”Big Angel was late to his own mother’s funeral.
“He tossed in his bed, the sheets catching his feet in a tangle. Sweat ticked his sides as he realized what was happening. The sun was up – it was bright through his eyelids. The burning pink world. Everybody else would be there before him. No. Not this. Not today. He struggled to rise.”
”Every morning since his diagnosis, he had the same thoughts. They were his alarm clock.
How could a man out of time repair all that was broken? And on this morning, as he was awakening to these worries, cursed by the light, cursed in every way by time, betrayed by his exhausted body while his mind raged, he was started to find his father’s ghost sitting beside him on the bed.”
Family gathers for the funeral, and then again for Big Angel’s birthday on the following day. An extended family including Big Angel’s half-brother, Little Angel, a child of his father’s and a different mother, cousins, Aunts, Uncles and all of the newest members.
There is the type of humour you’ll find in family gatherings, the subtle, or not so subtle ways that family has of putting you in your place, of reminding you of where you come from and who you are. Still, all the time there is that bond, that love that is always there, shining through even in those moments of not-so-gentle teasing. The men boasting amongst themselves, but becoming more reflective when alone, and when they are with their women.
Then there is the one that is missing, whose absence is felt more than if he were present. Surely he will not stay away, surely this is a time when he will return to his family, and then, like the parable of the prodigal son, the feast will be a joyous one, an embracing of their differences, as well.
”This is the prize: to realize, at the end, that every minute was worth fighting for with every ounce of blood and fire.”
”So you fill your hours with hubbub. Like now. The house seemed to be bulging elastically like an old cartoon—music and dust flying out through the gaping junctures of the bouncing, jiving walls.
“Big Angel surveyed his domain.”
Sorrow. The sorrow of losing loved ones, the sorrow of facing the end of life. Sorrow, so well balanced in this story by the joys of life, the joys of love. Family. The good, the bad, the ugly, at the end we are still family. Sometimes, things happen and we’d like to change that, CTRL-ALT-DEL people from our lives, but it isn’t that easy with family. America / Americans and becoming Americans, a process, much like life. We are all always becoming, becoming something different from what we were, and hopefully a better version, without leaving our “old” selves behind. And there is the humour, of course, it’s a family gathered together, and stories are told, memories are shared. Stories that are teasing, meant to embarrass, in the way which families manage to excel, but shared with love.
”There is a minute in the day, a minute for everyone, though most everyone is too distracted to notice its arrival. A minute of gifts coming from the world like birthday presents. A minute given to every day that seems to create a golden bubble available to everyone.”
There is a moment in this book, nearing the end, that felt like that to me, a present. Well, more than one moment, but one between Big Angel and Ookie that stood out from the rest and melted my heart.
Published 6 MAR 2018
Many thanks for the ARC provided by Little, Brown and Company