A compelling, haunting novel about a man experiencing gaps in time, and the pain of living inside an anxious mind.
Felix wakes up one day to find himself with a girlfriend he doesn’t recognize, their life together that is unfamiliar. A novel, with his name on the cover, that he doesn’t remember writing. He’s been losing time since university. Sometimes these gaps are minutes, sometimes months. But now he begins experiencing flashbacks, moments where he gets a glimpse of an unsettling future. He will do anything necessary to keep the people he loves safe . . .
Hummingbird is a haunting, powerful novel, told in unadorned language that expresses with clarity the pain of living inside a disturbed mind. Like Anakana Schofield’s ground-breaking Martin John, Hummingbird is at times uncomfortable, but written with deep compassion and a sense of urgency.
Very dark. Comically depressing, and then just depressing. Enjoyable but at points very difficult to read, because of the emotions and the madness. It's hard not to read this and think how, if things had gone bad for me, I would be in the same state as the main character of the book. A surprisingly apt description of madness.
Very well written. Not literary and pretentious, and not bland best seller lite. The prose flows. The plot meanders quite a bit, without purpose, but then finds a groove.
The main character often blanks out, losing days of life. He wakes up to things, confused as to how he got there. Which is a great way to describe the existencial angst of life.
A good book. I'm curious enough to see what the author's other books are like. Given that, as I write this review, the book.only has 4 ratings, I'm assuming he's a bit of an obscure Canadian writer at this point.
This book is an excellent delve into the troubled mind of someone struggling with mental health issues without support or understanding of what may be wrong. The easiest for me to describe this book's experience is severe anxiety on steroids.
I was unable to finish it as I found it began triggering my own anxiety, but am appreciative of the depth of thought this book has the potential to provide.
3.5? That was....unsettling. It's uncomfortable to read a book from a POV that is untethered to reality, to inhabit that and experience the world that way. Very compelling, and Felix really grew on me (I didn't start looking him, per se, but he did become a more sympathetic character). I think I'll be thinking about this book for a while. But I didn't love it. I think there are serious pacing issues, and there's a weird balance of "this character has a bizarre view towards women" and "the women in this book are flat". Like probably the women characters are so flat because of the character's view of women. But I'm not so convinced, if that makes sense?