"If we’re lucky, art can help us through our wolfishness."* And it does, indeed, help Virginia get through her wolfishness. As does her sister, Vanessa. And the painting of Bloomsberry. What's this? A children's book about Virginia Woolf? But we all know how THAT story ends. And, yet,
The epigraph to Ru is the reader's first clue that this novel embraces complexity. 2009; Random House Canada, 2012 (English) The reader learns that the word, in French, means a small stream, literally (and, figuratively, a flow -- of tears, blood or memory). Whereas, in Vietnamese, 'ru' means
To begin, Annabel Lyon turns to books. You know you're in the hands of a writer who truly loves storytelling when that happens, right? Sure, she's making a point: "literary fiction is uniquely poised to perform an important ethical function in our lives -- namely to teach us compassion". But
The turkeys, Steve Gauley, a young girl: drownings. (In my memory of this story, only one of these stood out: wrongly, as it turned out.) Re-reading "Miles City, Montana" reveals the intricate layering of Alice Munro's stories, the multiple threats of drowning and its actual occurrence. One. Then the next.
Annabel Lyon says that she knew, almost immediately upon beginning to write The Golden Mean, that she would be writing the other half of its story. That was "a very male book...all male characters...about warfare and public life and politics and rationality [and] science, all the things that Aristotle represented".*
