Forgiveness

Forgiveness by Mark Sakamoto
My rating: 5 of 5 stars

The backbone of this memoir is the alternating stories of Mark Sakamoto's grandparents. On his mother's side, his grandfather, Frank, was a young Canadian soldier who miraculously survived years in prisoner camps in Japan. On his father's side, his grandmother, Mitsue, and her family were forced out of their urban Vancouver homes by a racist government and moved to rural Alberta to work as farm laborers in deplorable conditions.

The true heart of this story is not the tragedies endured, but the markable grace and understanding shown by both Frank and Mitsue. Instead of holding on to bitterness and anger, they chose hope and forgiveness. They chose the more difficult path of moving on instead of living in the past. They became fast friends, and understood each other, without the need to compare or explain their pasts. "Breaking down is the easy part. Anyone, at any time, can break down. The act of coming together again is what makes a hero. Moving on, with an open heart, seems, at times, impossible. But it's not."

I love what Mark writes at the end to his grandparents: "You both fought for your country, your dignity, and your lives. Your victory was not that you lived. Your victory was in the way you both went on to live your lives. You refused to be defined by those most injurious of years. You did not dwell there. You had the strength to move on with hope and optimism. You filled your hearts with faith and forgiveness. You passed that on. Thank God you passed that on." The verse that Frank held to in the prison camp, when he knew he was being rescue, was Mark 11:25: "And when you stand praying, if you hold anything against anyone, forgive him, so that your Father in heaven may forgive you your sins."

The other part of this book that sneaks up on you at the end is the complicated relationship between Mark and his mother. After her death from addiction complications, Mark was wracked with guilt and fear - could he have done for his mom? Did he abandon her by moving on with his life, and away from the turmoil that her life became? In the end, what pulled him out of the fog was being reminded of where he came from - of the legacy his grandparents began of forgiveness, not just of others but of your own past self. In the end, his mother's death was not his fault, and Mark deserved to do as he had advised others at her funeral, to "remember their delight, not their sorrow, to let those memories - those delights - be her final resting place."

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Station Eleven

Station Eleven by Emily St. John Mandel
My rating: 5 of 5 stars

SPOILERS AHEAD

Station Eleven is a pandemic-based post-apocalypse told in alternating storylines that jump around in time from before and after the pandemic. Some of them are connected, others seem unrelated, but they all come together in the end to tell one complete story of how humanity not just survives the collapse of the world as we know it, but persists to build meaningful lives and community again. It's a story of loss and despair, and also about hope.

Arthur is a fascinating character, and one who truly ties the book together in more ways than one. His journey in life was ironic - he wanted to leave his small town because he was tired of everyone knowing who he was. The lack of anonymity was stifling. In Toronto, he became one of a million faces, and it was freeing, but eventually, his call to acting and fame put him back in the same boat, where he couldn't go anywhere without someone recognizing him, but on an even greater scale than in his youth. In some ways, he delighted in his fame, but by the end of his life, I think he realized that the fleeting nature of fame was lacking the true connection of family and friends.

Both Arthur and Jeevan, the EMT who tries to saves him, talk about wanting to make a difference in life. Even though Jeevan couldn't save Arthur, that moment on the stage with him made him feel his true calling - trying to physical heal and save people. He desired to become an essential person, and after the pandemic, he made himself useful - essential, - by training as a medic/doctor/healer in the new world. He married, started a family, and was finally and truly at peace. Arthur never achieved his peace, but that last day, he at least figured out what it was: giving away his money to people who need it, and spending every day with his son. Oh, how different his son's life would have been if he had been raised by his father instead of his mother.

I really loved Kirsten - she's not perfect, but a deeply caring person. The orchestra itself becomes a new family - from their interviews, many of their stories are the same - they wandered, until they found the orchestra; or they stayed, until the orchestra found them. The orchestra meant friends, family, and a safe space. They were trying to figure out a new way to live, and what is life if you can't adventure and create art? As was written on the first caravan: "Because survival is insufficient."

Kirsten and the Prophet's obsessions with Doctor Eleven were oddly parallel, but the appeal was evident. It was a fantasy world when they first read it, but over time, it soaked into their subconsciousness. Just as the refugees of Station Eleven were in a new world, and some just wanted to go back, everyone left on earth was basically stranded in a new world, where they COULDN'T go back. Doctor Eleven stands at the edge of the world and says, we need to make the best of the world we are living in because there are no other options. Looking to the past won't do us any good.

I loved the ending, when you could tell all the storylines were starting to converge at the airport. There is Clark, Arthur's longtime friend, who had been living at the airport since the pandemic, and was the one person who could tie everything together. And then there are Kirsten and the Orchestra who headed there to find their friends, followed by the Prophet and his men. During the final conflict, between Kirsten and the Prophet, it seems almost fitting that it was an unsuspected child who ended things for good.

