here, our old friend the unreliable narrator; as our story continues, as the people around him start mentioning stranger- and stranger-sounding things, we realize that Burt as our first-person narrator has not been telling us the entire story about what's been going on. We learn, for example, that there's actually a pretty good reason that he is currently estranged from his two adult children, that they're not just the whiny kids that Burt makes them out to be at the beginning of the book; we learn that there's a good reason one is now a divorced Trekkie, the other a hipster expat musician, known for playing blaring free jazz on a series of handmade instruments that he learned how to create during his own Medieval-reenacting childhood. We learn that there's a reason Burt always seems to be sucking on a bottle of his home-brewed mead; there's a reason he made his police-noticing drunken time-travel excursion in the first place, the one that led to his court-ordered time with the New Age chanters.

Now, unfortunately I cannot give this book a perfect score of ten, which I was highly tempted to do, because...

[Maggie · Rating 3 out of 5]

Although I really can't relate, I can't help but be fascinated with people who are so uncomfortable in their own skin that they reject their gender, species, culture and/or time period in favor of another. And Burt Hecker - protagonist of Tod Wodicka's horribly titled debut novel - is one such person.

Burt (known as Eckbert Attquiet to his fellow medieval enthusiasts) is a man lost in time. Orphaned at birth and raised by nuns in an upstate New York monastery, Burt had always felt that he was better suited for the 1100's than the 1900's. Whenever possible, he spurns modern inventions such as coffee, potatoes and pants in favor of his medieval homemade mead, oat gruel and tunics. He doesn't drive or work, and spends most of his time with his fellow eccentrics hosting huge medieval reenactments in the backyard of the bed and breakfast he calls home. Considering all this, I'm sure it's not too much of a stretch to imagine that Burt's personal life is a bit of a mess.

Although the timeline of the novel bounces around through Burt's life, it begins with him as an angry old man in Germany, recently widowed and seeking the forgiveness of the son he adores but who will no longer speak to him. The tragic reason for this distance is revealed during Burt's trek through Bohemia, and although I still couldn't relate to Burt by the novel's conclusion, I found myself smitten with the weird little curmudgeon nonetheless.

Many reviewers touted this book as being a black comedy; but while it's definitely wry, I certainly wouldn't call it funny. By and large, All Shall be Well... is a melancholic, odd, and beautifully written tragedy - one that most people will probably overlook due to the title and subject matter. And it's a shame, that. I sort of loved this book.

[``Laurie · Rating 3 out of 5]

This was a hilarious book about a man addicted to the Middle Ages and since I'm addicted as well I could relate very well to his plight.
Reading about his obsession with living the medieval lifestyle in modern times was absolutely delightful.

[Saleh MoonWalker · Rating 3 out of 5]

Onvan : All Shall Be Well; And All Shall Be Well; And All Manner of Things Shall Be Well - Nevisande : Tod Wodicka - ISBN : 375424733 - ISBN13 : 9780375424731 - Dar 272 Safhe - Saal e Chap : 2007

[Al Bità · Rating 5 out of 5]

Dozens of copies of this book were stacked in a second-hand bookshop in Newtown, Sydney, going for $AUD4.95 each... I was intrigued enough by its cover (a reproduction of a detail of Ghirlandaio's wonderful painting 'Portrait of an Old Man and a Boy) and by the blurb on the back.

This novel is purportedly the story of the protagonist, Burt Hecker, who cannot stand the modern world, and has retreated into a world of 'historic mediaeval re-enactment' in which he indulges himself together with the members of his Confraternity of Times Lost Regained (CTLR). He wants to live his life as if he were living 600 years in the past; so anything which was not available to people of that time are eschewed as being OOP (Out Of Period). He is on a one-way trip to Germany to attend the 900th birthday celebrations of Hildegard von Bingen.

The book is presented basically in three sections: the first and the last are 'continuous'; the middle section is a kind of flashback to some of the events leading to the present flight from the modern world. Some of the book is also written using italics, which seem to be written by 'someone else': the main text is written in the first person by Burt himself.

