In this dazzling debut about family, home, and grief, C. Morgan Babst takes readers into the heart of Hurricane Katrina and the life of a great city.
As the storm is fast approaching the Louisiana coast, Cora Boisdoré refuses to leave the city. Her parents, Joe Boisdoré, an artist descended from freed slaves who became the city’s preeminent furniture makers, and his white “Uptown” wife, Dr. Tess Eshleman, are forced to evacuate without her, setting off a chain of events that leaves their marriage in shambles and Cora catatonic—the victim or perpetrator of some violence mysterious even to herself.
This mystery is at the center of Babst’s haunting and profound novel. Cora’s sister, Del, returns to New Orleans from the successful life she built in New York City to find her hometown in ruins and her family deeply alienated from one another. As Del attempts to figure out what happened to her sister, she must also reckon with the racial history of the city and the trauma of a disaster that was not, in fact, some random act of God but an avoidable tragedy visited on New Orleans’s most vulnerable citizens. Separately and together, each member of the Boisdoré clan must find the strength to remake home in a city forever changed.
The Floating World is the Katrina story that needed to be told—one with a piercing, unforgettable loveliness and a vivid, intimate understanding of this particular place and its tangled past.
C. Morgan Babst studied writing at NOCCA, Yale, and N.Y.U. Her essays and short fiction have appeared in such journals as The Oxford American, Guernica, the Harvard Review, LitHub, the New Orleans Review, and her piece, 'Death Is a Way to Be,' was honored as a Notable Essay in Best American Essays 2016. She evacuated New Orleans one day before Hurricane Katrina made landfall. After eleven years in New York, she now lives in New Orleans with her husband and child.
Before, during and after Hurricane Katrina. A family torn apart by the refusal of one daughter to leave with the mandatory evacuation order. Changes and survival. Unfortunately I found the writing style not to my liking, just kind of disjointed and strange. Never really connected to any of the characters nor the storyline, so abandoning after fifty percent. Kept reading, was interested in the subject matter and kept hoping it would draw me in. Accepting defeat!
I got my hands on an ARC of this book through a friend in the industry who thought I'd like it, and she was not wrong. This book was beautifully written. While the plot centered around death, destruction, and deteriorating familial relationships, the language coursed in a very poetic, lyrical way, and the global structure ebbed and flowed between the past and the present... which just seems fitting for a story about the effects of Hurricane Katrina on one New Orleans family.
The book is not about the city as a whole or the hurricane or its aftermath to the city itself, but rather about one family who can trace their own history almost as far back as the founding of the New Orleans. The Boisdoré family is tied to the city - there is a recurrence throughout the generations of attempts to leave, only to be drawn back - but when the mandatory evacuations before Katrina were given, Joe (an artist) and Tess (a psychiatrist) pack up and leave with Joe's father (a former artisan furniture maker and current sufferer of some form of dementia), but leave their adult daughter, Cora, alone to brave the storm, while their other daughter, Del, watches the news from her NYC home.
Something happens during the storm that leaves Cora trapped in her own mind. She won’t talk to anyone about what she saw, she spends most of her days in bed, and wanders from the house in the middle of the night, barefoot, through all the toxic muck left by the storm. Del leaves everything she has in NYC and rushes home to New Orleans without any intention of returning, and their parents separate, the blame they lay on themselves and each other for Cora's reaction only exacerbating years of doubts and tensions stemming, not insignificantly, from their different race and class backgrounds. Tess stays with the girls, and Joe moves into the Boidoré cabin with his father, each dealing with their own personal demons and a heavy dose of denial. The style of the book unfolds the story from each of the characters’ unique points of view, giving us a unique portrait of how they each deal with grief, tragedy, and betrayal.
Despite the profound depression cast over the plot, there is a sense of perseverance. Like the city after the storm, the Boisdoré family, torn apart and broken, still has the hope and strength to rebuild. Rebuilding will look very different, maybe even more like a re-creation, but it could be better. I liked the metaphor of the family for the city, and the storm for the whole slew of problems the Boisdorés are facing. I loved the use of language and the peek into this family’s lives. That being said, this book is not for everyone. It fits squarely into the Literary Fiction category, which I guess some people don’t like. It’s not a genre book, so it’s not going to follow a formula or give you all the pieces of a neat little puzzle. Like real life, you’re going to be missing certain things when you get to know these people. But it’s a beautifully told story that I enjoyed very much – probably about a 4.5 on the star scale. I rounded to 5 because it deserves it.
