We Need to Talk About Kevin by Lionel Shriver

When both Long-Suffering Sister and my sister-in-law (hmm...will have to think of a name for her too) recommended this book, I was very keen to try it. Both are so very different that if they both liked it, I assumed it must be good.

We Need to Talk About Kevin is written as a series of letters from the mother of a teenager who has carried out a Columbine-style shooting to her former husband. Eva is the mother of the Kevin of the title. She writes to his father to tell him about the aftermath of the shooting, the world’s reaction to it and how she has been dealing with it. She reflects on why she made the decision to have Kevin, her inability to bond with him and on the impact it had on their relationship.

I have to say, after the initial excitement, I got rather fed up of this book at first. I made numerous threats to Long Suffering Sister for encouraging me to read such a long-winded, boring book. In the end I had to take my words back.

Shriver effectively conjures up Eva through her letters – irritating, self-pitying, cynical, self-absorbed, navel-gazing way too much in the way of affluent people who have had an easy life and need to think up things to tell therapists they don’t need. You start off with this book, really not liking Eva very much. The book goes on in this vein for a very long time. I lost patience a number of times and was close to giving up on this book a number of times. I am glad I didn’t.

Eva’s letter also effectively describe an almost Damien-(from Omen)-like little boy who turns into a terrifying young man with almost no redeeming qualities. Every time there is some chance that Eva has gotten through to Kevin, he reverts to type as the hostile, manipulative teenager. There were times when he slightly less than convincing – Shriver’s take on the way Kevin dresses (everything tight and shrunken) jars with me - a minor thing, but one which felt wrong each time it was mentioned. Also, the fact that he is almost always so bad with no obvious reason, is hard to understand.

Shriver admits in the afterward of the book, that the character of Eva is partially an exploration of her own journey towards the decision not to have children. Another key theme is the old nature versus nurture debate – is Kevin born bad? Is Eva’s inability to bond with him the culprit? Is society at fault?

At times the book rambles all over the shop – Eva’s childhood and relationship with her husband, their marriage, her travels around the world, the impact of a child on her life, the multiple anxieties that come with being a parent, her thoughts on America, the world and just about everything. At times this feels like a real insight into her character, at other times you think, okay – just get on with it, when is something going to happen? The long, slow ratching up of tension and misery and the drip-drip nature of the way the letters reveal what has happened perhaps means that the ending of the book is all the more effective.

I found the pay off for my patience with the book in the last tenth of it. You know what is coming and yet the denouement is shocking and painful and leaves you reeling with more questions than answers about the cause of what happens.

If you really don’t have the patience for such a long, rambling (475 page) book, then Jonathan Trigell’s Boy A is a comparable book (my review here) which is far shorter and based partially on the Jamie Bulgar murder case and also a good read.

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The Shadow of the Wind by Carlos Ruiz Zafón

The Shadow of the Wind is the story of ten your old Daniel, son of a gentle bookseller in 1945 Barcelona – how many books have you come across set in 1945 Barcelona? Certainly had me intrigued.

On Daniel’s tenth birthday his father takes him to a secret library hidden underneath the city where he is allowed o choose one book. He chooses a little known title by a virtually unknown author – “The Shadow of the Wind by Julian Carax.

The book enchants him and the mystery of the author haunts him and over the years Daniel finds that he is not the only one interested in the book and that the story of the author’s life is far more intriguing and horrifying than he could imagine.

Set in post-Spanish civil war Barcelona, this book spans just about every genre you can think of – gothic horror, murder mystery, thriller, comedy and romance. It weaves a number of stories – from that of the loss of Daniels mother and the grief of his father, to those of the wonderfully colourful characters in their neighbourhood. Then there is Daniel’s love story (two of them actually), the mystery of Carax, the strange matter of the homeless man Daniel’s father employs – Fermin and a cast of interesting characters from all over Barcelona.

The book is translated very smoothly from the Spanish, without feeling that you have lost something or that it is stilted in any way. The characters in this book are a treat – General Franco’s brutal police men, Daniel’s gentle, dreamy father, the kind cross-dressing neighbourhood watchmaker, an abbey full of mischievous old people, and the wonderful Fermín Romero de Torres. The book is almost worth reading for this one character alone – wistful, frightened, flamboyant and very, very funny.

My only criticism would be that with so much happening in the book and the plot within the plot, the book was confusing in places and I had to back track a little to keep tabs on what was happening. Otherwise, this book was one I thoroughly enjoyed for it's colour, wit and intelligence and would recommend to others (the part with the nuns and mischievous old people alone is worth the read).

Kooky Little Sis has “The Prince of Mist” by the same author, so we will be swapping and I am on the lookout to the prequel to this book “The Angel's Game”.

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