Initially I was amused by the carping Burt and his take on modern life; then by the end of the first section, I began to dislike intensely this more or less constantly drunk (on mead) and his apparent inability/unwillingness to connect properly with anyone around him, especially with his two children. There is even a sense of self-pity under all the intellectual posturing. Part 2, however, brings in new information, and it deals with his wife Kitty, daughter of an emigree the feisty Anna Bibko from Poland, who had fled the atrocities committed on her people the Lemkos. She cannot forgive or forget — and if Burt is seeking some kind of escape by living in the middle ages, Anna simply cannot escape her past history.

In a sense, then, this is a story about people caught between two cultures, much as many migrants children are, and the suffering and confusion mistaken intentions and misunderstood actions can wreak on them and their loved ones. Wodica's writing is superb, and very elegant and intelligent. The conceit he uses (Burt's first person narration) is deceptive, but not in a sense of the author trying to deceive the reader: the reader is effectively distanced from Burt, who can be quite obnoxious, and may even be somewhat insane (a sufferer of a mild form of Asperger's Syndrome?) so the reader eventually realises that the narrator may not be that reliable after all in what he chooses to tell us and when. I found it interesting, for example, that Burt, who carries a copy of the Ghirlandaio painting, keeps on referring to it as the 'Portrait of an Old Man and his Son (not Boy)'; and the element of Burt's attempt to seek some kind of reconciliation with his son Tristram/Tim is a central motivating factor of the novel.

But it is much more than that. The cumulative effect is one of great sadness and beauty; a meditation on the human condition which is ultimately quite moving. Once one understands where Burt is coming from, he and his followers in the CTLR are quite hilarious, a much needed antidote to the serious questions otherwise raised about how someone might deal with the past. The title, incidentally, comes from another anchorite (lady) Julian of Norwich (1234 CE).

I ended up loving this book.

[Tobey · Rating 4 out of 5]

Wow. I teach my students that all stories need conflict. Nobody wants to read a book, or watch a TV show, or a movie (I say) about a person who wakes up in the morning and has just the best day ever and then they hop into bed that night with a smile on their face. Authors mine misery and that's how we end up with sad, beautiful, laugh-out-loud funny books like All Shall Be Well; and All Shall Be Well; and All Manner of Things Shall Be Well.

This is the story of senior citizen Burt Hecker, or Eckbert Attquiet as he's known when he is reinacting the medieval era with his Confraternity of Times Lost Regained. Burt's life is a long, slow trainwreck (or donkeycartwreck, if you prefer) punctuated by moments of joy with his wife Kitty (who he loses to cancer), and with his home-fermented mead which he drinks constantly from a small, historically accurate earthenware jar instead of a flask.

This book reminded me a lot of Michael Chabon's life-alteringly good novel Wonderboys, but I think, in the end, Burt had things much rougher than Grady Tripp. Grady's life collapsed in on him over the course of a weekend at home. Burt Hecker is traveling across Europe trying to find his estranged son (which he does, surprisingly early in the novel) and for awhile Burt gets into one wacky situation after another. The book is predominantly flashback though, tracing his life up to the point that he finds himself in Prague trying to put his shattered life and family back together.

The book ends with a lot of things unresolved, and I'll tell ya, I think that's for the best because Burt insists many times throughout his life that he's going to stop living in the past and get it together. I have to wonder if his latest declaration will be any different.

You should really do what you have to do to get ahold of this one. You won't regret it.

[Janet · Rating 4 out of 5]

It's interesting to read the other reviews on this; a lot of people really hated it, despite the fact that it is a beautifully written book. I loved it. It reminded me of Confederacy of Dunces, with the same type of main character: useless in modern society, probably impossible to live with, fascinated with medieval society. Burt Hecker is person I wouldn't like at all in real life, but can't help really liking while I'm in his head. All Shall Be Well shares Confederacy of Dunces' tone of heartbreaking black humor, as well. The scenes with Burt's family are unforgettable - especially since we only see them from Burt's point of view. It is clear that he and the other characters will never truly understand each other, but remain deeply connected.

I had to subtract a star for the terrible title, but added it back for the "Confraternity of Times Lost Regained" (CTLR), a medieval reenactment society. Best name ever.

What is a confraternity, anyway?