One critique – at the end, there are some phone numbers used for Rome, Illinois (in the central part of the state). The area code in the galley copy was 319, which is actually central Iowa (Cedar Rapids/Iowa City), which also experienced horrific, toxic, home-destroying, thousand-year flood conditions only 3 years after Katrina hit New Orleans. While there were definitely those who lost homes in both floods, I would hate for any of the characters in this book to be connected to both, especially erroneously.
This book blew me away. I loved the language and story. The fact that it is about to come out just after Houston is flooding is wild. What a great read you should jump on right NOW.
A great premise (what happened to those stranded in New Orleans during and after Katrina) get bogged down in a very confusing writing style. There were so many flashbacks involving the same characters between time period only weeks apart it was impossible to keep track what was occurring now and what was before. Add to this mess - one witness with dementia and another having a mental breakdown which equaled both having hallucinations I was completely lost and eventually gave up. Also this was a book in dire need of editing to remove all of the unnecessary sidebars that made the book even longer. I do not recommend investing any time here.
As dark and disturbing as Katrina herself, THE FLOATING WORLD takes readers into the most damaged neighborhoods of New Orleans, both during and after the epic storm, in this story of family, race and a city in crisis.
Thanks to Algonquin Books for the review copy of this title.
This book is not an easy read. It's not a page turner or a nail biter. It's not a story of a strong New Orleans rising after a devastating storm and it's not a story of a family coming together in a time of need. It's a fiercely honest account of a family going through tortured times, both emotional and environmental. It's a story of hearts breaking and a city sinking and the absolute worst that people can do. As you read, you are trapped in the brains of humans who are suffering, both in typical ways and in ways brought about by mental illness and dementia.
But. But. You also experience the depths of the human condition and the brutal racial divide in the city. You learn about the horrors of a storm most of us haven't experienced firsthand, and to understand is to empathize.
Is this happy? No. Is it important? Yes.
If you like dark, ruminative stories about complex social issues, this one's for you. If you're looking for a light, fast-paced adventure story about surviving a hurricane, this will definitely surprise you with its slow and meandering nature and psychological focus.
2.5 stars... like New Orleans after Katrina, this book is bloated and depressing as hell... it’s a mystery of sorts but the way the author goes about telling the story is so ass-backwards... I came really close to putting it down, but I am glad I finished it... a tough read all around...
There's a good story buried in here somewhere, but the plotting the author used didn't make it easy to empathize with the characters. And too many storylines thrown into one book. Pass on this one.
Earlier this month I was listening to an interview with Margaret Atwood on the blog Call Your Girlfriend. The interviewer was asking Atwood what she thought about in terms of how eerily prescient The Handmaiden's Tale remains decades after it was written and now made into a television series - and what role dystopias take in fiction as a response to our current political climate. Atwood elaborated (I'm paraphrasing) that for many people, their worlds are always a dystopia, and we just choose to not see it. Those words have stuck with me as hurricanes have made landfall, more rights have been taken away, and millions of Americans live in abject poverty, despite our nation being "rich." For all those people worried about a zombie take-over, we've forgotten that apocalypses happen on - and off - our shores regularly, including the neglect and abandonment of New Orleans during Hurricane Katrina.
Babst takes us through this time - before the Hurricane falls and after - and her words mold (literally), whip, crack, pummel, and submerge the reader to peer into one family's life and lies. How do we define "place" and where we are in space and time and societal norms, and what happens when we leave place - to flee, hide, and start anew? Pick up this book, hunker down, and emerge with hope and hopelessness.
This is story of a New Orleans family that focuses on how Hurricane Katrina and its aftermath impact them. It leapfrogs between characters with little warning and no transition, as well as jumping around in time - particularly in the case of the aging patriarch with Alzheimer's. The tiny mystery about Reyna and Cora's time in the city alone kept me reading, but the disjointed storytelling kept pulling me out of the story. Ultimately, I wasn't sure what the point was, and I didn't find any of the characters very compelling.
Free copy received courtesy of NetGalley & the publisher.
Disclaimer: I was provided a free copy of The Floating World in exchange for an honest review. Thank you to NetGalley, Algonquin Books, and C. Morgan Babst for the advance copy.
Synopsis Set in the days and months following Hurricane Katrina, The Floating World tells the story of the disintegration of the Boisdoré family—mother, psychiatrist Dr. Tess Eschleman; father, artist Joe Boisdoré; sisters Del and Cora; and grandfather, former master woodworker Vincent Boisdoré. Before the storm, Tess and Joe try to get their daughter Cora to go with them—she refuses and her parents evacuate without her. Del rides out the storm in New York, where she fled many years before. After the storm, Tess and Joe return, first to find Cora physically, then to bring her back from where she’s been locked up mentally. Del returns as well, attempting both to draw Cora back to herself to quell pull of New Orleans in her own bones.
