The Wondrous and Tragic Life of Ivan and Ivana

The Wondrous and Tragic Life of Ivan and Ivana, by Maryse Condé, translated by Richard Philcox, ©2020, World Editions

Time for a trip into a wondrous life. Get ready for a look at a tragic life. Get them twinned together in one package as I jump into The Wondrous and Tragic Life of Ivan and Ivana by Maryse Condé, as translated by Richard Philcox. Not only do I have a book review for you, but today is publication day (in the US) for this Winner of the 2018 Alternative Nobel Prize in literature.

The Wondrous and Tragic Life of Ivan and Ivana

Ivan and Ivana are twins born in Guadeloupe. While all twins tend to have a preternatural bond, the link between Ivan and Ivana seems stronger than most. Joined in the womb, they struggle to separate in life, even as the world pushes them in different directions. 

Ivan is the first born, headstrong, and a rebel in their small town on the island nation. Ivana on the other hand is smart, kind, and loved by all. Their mother looks for ways to set them both on the best path, which isn't always easy. Her solution—to send them to their erstwhile father, whom they have never met, in faraway Mali. A solution that neither of the twins embraces, but finally acquiesces to, to please their mother. 

While life in Guadeloupe has its challenges—poverty, racism, classicism—it doesn't get any better on Mali's shores at their father's side. Their former experiences are mirrored in this new setting. Ivan is dropped into a corrupt military, and again finds himself friendless, but for his sister. In contrast, Ivana works in an orphanage helping the least fortunate, at the same time as building a strong bond with her father and others in their new community. While outsiders don't understand their deep bond, it remains unshakable. At times, almost illicit. 

As the narrator continues to spin the tale, we see brushes with terrorism, anti-immigration sentiments, and the struggle to escape ingrained poverty. Where Ivan and Ivana seem destined for different paths along these continuum, they remain inexplicably linked. They cannot live with each other, but cannot live apart, and time just seems to make this bond worse for both of them. Location doesn't seem to have a hope to change the outcome. 

Novel or Social Commentary?

So why does Condé use a third person narrative? It gives an omniscient feel to the events, as we oversee the struggles of the fated twins. In that voice, she has the ability to point out the bleak world that Ivan traverses and contrast it to the more hopeful Ivana. Can we have one without the other? The struggle we see the twins grapple with suggests the difficulty in that. The world still holds a tragic divide between the haves and have nots and that divide continues to have the power to destroy lives. 

Are the twins destined for destruction due to their entwined lives? Is the world? Can we separate these disparate halves to see one or the other survive or do we need to look closer at the reasons behind their struggles—the world's struggles—and work at resolving its woes for the better of all? It would seem so, but the question becomes how. 

There is a depth to the novel that Condé offers us. While it is a work of fiction, she has seen firsthand many of the scenes depicted in her book. Maybe we should take a moment to see how we can learn from her experiences. As the world suffers through a pandemic that is sweeping the globe and touching everyone, regardless of race, education, or economic class, perhaps now is the moment to break down some of those barriers. For aren't we all in this Wondrous and Tragic Life together?

Real Life

REAL LIFE: A Blog Tour with World Editions

Real Life by Adeline Dieudonné, Translated by Roland Glasser ©2019, World Editions

"At home there are four bedrooms: one for her, one for her little brother Sam, one for her parents, and one for the carcasses."

This is where Real Life starts. At least that is where the story begins in Adeline Dieudonné's stunning debut novel. And funny enough, it wasn't until I reached the end of the book that I noticed that the main protaganist in Real Life doesn't have a name. The narrative is written in first person, thus remains nameless throughout the book. This is telling, as her voice is poignant to the reader, but silent in her real life. Make no mistake though. She orchestrates her outward silence, all while working hard to create a better life for the only person she truly cares about—Sam. But silence comes with a cost.