[kaitlyn · Rating 3 out of 5]

The entire time I was reading this book, I was trying to decide how I felt about it. It didn't push me away, but it certainly didn't pull me in. The story was there and I was there and we were both just there, hanging out, not really accomplishing anything or interacting with each other. There were times when I had to stop and appreciate the beauty of the writing (this is why it gets 3 stars and not less), but I never stopped to consider the beauty of the story—it simply wasn't beautiful to me. Burt was neither reprehensible nor lovable. He just was. And I still don't understand why anything happened.

[Gphatty · Rating 3 out of 5]

Despite the middling review, this is a really good book. I loved the subject matter -- a man so troubled that he practically loses himself in historical re-enactments. The good balance between fine writing and faster-paced narratives; the stilted and realistic interactions between family members; the wry observations from the protagonist; the locations being places I was moderately familiar with -- all kept me eagerly reading until the end.

inadvertent spoilers:

But the end was unsatisfying. It was both very realistic and a co-op out at the same time. I almost could believe the author wasn't sure about how it would all turn out in his own head.

End spoilers.

However, I really enjoyed reading the book, because so many of the themes -- pursuing your hobbies as a way of dealing with grief/injustic; the death of your wife; watching your children embrace or reject your person -- so many of these themes were very rich for me. Maybe it is the right time of my life -- I surely can't imagine a single, childless person finding the book fun or interesting. But I'm definitely going to pass it on selectively, and try to see if others feel the same way about the ending that I do.

[Jeanne · Rating 3 out of 5]

Burt Hecker enjoys re-enacting medieval times in upstate New York. A former history teacher, he spends his time overindulging in homemade mead and wearing a tunic everywhere.

Quirky? Yes. Odd? Certainly. Mentally unstable? Not so sure. Burt has so much on his mind. Now coping with the death of his wife and the estrangement between him and his two children, Burt has let his behavior spiral out of control. This leads us to our story. . .

A medieval chanting workshop takes Burt to Europe, where, among other things, he celebrates St. Hildegard von Bingen and tracks down his son, Tristan. His son's less than warm reception leads to a flashback to how Burt became so unpopular with his family.

It's hard to write off Burt. He is unusual, but not unlikable. While you may not approve of all of his choices, you do feel sympathetic towards the man and cannot help but to hope for the best for him and his family.

2/10/08

[Rose Peterson · Rating 4 out of 5]

This book is on the list of Books I Must Read Because Makenzie Nokes Spoke So Zealously About Them Over What Amounts to Hours of Transatlantic Audio Messages...and like other books on the list (Trauma & Recovery, Why Fish Don't Exist, Begin Again, Vladimir), this one didn't disappoint.

The book manages to be understated even though Burt, the main character, is anything but. Wodicka makes it possible (maybe even inevitable) to empathize with this often unlovable character. It's a beautifully written--there were so many gut punches delivered through a tiny turn or short phrase--and heartbreaking contemplation of how what saves you can also be your downfall.

"Two steps out into that crowd and, I knew, my problems would cease along with the present century. My problems wouldn't even be born yet; anything was still possible out there in the past" (192).

[Elaine · Rating 3 out of 5]

Quite often, I have to read 50 or more pages to succumb to a book's world. Far more rarely do I succumb with glee on page 1 and am bored to tears by page 80 or so. Wodwicka has created a marvelously flawed hero, but when he tells the story of Kitty, entirely in italics for some strange reason, it began to lag. Moreover, too much defies my ability to suspend disbelief. like the Lemko in Poland who were not Polish.

Nor, apparently, were they living in the 20th or 21st centuries. It strained my credulity that an American woman would return to a place like Lemko and spend her middle age promulgating the horrors the Lemko putatively suffered. True, she was born there, but emigrated when she was 4, becoming wholly assimilated to American culture

Coming from an immigrant family and culture, I never heard of one going back to their godforsaken homelands to foment rebellion, no matter how upset they were by the massacres of their people. Okay, I'm narrow minded and just because nobody I know did it doesn't make it impossible. Put it another way. Wodwicka's prose didn't convince. There was nothing presented in her character that made her Lemko project believable.

Similarly, Kitty's trip to Lemko when she was 4, retold by her in adulthood was absurd. What 4 year old would remember such detail 40 years or more later.