Subject Matter With the focus on this family, the book felt less about New Orleans and the aftermath of Katrina and more about this family and their dynamics. When the books opens, it’s several weeks after the storm. While Joe and Tess evacuated and returned together, upon reentry they separate. Turns out, the winds were simply the thing that revealed the previously hidden distance between them.
An interesting (arguably frustrating) thing here is that “complicated family drama” isn’t the main way this book is marketed. Even within the publisher’s Amazon summary, the three paragraphs end by emphasizing that Katrina’s damage was “not, in fact, some random act of God, but an avoidable tragedy visited upon New Orleans’ most helpless and forgotten citizens.” With this summary, I went into the book with very different expectations. Katrina set the stage but neither the storm nor, frankly, the unequal impact of the devastation were really the subject here.
Complicated Family This normally wouldn’t be an issue since complicated families are a favorite subject of mine for reading; however, something in The Floating World just fell flat. Much of my problem stemmed from my inability to really connect with any of the characters. Normally, there is something in at least one character that I can connect to—even if only tangentially. That connection makes me care about what happens to that character and, in turn, the characters that person cares for. While Babst attempts to make Cora’s sister, Del; her father, Joe; and her grandfather, Vincent into sympathetic characters, there just wasn’t enough there for me to connect to. Her mother, Tess, was so utterly selfish that I didn’t care to try to find a connection there. In hindsight, she’s probably supposed to be at least a little sympathetic—the psychiatrist on the edge of the nervous breakdown herself—but I found her so unlikeable as to almost a villain—nothing she did was right and her meddling was irritating.
Another White Author Problem? I don’t want to over simplify and say it was entirely this; however, I do think at least some of the issue here came from a white writer trying to write black characters. Babst mentions things like the failures of the Army Corps of Engineers and the racial divide that placed the people of color in the areas that wound up with the most devastation, but she does it in a way that feels almost like an afterthought—she doesn’t show. She simply tells. A character gets up on their tiny soapbox for a moment, says their pithy background comment about how racism created the situation that Katrina revealed, climbs back down, and the narrative continues, totally disconnected from the point she was making. It was as if Babst herself didn’t realize there was such a racial impact to the storm until she learned about it afterwards, reading the newspapers, and felt compelled to share these nuggets to make her book more accurate. Which—these things are absolutely true—there was a huge racial impact. But Babst’s presentation of them was blunt and served more to make it clear she knew there was an impact so she could then carry on with the story she was otherwise telling.
Babst also attempts to get at some of the racial divide by having Joe be black and Tess be white—so, of course, Cora and Del are mixed race. This also didn’t seem to be done particularly well, especially when compared to a character like Rowan in Dreamland Burning. It felt almost like Babst wrote the story she wanted to tell, decided to make Joe black, and went back and changed some details to correspond to Joe being black. There is so much more here that could have been explored, but it felt half-hearted. I honestly wondered whether Babst had gotten POC beta readers.
Redeeming points The only really redeeming points for me in this book were Cora and Vincent. When the book starts, you don’t hear much from Cora herself—there are a few small vignettes from her but the majority of the impression you get about Cora is from others—her mother and her sister in particular, as Joe is largely consumed with caring for his ailing father. You quickly gather that Cora has survived some unknown trauma that has caused her to curl into herself, sucking her into a depression she has apparently experienced before. She doesn’t eat, doesn’t sleep, doesn’t bathe. She wanders in the flooded city full of toxic mud at night. Tess and Del attempt to help her, though it quickly feels obvious that these attempts are as much about Tess and Del as they are about Cora. Cora’s point of view isn’t tangibly presented until almost halfway through the book—which is a shame. She is perhaps a character I could have connected to and identified with; however, by waiting until over a third of the way in to really flesh her out from her own point of view, Babst waited too long. It was too late for me to feel invested in her or the book.
I did feel for Vincent as well—in the throes of Lewy Body Dementia, he bounces around in time, sometimes in the present, oftentimes not. He wasn’t a character I could identify with; however, I did feel sympathetic for him and his inclusion did make the story richer. Babst also probably missed some opportunities here by not having more scenes with Vincent’s past experiences of New Orleans. One of the most poignant scenes with Vincent is when he wanders off through the abandoned cars seeking a pie, seeing instead a New Orleans fifty years prior.
