“No more tricks, no more abracadabra, no more misdirection or uncertainty, no more seeing things one way when most people saw them another.”
“My mother didn’t mention him, I didn’t mention him, but there he sat in the room with us.”
“…she didn’t believe in blank pages…”
Right now, Chloe Aridjis’s The Shadow of the Object sits at the very top of my Booker rankings; it’s absolutely fantastic. The novel itself is a bit of shadow puppetry, and the light play and storytelling Aridjis employs in this novel of grief and distance, and change is absolute magic.
The novel opens with Flora visiting her mom and stepdad after three long years. She is bitten badly by the family dog and spends much of her time in Mexico in the hospital. There, she meets Wilhemina, a German collector of magical things and toys. Each night, she sits with Wilhemina. They share stories. They share magic.
Wilhemina talks about how her adult son, still in England, is still waiting for his “swerve.” This approach to life is one that grabs Flora and holds fast. She becomes obsessed with Wilhemina, the story telling, and the magic lantern show holds.
What unfolds is a story of loss, grief, and growing up. One of being unmoored and set adrift. One of a father who goes out to play chess and never comes home, and the family that pretends to be over it. One of a mother who cares more for her objects than her child. One of animals that bite. The story is told in the shadows of magic and the polish of silver.
If you’re keeping track of my Christmas bits, this novel features a slide for the lantern of a Christmas pudding that turns into a monster.
Read this novel.
A Girl Named Tommi 