After leaving the Russian homeland, Jess Klassen's Mennonite forebearers carved out an existence in the Saskatchewan prairie, separate from wider society. Jess is sixteen and aware that, despite her father's intellectual leanings, she is in an impossible position--being the homosexual daughter of the president of the Mennonite college. She hits the road in search of a language and the freedom to speak it. On the train to Winnipeg she is found by Freya, Icelandic princess of her dreams. Halfsteinn, reliable fisherman and expert in the fine art of handrolling cigarettes, enters Jess' life, helping her escape emotional captivity. Jess runs further and faster, embracing pot-head, videogame-playing housemates in the world away from her Mennonite being. After visiting the bed of every available (or reasonably available) woman in her small university town, she meets Shea. Jess can barely utter the name--afraid of the word, the woman, the possibility, and her own past. Moving forward, Jess makes her move back.
There's something beautiful about immersing yourself in a book that will most likely never be on Oprah's book Club, a book that won't be read by millions, or become a classic. There is a certain intimacy that goes along with a book like this.
I found this book in a city a thousand miles from home, in a random bookstore in that city's downtown. By chance my finger fell upon the spine of this book and I knew I wasn't going to leave without it. Something about the cover and my surroundings made it impossible for me to be without this book.
I began this book on my plane ride back home. It felt as though I had bought something that was a true memento from the place I had visited. The second I sank my teeth into this book I was hooked. It's one of those books that is easy to read, yet meaningful in many ways. And when the story was over, I realized that possibly no one in my entire state had read this book, that I could be the sole owner and reader of Somewhere Else in my state. And there is something beautiful about that. And for this reason I feel a certain connection to this book.
I don't normally read fiction but this was written by a friend.
I thought it was fantastic. I'm biased because of acquaintance, because I love stories with gay protagonists, and simply because the story is partially set in my newly adopted home of Winnipeg.
I read it in 2 days, it flowed so well. There were times I reread sentences, amazed at how well they were written.
I think it has inspired me to pick up another piece of fiction.
Books about queer Mennonites are few and far between, so I was interested to read Somewhere Else. I found this novel very fragmentary, at times this was a bit confusing and almost seemed sloppy. However, I think that it can also be read as a representation of the narrator Jess's fragmented identity as she is torn between her lesbian identity and her Mennonite family. The book is also full of textual fragments: quotes from authors and theorists, scripture passages, and poetry that Jess stumbles upon and writes as she tries to come to terms with her identity. Like many Canadian novels, Somewhere Else also has a strong sense of place which provides a bit of stability within the fragmentation. While intriguing, this book did not capture me in the way that I hoped, but I think I might appreciate it more if I reread it at some point.
As a lesbian who was raised Mennonite, I often felt lost and incredibly angry. On one of these particularly bad days I typed in "lesbian mennonite" into youtube, in hopes of finding SOMEONE else like myself. Instead I found "Somewhere Else". The first video to come up was a piece about a Canadian writer who wrote a little book that would soon become one of the most heart capturing books I'd ever read. It's sad most people will never read this book. It is after all a somewhat female, lesbian, mennonite version of Catcher in the Rye. I mean, who wouldn't want to read that? Find a way to get your hands on this book and read it.
Beautiful. Jan Guenther Braun's writing was reminiscent of Miriam Towes but more... raw? At times it was hard to follow, with Jess's life zooming forward and backward, but her poetic self-reflection meant it didn't matter. It was comforting to read in to the mind of someone who spends as much time in their head as I do. The pages are bent and many passages are underlined, this book looks worn - a sure sign that you should pick it up.
I love a roman à clef, ESPECIALLY with so many connections to home (city, province and country). I was also happy that I immediately knew how to pronounce the word "verenikje" (thank you, Uke. roots).