Mental Illness I do think Babst did a respectable job with the treatment of depression in The Floating World—both with Cora and another character. As much as I hated Tess, her overbearing know-better-ness was also spot on for at least a handful of psychiatrists with whom I’ve interacted. Babst treated this particular topic respectfully, if not perfectly. Shoddy treatment of mental illness is a pet peeve of mine but nothing Babst did in this particular area set my nerves jangling.
Writing Overall, The Floating World was technically well written but because I didn’t connect to the characters in any way, it just sort of…fell flat. There were several well-written paragraphs and turns of phrase that made me pause to appreciate the writing. (Tess’s paramour is described as “an aging Debutante’s Delight of middling intelligence”—I might have guffawed out loud at that one.) It was a solid effort and, if she can make me care about her characters, I’d give her sophomore attempt a go. Overall, the book is well above average in writing and there are definitely some reviewers out there that will disagree with my assessment about the characters being too unlikable or half-heartedly presented for connection. It was the writing that pushed me to a three and a half rating, rather than just a three.
One final note—Babst did make a style choice that didn’t bother me but may be disconcerting to some readers. Her sections are long and she switches back and forth between each family member without warning—there are no headers to tell you that you’ve switched characters. I didn’t have too much trouble figuring out that she’d switched points of view within a few second just by topic—the voice of her characters doesn’t vary terribly much between characters—this was perhaps a missed opportunity, though in Babst’s hands this could easily have become gimmicky (or worse).
Notes Published: October 17, 2017 by Algonquin Books (@algonquinbooks) Author: C. Morgan Babst (@cmorganbabst) Date read: October 16, 2017 Rating: 3 ½ stars
I liked this story. I wanted to like this book, I really did. But, the more I think about it, the more I realize that I didn't. I can't. The writing itself was beautifully well done, but was undermined by the disjointed chronology of the storytelling. It was extremely confusing to figure out what was going on, and when. That kind of thinking is expected in thriller novels, not a family drama, where I'm supposed to let my heart lead through the pages, not my mind. The female characters in the story, Tess and her two daughters, were, truthfully, rather pathetic, weak, and unlikable. I feel badly for the men in the story - Joe, Tony, and Zach, because they are each presented as fine men, who, because of their love for these women, are sadly taken advantage of time and time again. Then again, they kept coming back for more, so shame on you once... Oh, and side note: I've never been to a psychiatrist, but I'm pretty sure I'm correct in being rather offended in the presentation of both Tess as her friend Alice as such. The obliviousness and unprofessionalism both women displayed makes me think there was no research done into the profession by the author.
In the end, I'll look for other books by this author, because of the promising writing style, but I really hope that she switches to either linear timelines, or to the suspense genre.
With Hurricane Katrina approaching the coast, Cora refuses to leave the family home. Her father Joe, a descendant of a freed slave, and Cora's mother, Tess, a white psychiatrist, evacuate the city without Cora. After the storm, the couple's other daughter, Del, arrives and sees her hometown in shambles, her sister in a near catatonic state, and her parents marriage in shambles. As Del tries to piece together what happened in her absence, she sees that so many factors led to the destruction of a city and its people.
I just didn't connect with this book at all which is a shame because given the description I had high hopes going in. The story lines just never seemed to flow together. I believe part of the problem was the book tried to tackle so many issues such as race, mental illness, family relationships, etc. and as a result the story really suffered. I think if the book would have focused on the two sisters instead of also the parents and the grandfather, I might have enjoyed it more. Overall, it seemed the author was overly ambitious and lost track of the importance of keeping the reader engaged in the story.
I won a free copy of this book in a giveaway but was under no obligation to post a review. All views expressed are my honest opinion.
I don't exactly know how to describe this book, I loved it and was challenged by it. It's not an easy read, it's not for someone who doesn't enjoy working through a book, being disturbed by it, having to think about it all the time. I'm a little sad about the many two-star reviews - it seems people just want easy reads, nothing too depressing (real?) or challenging. Jumping around in time makes this a richer, not a more difficult or confusing book, in my opinion. The characters are flawed and you learn so much about them by going back in time, which allows you to empathize and I admit, judge, too, but that’s what makes them authentic and keeps you real as a reader. It takes place during a tragic time and nothing should be sugar coated. I loved the writing, though not always perfect. I loved and hate and was frustrated by the characters – proof again that the author captured the human spirit. I look forward to reading more by C. Morgan Babst.