Adeline Dieudonné

It is not only the narrator who remains nameless in Dieudonné's novel. Her weak and ineffectual mother is referred to simply as an amoeba; spineless and without form or creativity. Her father—a raging, brute of a man intent on pain—also gets no additional title. Even neighbours whom she forms a loose bond with only get the titles of Feather Girl and Champion. They are both adrift in their lives and only represent a means to a way out; through idyllically floating above life or dabbling in sexual escape.

Aside from Sam, the only other characters who earn titles are Monica, Professor Pavlović and his wife Yael.

Names. What do they mean and represent? 

For our narrator, she names things she loves and respects the most; her once innocent brother, a neighbour who gives her the initial spark to fight to change her life, her teacher who gives her the tools to make a difference, and his wife whose strength to stand up to violence—and the price she paid for it—all represent the best of who she wants to be. Those names are hard-earned and deserving in that vein of thought. Conversely, the decided lack of labels represent the holes our narrator sees herself needing to climb out of.

Dieudonné paints a world where family relationships are complicated, violence is endemic, and the choices we make shape everything. Make the right choice and rise above the rabble or, conversely, be destined to mediocrity or worse. Education is key. As soon as Monica's worth is spent—she gives the narrator the key to escape with the story of Marie Curie—she disappears from the story. Her role is noteworthy though, as Monica's spark, her inspiration, begins the possibility of going back and changing what the future might look like. The keys are in maintaining your innocence (Sam), hard work (Professor Pavlović), dedication (Yael), and a little insight (all herself), that she better understands the path. The trick is knowing which path to take and which parts should remain in place. Sometimes a life or death decision.

Of course, that is only my take on the book. I tried not to let in too many spoilers, but just know that I enjoyed it in its darkness and light, its violence and redemption. I happen to know that a few other people have read the book too and have insight on Real Life. Time for some blog hopping to visit the other bloggers taking part in the World Editions blog tour! If you get the chance, make sure to see what Jamie Wong, Debi Lantzer, Meredith Smith, and Kayla Whitter think of Real Life.

Even better, grab a copy yourself and let me know what YOU think.

A Devil Comes to Town

A Devil Comes to Town 

by Paolo Maurensig
Translated by Anne Milano Appel

Excerpt read to you by Katherine Krige

Reading from pages 21-23 

World Editions is hosting a page-a-day Read Along of Paolo Maurensig's newest novel A Devil Comes to Town. I was asked to contribute a reading of his book as well.

Listen along, as illustrious readers, including Paolo himself, spin the tale of a devil who arrives in a town full of writers, intent on shaking up the Swiss village's harmony. I join other authors, publishers, booksellers, and more, as we work through Paolo's literary thriller page by page.

It's a beautiful day for a dark tale of narcissism, vainglory, and our inextinguishable thirst for stories. Care for a listen?

Boekenweek Part 2: You Have Me to Love

You Have Me to Love by Jaap Robben, Translated by David Doherty, © 2014, World Editions

Grief is a familiar topic for me. So when I read the description of 'You Have Me to Love' by Jaap Robben, the theme spoke to me.

"On a remote island somewhere in the North Atlantic, a nine-year-old boy looks on helplessly as his father is swept out to sea. Consumed by guilt and paralyzed by his mother's frantic grief, Mikael cannot bring himself to tell the truth about what happened. As the pair struggle to restore the fragile balance of their isolated lives, the young widow starts to demand the impossible of her only son."

A woman distraught over the loss of her husband is relatable. Hearing the story from her son's perspective is intriguing. Delving into her complicated and prolonged grief is disturbing, but worth exploring with the help of Robben's powerful prose. How does anyone handle someone stuck in their bereavement, especially when you have your own loss to process and understand? That is Mikael's challenge, and he is only 9 years old when his father drowns. Plus, he lives on an isolated island with no other support at his disposal to help either himself or his grieving mother. It sounds like a recipe for disaster.