Another unbelievable skein is the business of Bert's nose. If it was that large and caused him that much trouble, why didn't he have a nose job? Long before 1998 there were a plethora of plastic surgeons devoted to straightening and shortening noses. It speaks to the author's lack of skill that whenever the nose was mentioned, I felt like screaming, "Get the goddamned thing fixed" If Bert needed a physical flaw, it should have been an unfixable one

Other reviewers consider this on a par with Wonder Boys. I do not. Wodwicka is no Chabon, IMHO

[Andrea · Rating 5 out of 5]

This book was more reflective, more deeply troubling, and much sadder and heart wrenching than I expected it to be. I picked it up as a former (or should I say reformed) medieval re-enactor and was looking forward to this book. It didn't disappoint.

In it, the main character's (Burt Hecker) life spirals out of control when his wife dies of cancer. Burt is very child-like in so many ways and needs someone as his care taker. He feels like a displaced person in his time period, refuses to eat anything OOP (out of period), and has an addiction to mead. Burt has his own troubling past and his way of coping is to live in the past - a very distant past. Unfortunately, when the present overwhelms Burt falls apart letting down everyone around him, but most devastatingly so, his two children.

After a court ordered anger management program (that include medieval chanting), Burt takes a one-way trip to Europe in an attempt to find his son and reconcile. It is a sad journey - one that left my heart breaking for all involved. Yet there was humor in this story. There was humor in the unexpected. I laughed out loud on several occasions - whether from Burt's description, one of the side character's perceptions, or Burt's own comparisons of today and the past.

I thought this book might be just for people who like history. However, I think this book is for anyone who is interested in family, forgiveness, reconciliation, and - sometimes - the impossibility of it all.

[Thurston Hunger · Rating 3 out of 5]

One of three books I suggested for our book club, along with Kobo Abe's "The Ark Sakura" and Joshua Mohr's "Fight Song", the latter was chosen. But perhaps this one would be better received?

The harmless and helpless main character here, may not be timeless, but his disconnection from his progeny and epoch get the loom spinning for this yarn. And there's something about a pathetic man, even if marinated in his old mead, that still gives off some sort of powerful pheromones.

The savvy power-lawyer friend I suspect is the more likely identifier for woman who want to save the weak male. Of course first comes Kitty, named not for a feline, but apparently for a pile of winnings...she helps to bankroll Burt Hecker and his alter ego Eckbert Attquiet.

While most of the novel tilts between cartoon bufoonery and awkward family dysfunction, some of the moments between Kitty and Bert serve as a rewarding respite giving the book just the right amount of normalcy that at least I needed.

By the time the end rolls around, there seems to be a confusion of history and hysteria...and not quite a deus ex Hildegard von Bingen. Still a pretty solid first novel, and while I almost wanted the Lemko people to have been a creation of the author, but in reality their story is far sadder than the travails of Eckbert Attquiet.

[Tam · Rating 2 out of 5]

One star does seem so very harsh. It wasn't that I didn't like it. It was that the author seemed to be looking for the story himself and couldn't find it. The characters never came into their own, so you never really cared about them. The dead wife, the immigrant mother-in-law, the lawyer friend, the distant daughter, the son - never came into full view - they just kinda lurked there in the shadows not helping the story at all. If you're gonna have a character make them pull their weight - make them show up in some form that advances the story because the wallowing Burt couldn't manage it. The TS Eliot poem, which includes the Julian of Norwich phrase starts off "Whatever we inherit from the fortunate. We have taken from the defeated" - why not start there? It's his first book, so who am I to criticize - I'll read the next one and see if he can manage to really go where the art form can take him. He seems a fearful writer, but I can't explain why I feel that way - there is just something about tip-toeing around the outer extremities of this book that makes me think he didn't have the courage to really get into it.