This novel centers around a family just before, during and after Hurricane Katrina. I didn't connect with any of the characters, and actually disliked most of them, with the exception of the father and grandfather.
i really wanted to love this book because it had such an interesting premise -- a crumbling marriage, a traumatized and catatonic daughter, hurricane katrina, all set against what i assumed was going to be a look at the institutionalized racism that allowed new orleans, louisiana, and the US at large to fail so many of its citizens in such a profound and lasting way -- but the plot just didn't follow through. cora was practically the poster child for manic pixie dream girls, nobody's motivations were clear, and practically all of the conflict seemed to come from miscommunication and almost malicious misunderstandings, which is in my opinion the lamest kind of conflict. i think there are just too many characters for the author to successfully flesh out, because some of them, tess and del especially, come off a bit two-dimensional and flat. also, tess is aggravating and bitchy and i couldn't shake the feeling i was supposed to be sympathizing for the poor rich white woman whose rich white crush married someone else so she had to "settle" for the black artist and have a job. the horror. i think if the book had stuck with the perspectives of the catatonic sister (cora) and the alzheimer's sufferer (vincent) it would have way more compelling, because those parts were generally the most interesting; the problem is really just that the book is marketed with a heavy emphasis on an exploration of the devastation visited on "new orleans' most helpless and forgotten citizens." the language is nice, and the book is very well written in that regard, but i guess my expectations were set too high. i hate to generalize but it feels like a white woman author problem. her black characters all just feel like an afterthought, which is incredibly fucking weird considering of the five main characters, FOUR OF THEM ARE BLACK and a huge number of side characters are too!!! it just felt really weird i dunno!! also i truly did not like the neat little wrap up at the end. it did not feel right at all. overall verdict the characters are flat and hard to connect with if not outright unlikeable, the plot does not follow through with what the blurb promises, and racial issues are poorly handled at absolute best. i'd give it 2 1/2 stars if i could
This novel which takes place during and after Hurricane Katrina (which hit in August 2005) is almost unremittingly depressing. It centers on the Boisdoré family. Joe, the father, is a Creole descended from freed slaves. Tess, the mother, is from the white upper class, and is pretty much a despicable person. She “settled” for Joe when her high school crush, the white aristocratic Augie, married her best friend Madge. Madge died five years before however from cancer.
The two grown, mixed-race daughters of Joe and Tess, Del (short for Adelaide) and Cora, are in various stages of crisis. Cora, who stayed in the city during the hurricane, is now almost catatonic, presumably suffering from PTSD, although she had a history of depression even before the storm. Del, who was in New York, is suffused with guilt for not having been there in New Orleans to help Cora. Cora and Del also each have romantic interests who, however, remain mostly ciphers, presumably included to illuminate aspects of the girls’ personalities.
Another main character is Joe’s father Vincent. He has Lewy body dementia (LBD,) a progressive brain disorder in which Lewy bodies (abnormal deposits of a protein called alpha-synuclein) build up in areas of the brain that regulate behavior, cognition, and movement. (As the Mayo Clinic website explains, this is the second most common type of progressive dementia after Alzheimer's disease dementia.) A great deal of the narrative is devoted to Vincent’s dissociation as his mind drifts between the past and present.
As the story begins, Del rushes back to Louisiana to try to help her family. Gradually, we find out (to an extent) what happened to Cora during the storm that caused her trauma, and how Del, always protective of Cora, acts to protect and heal her.
Finally, Katrina is also a main “character” in this book. For those who think a city’s problems are over when the storm passes, this story will serve as a useful (and horrifying) corrective.
This passage, for example, describes what Del sees as she drives through the city over a month after Katrina's landfall:
“There was nobody out on the street, nobody sitting on their porches. Electrical poles titled over the sidewalks, trailing their wires like trees brought down by vines, and everywhere a broken gray crust of dirt covered the concrete, the grass, the trashcans and bicycles, sofas and potted plants strewn on front lawns. On every block, disabled cars had been stranded along the curb, a thick swamp of mud on their upholstery, so that when the occasional undamaged sedan appeared in a driveway beside a flungopen house, it gleamed so brightly you saw stars.”
The outsides of houses, surrounded by “mud-coffined grass” were marked by authorities to indicate if any dead bodies were within. And the insides of the houses were “all flooded so bad the furniture lay overturned in heaps on the floor, every wall stippled with black mold.”
The world's attention turns elsewhere after a hurricane departs. For those directly affected, however, the damage to infrastructure, housing, jobs, water and food supplies, access to medical care, and effects of long-lasting psychological trauma continue to be a challenge. This book highlights what the victims face both during and after the storm.
Discussion: I didn’t find any of the characters very appealing, except for Joe. Tess resented him for not defying police to go back and get Cora after the storm, but Tess is clueless about what it means to be a person of color in relation to the police. Nevertheless, she uses her anger as an excuse to turn to Augie.
