Heidi Sopinka
Autor(a) de The Dictionary of Animal Languages
About the Author
Image credit: Arden Wray
Obras por Heidi Sopinka
Etiquetado
Conhecimento Comum
- Data de nascimento
- 20th century
- Sexo
- female
- Nacionalidade
- Canada
- País (no mapa)
- Canada
- Locais de residência
- Toronto, Ontario, Canada
- Ocupações
- journalist
Founder, designer House Atelier (clothing)
Helicopter pilot
Membros
Discussions
The Dictionary of Animal Languages by Heidi Sopinka - Aug 2019 LTER em Reviews of Early Reviewers Books (Outubro 2019)
Críticas
Listas
Prémios
Estatísticas
- Obras
- 3
- Membros
- 97
- Popularidade
- #194,532
- Avaliação
- 3.2
- Críticas
- 21
- ISBN
- 23
- Línguas
- 1
- Marcado como favorito
- 1
If one enjoys the style, the weaknesses of the book can understandably be overlooked. The titular project of the book's protagonist - the dictionary of animal languages - which is her overriding obsession for 50 years of life, is pretty sketchily described. How do you keep notebooks of animal vocalizations? How do you describe them? How are these deciphered and organized into some sort of dictionary? Chapters of the book are named for animals and given italicized lines from what could be the notebooks, but often they focus on appearances rather than "languages", as in: Well, ok, but if that's indicative of the notebooks, I understand why the museum conservatory, which is presented as the bad guys in the novel for cutting funding and other sins (after decades of funding her research! That's gratitude), doesn't really know what to do with this.
Ivory, our protagonist, had a serious flame as a young woman, a painter named Lev. He's a dark, mysterious, charismatic Russian. Women find him irresistible, being a dark mysterious Russian and all. If I recall correctly, he's even compared to Rasputin. We don't learn too much about Lev's character or inner world, or why he's so into her, but he's a dark star around which Ivory feels powerless not to orbit. The relationship feels unconvincing, certainly the depths of intensity it reaches feel unconvincing, even if it is partly during wartime, which can provide intensity where it wouldn't otherwise exist.
The front cover flap teases a shocking revelation: a grandchild! Despite Ivory "never having had a child of her own." First, this is pretty irrelevant to the novel. A letter informing Ivory of the grandchild is brought up on the first few pages, then ignored until close to the novel's end, and the grandchild's existence really doesn't matter, definitely not to a measure justifying the tease. Secondly, this is seriously problematic. We learn finally that Ivory did indeed give birth to a child, but she was told it died when in fact the child was given for adoption, evidently a policy for births to unmarried women at this hospital at the time. Does this mean Ivory really "never had a child"? Obviously she did. Does the qualifier "of her own" rescue the claim of the front cover flap? I don't think I'm inclined to think so; it's a lie, essentially. I don't like book descriptions lying to me.
If the novel's writing style doesn't work for you, and the book's plot is frustrating, there isn't a whole lot here to enjoy.… (mais)