While the subject matter is challenging, Robben tackles the novel with an unexpected beauty. Guilt is a familiar emotion in grief and Mikael struggles with it, especially as he is the only witness to his father's death. As the years pass, he tries to embrace love and acceptance once more, only to be confronted by his mother's inability to process her own grief. Add to that the spectre of loneliness—another component of bereavement—and compound it with their remote island home. How is one to find hope? Readers can only pray that Mikael can find the strength and maturity to combat his mother's impossible demands. To say anything more, would spoil the plot for readers eager to dive into Robben's highly-acclaimed novel.

The book is currently being adapted into an English-language film.

Boekenweek

Jaap Robben

'You Have Me to Love' is the second novel I had the pleasure of reading for Boekenweek. What a week to celebrate; a festival of literature for 10 days! I choose to read Thirty Days and You Have Me to Love to explore both a Belgian (Verbeke) and Dutch (Robben) author—Belgium and the Netherlands being the two main host countries of Boekenweek.

While Verbeke's novel was excellent, Robben's perfectly touched on this year's theme—The Mother The Woman. The blurred lines between those roles are a stark part of Robben's engaging narrative. As a woman, where do the lines start and end in motherhood? You might want to check out more books from this year's Boekenweek theme to help figure that out.

World Editions also provides more information about Boekenweek and the many tours, readings, and festivals going on in North America from March 23-31, 2019. They are proud supporters of high-quality English literature on a world scale, with an affinity for their European and, more specifically, their Dutch roots. Care to read more of their books? World Editions can help.

Boekenweek: Thirty Days

Thirty Days, by Annelies Verbeke, Translated by Liz Waters © 2015, World Editions

The back cover of Thirty Days introduces the story of our main character—"Alphonse is a Senegalese immigrant who uproots his life in Brussels to become a handyman in rural Flanders." This is but the tip of the iceberg.

Annelies Verbeke creates a character loved by most of the people he meets in Thirty Days. Alphonse has depth, sensitivity, and a thoughtfulness borne from a caring, if distant, mother. His travels around the world help too. But while most people like and open up to Alphonse as soon as they meet him, that experience isn't universal. There are still those who have issue with him. That issue stems directly from the colour of his skin.

Thirty Days is a timely novel that scratches beneath the glossy veneer of civilization. Refugees are everywhere today and their treatment isn't always civil. While Verbeke shows us the ugly image of refugee camps on the fringes of Flanders, the presence of refugees is not exclusive to Europe. Plenty of displaced people can be found in Canada as well. Their plight is a global issue. And while many wish the problem (and people) would disappear, it would seem not enough people do their part to ease this crisis.

As Alphonse is an immigrant himself, he cannot ignore the pain of displaced people. He knows all too well of leaving family behind and the struggle to find a place to call home. Even as he is welcomed on the surface by neighbours and clients, Alphonse still comes across racism and anger on a regular basis. The obvious reactions less painful and confusing than the subtle words and actions from people closer to him. All Alphonse wants is to be loved and to belong. A noble goal for all, I believe. One that is close to Verbeke's heart and I think that she illuminates beautifully in her novel.

Boekenweek

One of the exciting parts for me about reading Thirty Days is that it is part of Boekenweek. Boekenweek is a week-long celebration of books in the Netherlands and Belgium. This year, those celebrations have spilled over into North America. So not only was I fortunate enough to read Thirty Days, but I am also taking part in the North American Blog Tour celebrating Dutch and Flemish authors.

From March 23rd to April 1st, bloggers across the continent are writing reviews, hosting Q&As, and offering book giveaways for many of World Editions featured authors. A few of those authors, including Annelies Verbeke, are even touring the United States, attending festivals and talks about their novels and the themes within them. If you get a chance, I'm sure those events would be enlightening, especially Annelies' take on racism and refugee issues inherent in today's world.

Thank you to World Editions for including me in the tour. If you get the chance, take the time to visit some of the other bloggers on the tour to see their takes on the Boekenweek novels. I plan to!