My main criticism, however, is that to me, much of the writing meets the definition of what author Ayelet Waldman once called “bore-geous.” This is writing, as she describes it, with “lush and richly imagined bits of narrative - long, lovely descriptions of characters and scenery . . . in which nothing whatsoever was going on.” In short, the writing may be good, but the content is desultory and often just boring.
Evaluation: The tensions of race and class come to the forefront during and after the devastation of Hurricane Katrina in this story of a mixed-race family affected by the storm. This bleak story ultimately fell short for me, however. I thought the characters were unappealing, and not really fleshed out enough. Moreover, the writing was too consciously literary rather than focused on the action, so that in the end, I didn’t really even feel I knew all that had happened in the plot.
1.5** This book was really promising. However, there were loads of problems with the writing:
1) The writing was disjointed, which brought me out of the story multiple times, making it difficult to keep engaged. I was genuinely confused in some parts of what was happening due to this disjointed writing style. I’m not sure if this was intentional to emphasise the experience of the trauma characters, such as Cora and Joe, experience or maybe a way to have the reader go through the memory loss Vincent experiences, but either way, it was just too confusing.
2) Although this book explores incredibly important issues, such as racial tensions and racism in the South, and how this was really prominent in the aftermath of Katrina, such as keeping the people of New Orleans literally in with having armed guards at the border of the parish lines and bridges, making it impossible for people to leave to Jefferson Parish or higher ground; the different levels of racism interracial couples and mixed children still experience; how the ability to rebuild and recover was dependent on resources, colour, and wealth; the placing of people in the Superdome rather than putting them on trains to other cities with adequate healthcare, shelter, and etc; and calling people of New Orleans “refugees,” this was all great writing, but it again wasn’t successful because she had these wonderful moments of where it really came through and then moments that were obviously off the mark or too on the nose.
3)The way Babst portrayed the black characters versus the white characters was really off-putting. For example: Tess(White) blames Joe(black) for not being able to get into New Orleans a few days after Katrina, so uses this resentment to degrade, patronise, and cheat on him with a white aristocrat, who she has been obsessed with for years— although it says her and joe are “separated,” but it is unclear what that means, such as if it is an actual separation or if they both are just getting space to process the trauma they just experienced. Babst does a good job demonstrating Tess’s cluelessness on how race played a part in Joe not being able to get through, but it seems like a pretty tenuous reason to degrade and cheat on someone. However, that type of great writing(Tess’s cluelessness) is totally washed away when Joe is describing how he gets treated on the North Shore and Babst(a white woman, which IS relevant in this critique) decides to use the n-word(pg . 111), ALL WRITTEN OUT, in place of any actual imagery she could’ve used to show the reader instances of covert racism Joe experiences. She is Yale and NYU educated and she is from new Orelans. She was in elite writing programmes that taught her to write better than that and being from the South, she knows the weight that that word carries. So, I know she knew better than to write that word, but she chose to anyway.
4) I’m not a mental health professional, but I’m almost certain any actual psychologist who reads this will be completely floored by the way Tess and Alice and their patients are described. Look, I know there are bad psychologists, they exist and are out there, but this was a bit much. In addition, people go to psychologists to receive help from an impartial, nonjudgmental third party, but Babst did not convey this well and actually played into some really harmful stereotypes about mental illness and what it looks like, rather then ensuring she was depicting these trauma-based or anxiety conditions in a compassionate, authentic way. She obviously did not do any type of research beyond superficial googling.
I do not recommend this book. There are better and more compelling stories out there.
I received a free copy of this book through GrownUpReads, an off-shoot of KidLitExchange. All opinions are my own.
In this dazzling debut about family, home, and grief, C. Morgan Babst takes readers into the heart of Hurricane Katrina and the life of a great city.
As the storm is fast approaching the Louisiana coast, Cora Boisdoré refuses to leave the city. Her parents, Joe Boisdoré, an artist descended from freed slaves who became the city’s preeminent furniture makers, and his white “Uptown” wife, Dr. Tess Eshleman, are forced to evacuate without her, setting off a chain of events that leaves their marriage in shambles and Cora catatonic—the victim or perpetrator of some violence mysterious even to herself.
This mystery is at the center of Babst’s haunting and profound novel. Cora’s sister, Del, returns to New Orleans from the successful life she built in New York City to find her hometown in ruins and her family deeply alienated from one another. As Del attempts to figure out what happened to her sister, she must also reckon with the racial history of the city and the trauma of a disaster that was not, in fact, some random act of God but an avoidable tragedy visited on New Orleans’s most vulnerable citizens. Separately and together, each member of the Boisdoré clan must find the strength to remake home in a city forever changed.