[astried · Rating 3 out of 5]

I always fall for the lousy guys... not necessarily the big bad wolf just those pathetic no good can't help themselves type. maybe because i'd think those are the faults that i can imagine i'd do as well. well, this guy is one of them though he's also funny in a dry sort of way. it's those small comments or opinions he throws out once in a while that makes his sorry story feels entertaining. only, somehow... i'm thinking maybe this book is too short. i was still trying to picture how his n his wife's life together, and i just couldn't. we know he has done unforgivable thing on her dying days to his family, we know how they met, but despite the whole length of the book dedicated to rumination of it, i still feel there's a gap there, i just couldn't imagine it; i can't imagine what kind of person his wife was. i especially didn't get that bit that was being kept a secret by the mother in law, really not working for me in establishing her character.

[Eric · Rating 3 out of 5]

Synopsis: An older man tries to find redemption for his life after the death of his wife, his separation from his children and the loss of everything he's ever known.

An okay read. I don't know if it was the fact that I didn't have a lot of time to read it that made me take so long, or if I was not thrilled with the subject matter. It's very well written, and the arguments are very well done. It doesn't end up wrapped up neatly, but it does manage to bring disparate elements together. Some things are still unclear, but they're inconsequential to the fact that his family, for all it's faults, is still there.

[Holly · Rating 3 out of 5]

The gentleman who read the audio version (Jason Culp) did a great job, but I think I'd recommend reading this on the page over listening to the audio. It's a long enough novel that I had trouble sustaining engagement with the story in the middle hours. But that's just me. There was both a droll humor and deep sadness to this story, and also Hildegarde von Bingen and medieval reenactors, which are all interesting. Sometimes the tone reminded me of Dear American Airlines (crusty old guy's ruminations and yearning to reconnect with his children).

[Marina · Rating 3 out of 5]

It really gets on my nerves when the only way an author can create suspense is to introduce us to the plot only in snippets and then back track when things get heavy, just divert us for another 30 pages beofre giving a few more paragraphs moving the plot forward. I realize that I am awfully picky.

So be it.

And don't get me started about leaving things up-ended and unresolved.

[Nancy · Rating 2 out of 5]

I wanted to like this book a lot more than I did. A lifelong slacker throws himself in to his hobby as a medieval re-enactor, so deeply involved with it that he's barely aware that his wife is dying of cancer. After her death, he sells the family inn and goes to Europe for the 900th birthday celebration of some obscure saint. Too many forced "wacky" characters, too many "madcap" adventures.

[Colin · Rating 3 out of 5]

An odd book about the emotional turmoil and family life of a man who is a medievalist and historical reenactor. Kind of an odd book. I liked the historical bits, and the family drama was fairly compelling, but the two elements didn't synchronize very well for me.

[Kathy · Rating 2 out of 5]

I read this book to the end, hoping against hope that it would take a turn and be less depressing and pointless.
It didn't.

[RICHA KALE · Rating 3 out of 5]

“It was an oak, brown, orange in the sunlight of an old New England design. The chair was grandmotherly, brittle and sanctimonious.”
“…looking out over the recently mowed lawn, the violent crispness of it.”
“It was another affront, the way the world continued to manufacture such beautiful days.”

This is an unusual book about an eccentric, peculiar looking sexagenarian obsessed with medieval re-enactment. The year is 1998, but Burt Hecker likes to believe that it is still the 13th century and insists on being referred to by his historically accurate moniker Eckbert Attquiet. The novel explores Burt’s troubled past and his struggle as he flits between the two worlds, the real one and the one in his warped mind. Under the spell of his medieval fantasies, Eckbert brews mead, dresses in loose fitted tunics, and leads meetings and gatherings of the CTLR - Confraternity of Times Lost Regained. Anything not in harmony with his historical timeline is tagged as OOP – Out Of Period. Eckberts finds the modern world surreal and has no desire to engage with the mechanisations of modernity like automobiles and airplanes.
The story reveals how his bizarre passion unravels his family and leaves a trail of destruction in its path. The pages depict his relationship with his children Tristan and June and his extraordinary bond with his wife Kitty. His lawyer Lonna and mother-in-law Anna are two lively influences in the novel.
This is not an easy book to read. I was intrigued by the title and then the lyrical prose captivated the writer in me. The beginning tends be slow and I was feeling quite lost with all the historical references. The pace does pick up in the middle with the story about his wife Kitty and the revelations about how his relationship with the children evolves. There are some scenes that will make you laugh out loud. There is a wry humour and an underlining satirical flavour to the writing. I found it problematic though that large part of the story is in flashbacks, and the scenes seem more in-summary. I found the end to be abrupt and was annoyed that it didn’t give me a sense of closure. At the end of it, did leave me unsure of ; what just happened, and should I care?
There is a strange beauty to Tod Wodicka’s writing and my journal is enriched with many quotable quotes. Read this book if you want to read something unique and have the patience to stick with the mildly entertaining plot.