The Floating World is the Katrina story that needed to be told—one with a piercing, unforgettable loveliness and a vivid, intimate understanding of this particular place and its tangled past. – Amazon.com
This book was beautiful from beginning to end. It was a very intimate look at the aftermath of Katrina in a way that no one really discusses. Usually people focus on the damage the hurricane did, but this book focuses on the effect the hurricane had on the people. It was a very emotionally heavy book. I thought the character development was very well done. You learn about these characters through their emotional issues. I also felt the book did a great job making the book feel very realistic.
Unfortunately I did have some dislikes about this book. I felt the writing was a bit everywhere and thus I had some issue following the book and the plot. The pacing was also very weird in spots. The book might have been wrote that way on purpose because it reflects the thinking process of the characters, but for the reader it makes for a very hard read.
Verdict: This is a beautiful book that needs to be read, but the way it was wrote is not my style. I think if you can get into this type of writing then this will be a 5 star for you and if you’re into historical fiction then you’ll love this book.
• Harrowing account of the aftermath of hurricane Katrina. Told through the eyes of one family, we follow what the disaster do to them as individuals and a family; old and new wounds are brought up to the surface, all played out with the ravaged city in the backdrop.
• We follow the crumbling marriage of Joe and Tess; Joe's father Vincent whose dementia (Lewy body disease) is evolving and Joe is not ready to ship his father off for someone else to look after; Cora, their eldest daughter who chose to stay despite the evacuation order, and her history of mental illness; and Del, their youngest daughter who moved away long before hurricane Katrina and is now longing to save what's already been lost. The character cast is diverse and some are easier to sympathize with than others. The major issue is that with all these characters with their own (at times multiple) plot lines begins to sprawl into too many directions. The most interesting direction is of course Cora's; her story is clouded in uncertainties about what really happened during the hurricane. Who is the dead woman she refers to, and why does she say it's her fault? Why is she nearly catatonic, and where does she go during the nights?
• To go with the many plot lines, it doesn't help that the writing is very disjointed. Some pointed out this could be a stylistic choice to portray the trauma in the aftermath of the disaster. Maybe. Perhaps, but it doesn't make for smooth reading when we're jumping between five different POVs and, like I mentioned, incoherent plot lines. Together with the lack of sympathy for some characters stories -- yes, Tess, I'm looking at your ignorant ass here -- it was hard to keep up with the story or care for large parts of it.
As a Louisiana native, I wanted to like this book. I wanted it to draw me in and remind me of the tragedy that happened to one of my favorite cities. None of that happened for me. I found myself bored quite a bit with the characters' endless selfish thoughts. The main family doesn't even get along very well and you can't get a sense of their emotional connection, which seems to be almost non-existent. Yes, each character had a back story, but truthfully none were that interesting. If the author had gone into much more detail about their lives as a family before the storm, one might get a sense of why they all made the choices they did. As it is, I couldn't relate to any of them, despite being from south Louisiana. After about halfway through the story, I just wanted to get through it because I had come that far. Just my opinion, but this book could have been so much better if the writing style had been more interesting.
Disclaimer: I was given a copy of this book in exchange for an honest review. I received no additional compensation.
Travel to the heart and aftermath of Hurricane Katrina with one of New Orleans oldest families, the Boisdorés. One daughter refuses to leave the city and her parents evacuate without her, setting off a cataclysmic chain of events. Another daughter returns to a post-Katrina New Orleans from New York City to find devastation everywhere: her parents' marriage crumbling, her sister's sanity slipping, and the citizens of the city displaced and scattered. I couldn't believe this was a debut novel. The slow personal burn of this fictional family gave me another look at an event I was previously only able to process from graphic news footage.
A daunting undertaking, life in the recent wake of Katrina. It jumped too much between people places and times and 1/3 of the way into the book, still nothing had happened. A woman suffers PTSD, wont talk about experiences. Sometimes the wording is vague -you have stop and consider what the author means, so to me this doesn't flow well. for example, she asks a guys name "are you Troy?" "Cousin". He doesn't answer "i'm his cousin Jim". Or "Cousin, Jim Boot". It's hard to explain, but the conversations are "bumpy". People do talk like that but in life you're looking at expressions, or the events and place surrounding you make discernment easier, or you know a history that clarifies comments. In books conversation like this just doesn't flow. I can't see their faces, know their history and get a picture of the events. Did not like it much and took it back to the library unfinished.
A somber novel of the period after Hurricane Katrina in New Orleans. The story portrays the devastating emotional impact that the physical destruction of a place can have on individuals and, in the case of this book, on the members of one multi-generational family. Occasionally, the details of time and place are a bit difficult to follow because so much of the book takes place in the minds of the characters as they participate in the events of their post-Katrina days. This ambiguity could be intentional on the author’s part, or it could be the result of my trying to continue reading late at night while I should have been sleeping...
Outstanding debut novel. This is a historical fiction novel about Hurricane Katrina and a family. This book focuses on what happened to the people emotionally
This isn't always the easiest book- it touches on racial issues, dysfunctional families, and the destruction wrecked by Hurricane Katrina in so many more ways than physical. Ironically, I read this in the wake of the terrible Hurricanes Harvey, Irma, and Maria, making this even more of a cautionary tale than it might have been a few months ago. Babst has a writing style that forces you to read every word. The Boisdore family is not representative of all New Orleans families but it's got quite a history and a story to tell. Thanks to Netgalley for the ARC. This is not going to be the book for everyone but it's a wonderful piece of literary fiction that will make you think about how we treat one another in the wake of destruction and tragedy.
The Floating World by C. Morgan Babst examines the aftermath of Katrina through the life of a family shattered by the event. While reading it, I thought of Kai T. Erikson’s famed “Everything In Its Path” about the Buffalo Creek Flood that destroyed a small community in West Virginia and his research identifying the collective trauma as post-traumatic stress disorder. In a large part, this book is about that collective trauma and its effect on the Boisdoré family.
There are five members of the family we follow. The oldest is the grandfather Vincent who is suffering from dementia. He had been living in a nursing home until evacuated by his son ahead of the flood. He is often living in his childhood. He was a famed cabinet maker from a long line of skilled artisans. Then there is Joe Boisdoré, the father, and his now estranged wife Dr. Tess Eshleman. He is an artist and she is a psychiatrist. They have two daughters, Dolores (Del) and Cora. Cora is deeply depressed. She refused to leave New Orleans during the evacuation and it was three weeks before her family found her. Her family does not know what happened during those three weeks, but they blame each other for allowing it to happen, which is why Tess and Joe have separated. Del had moved to New York and watched the flood on television, but she is no less touched by the trauma of losing home and a solid foundation.
I felt sympathy for each person on their own, but not together. The mother, Tess, is white and so oblivious to privilege. She thinks Joe is a coward because he was turned away by the Blackwater security forces keeping people out. She has no understanding of how privileged her assessment is. His own grandfather was lynched as the adult Vincent surely saw through the lie of his drowning when he grew older and understood the significance of that kerchief around his neck. A guard mock shoots him with a finger-gun, making the point that he could easily kill him with impunity. Joe understands that, but Tess cannot and cannot forgive. Instead, she sees this tragedy as a way to regain the life she wanted when she was in high school, an infantilist regression to an easier life. She even imagines if she had married a white man, she would have easier children. There is so much that appalls me about Tess, even when I feel empathy for her fears about her daughter Cora.
Cora is going through her own hell, deeply traumatized and confused. Del is trying to be supportive and help her but cannot help feeling impatient and sick of it, too. She has her own life to figure out.
The is a lush beauty to the writing in The Floating World which makes me wish I liked it better. I was often struck by beautiful imagery and rich descriptions, but the story itself felt jumbled and chaotic. Perhaps this was a deliberate choice, mental illness is often chaotic and jumbled and navigating through it can make one feel lost and confused. The story jumps from one person to the next, a fairly common narrative technique. However, the transitions are disjointed and disruptive. They seem designed to unsettle the reader more than further the story. These breaks give the story a hallucinatory feeling at times that may be a deliberate effort to evoke the confusion and alienation of trauma, but for me, was simply annoying. Babst is clearly an excellent stylist, I just wish she did not work so hard to confound her readers.
I received an e-galley of The Floating World from the publisher through NetGalley.
The Floating World at Algonquin C. Morgan Babst author site
This book was intriguing. I debated heavily on 3 vs 4 stars due to the fact that there were many moments in the book that were hard to follow as a reader. For example, references to NOLA landmarks and staples lacked context for nonnatives, character names were used interchangeably, etc. However, these things were forgivable for me due to the rich writing style and unique storyline. I loved how Babst used a fragmented structure to tell the story of broken people in a setting equally as damaged. Most of all, I really appreciate how the psychological states of Cora and Vincent made them unreliable narrators with unique perspectives of the destruction. So much of this story was one of a kind. Babst created a beautiful tribute to her resilient city & I am in awe that it is her first book.