[Sacha Bastien-Marek · Rating 4 out of 5]

I found the contrast between Wodicka's treatment of description and musing and dialogue stark and off putting. The book is well thought out, connecting several thematic threads. The adventures of our anachronistic main character and his thoughts and feelings are so endearing but then we have scenes where his daughter enters and really spoils everything. This could be purposeful. It's a melodramatic effect and she is not relatable as a character because she basically just complains and pantomimes bad t.v. Dialogue. The other characters are all basically stoic, calm, cool, collected and/or downright catatonic. They are treated with a lot of deference and I get this. I agree with the author. People who are calm but able to express themselves are the best kind of people. I wish the daughter's point of view was a little less wrong. Yes she is narcissistic, but her complaints are fair. Too bad so sad. Would make a good movie.

[Sarah · Rating 4 out of 5]

I picked up this book due to the title, not in spite of it. I happen to own a holy medal engraved with this quote, from Dame Julian of Norwich. So I was curious what a novelist would do in a book with a title quoting a medieval visionary.
Well it's not historical fiction, it's about a man who has embraced his RenFaire persona and how he deals with his wife's long sick bed and death. I particularly enjoyed the interactions with (and flashbacks of) his Polish-American mother-in-law.
Because I love Dame Julian, I wished the author had done more with her than just the quote and less with Hildegard von Bingen , but I admit Hildegard gives an author more material to work with.
Looking forward to re-reading it someday.

[Elderberrywine · Rating 4 out of 5]

I have always loved this title, a quote from the prioress Julian of Norwich.

NARRATOR: And yet, all was not well. It was really, really, not well.

Burt Hacker, medieval enthusiast, has sold off the Inn after his wife's death, and has scarpered off to Europe to indulge in the life medieval. His two kids have issues with this. Fortunately, his friend and lawyer has his back (and is always willing to indulge him with his only two non-OOP beverages - wine and mead), which is a very good thing. I always enjoyed her popping in.

I'm not sure if we left him better off than when we met him.

[Jenny · Rating 2 out of 5]

Wodicka's novel isn't badly written (how's that for damning with faint praise). It's the story of an eccentric widower whose life is falling to pieces, which, while not original can still be unique. ("All happy families are alike; each unhappy family is unhappy in its own way.") I was originally attracted to it because of the title (a quote from Julian of Norwich) but ended up abandoning the book because I simply didn't care enough about the protagonist to follow his journey for another 200 pages.

I can't see myself going back to it in the future, but if I was trapped on a desert island with only this book, I wouldn't refuse to read it.

[Jasper Brooks · Rating 5 out of 5]

Favorite book since 2008. 1) The plot works fine - family dysfunction due to the narrator’s alcohol-induced irresponsibility, reactions his wife’s cancer, and later disputes over money. 2) Great story - narrator Burt Becker’s salvation and damnation as a result of his choosing to live his life as if he were in the Middle Ages rather than being engaged with his family in the modern world. 3) The major appeal was the narrator’s sardonic perspective, characterizing everything he experiences in contrast to a preferred existence in the Middle Ages which he describes in highly entertaining detail.

[Kristen · Rating 2 out of 5]

I picked this one up because I was intrigued by the idea of a person who so thoroughly immersed himself in medieval reenactment that he never wanted to leave it. As a medievalist and scholar of Hildegard of Bingen, I can understand that appeal. In the end, though, the people were all whiny little bitches lacking real growth or depth and it was ultimately a book about wealthy white man problems. Meh.

[Erika · Rating 3 out of 5]

Strange but really-well written book. The main character is obsessed with medieval re-enactment. Like, 24/7. But really it's about people who don't fit in, grief and family relationships. Also, you get a nice peak into the outlying regions of Prague - the only European city that I've spent any significant time in.