The Prophet had developed a following partially based on fear, once they had accumulated so many guns, but for the most part, the people following him just wanted something to believe in. They wanted something to make SENSE again after their world was torn apart, and here was this man who seemed to have it all together. The Prophet seemed to know all the answers, and provided them reassurances that their life had purpose (they survived because they were good), as well as peace and safety, providing they followed his rules and let him do whatever he wanted. The boy who ended up killing the prophet was someone who didn't CHOOSE to follow him, he was just picked up by them/born into it, and he was never happy there. His conversation with Sayid, that their way was wrong, that there was better way of life, seemed to have a huge impact on him. I'm just sad that he chose to end everything, I'm sure out of guilt for all the things they'd done. As Kirsten mentions, killing someone changes you for good, but that doesn't mean you can't move on and have a good, fulfilling life.

Most of all, I love that this book ends with hope. Despite all the terrible things that have happened, the billions of people dead, the horrible things that happened on the road, there is literally light on the horizon, and Kirsten and the others are excited to see what the future holds in this new world. As am I. The world can be a dark place, but together, we can make a different and change the world into something better.

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The Boat People

The Boat People by Sharon Bala
My rating: 5 of 5 stars

Wow, what an emotional, impactful, culturally-relevant book. This is a heart-wrenching look at the atrocities of war and radical racism around the world, specifically during the Sri Lankan Civil War, and the process and rationale by which nations and their people choose whom they will and will not save from the punishment that awaits refugees who are returned to their country of persecution. It was eye opening to see how far countries will go in the name of "protection" - detaining refugees indefinitely, separating father from son. But really, who are the ones in need of protection? No one willingly leaves behind their whole lives, their families, all of their possessions, unless their lives are truly at stake.

And as Grace's mom, Kumi, repeatedly tells her, such racial stereotyping and persecution has happened before, and it's happening again now: "In another time and place, we were those people." The internment of people of Japanese decent in both Canada and the US during World War II, along with the theft of their property, their dignity, and their lives, was a travesty. The scale of it was shocking and confounding even to those involved. Kumi says, "How could it happen? ...Certain people felt too rooted, too comfortable. They took it for granted that they deserved to be here more than us. Entitlement closed their hearts."

Grace's perspective has a lot of unique aspects to it: she's a 3rd generation child of Japanese immigrants, but raised to be a Canadian, and only recently is starting to hear the horror stories of her mom and grandparents' past. Her opinions and rulings are shaped largely by her fear of what might happen were she to let someone dangerous in. Of course, the person fueling those fears is her mentor, a right wing government official who placed her in the role of adjudicator, likely so he could assert more influence over the refugee board. Much of the time, I wanted to shake Grace for not having more compassion or sympathy for those in front of her, but I do understand the pressure such a position would cause, and how murky the situation might seem with little to no absolute evidence.

Priya is also in a unique situation: she is Tamil, like the refugees, and as a law student gets roped into working as one of their lawyers, but initially, it seems like she has very little in common with her clients. It's only over time, as she gets to know both them and the secrets of her own family, that Priya realizes how much they have in common. Their story could have been her story. In her conversations with Charlie, and with her uncle, Priya comes to realize that the line between terrorist and coerced prisoner isn't clear at all. What wouldn't you do to protect your family, your child, your own life? In her author's note, Bala says, "How is personal morality maintained in the face of certain death? ...Mahindan is a fictional character, of course, but sometimes I think he is me, or the person I might have become if fate had been different."

That leads us to Mahindan. A man who has had an unfathomably difficult life, and who has definitely done questionable things in the name of survival. My heart breaks for him and his son Sellian, for all they lost: the rest of their family, their home, their livelihood, their morals, their safety, their freedom, their choice. It was a fight for survival, and as far as the last page of the book goes, the jury is still out. As for me, I would personally sit on the side of compassion and forgiveness. This book definitely has some difficult parts to read: graphic descriptions of bodies blown apart after a bombing; a mother describing her daughter being taken from their tent in the detention camp to be gang raped; a refugee hanging himself rather than be deported; and much more. These things are hard to read, but they aren't gratuitous. They are necessary so we can understand that these people didn't merely WANT to leave their homes and travel to a new country, they NEEDED to.

The issue of immigration and refugees has been in the forefront of American (and I'm assuming Canadian) politics and policy debate, especially the last year under our current administration. This is book is extremely relevant reading in this day and age, and really opens ones eyes to not only the atrocities that are being perpetrated around the world, but on what we can do to help people in their most desperate times of need. While Grace worries about protecting the Canadian people, and asks, "Don't you ever worry about letting the wrong person in?", her fellow adjudicator worries more about protecting the refugees: "I worry about sending the wrong person back." As said by former Canadian Prime Minister Brian Mulroney and repeated by the author, "Canada is not in the business of turning refugees away. If we err, let it be on the side of compassion."

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Optimists Die First

Optimists Die First by Susin Nielsen
My rating: 5 of 5 stars

SPOILERS AHEAD

A heart breaking story of grief, loss, and guilt. It's hard enough dealing with the death of someone you love, let alone if you blame yourself for their death. It doesn't even really matter if it's *really* your fault, the guilt weighs heavily on you all the same. When I say this book made me cry, I'm not talking about small, gentle tears at a moment of sadness. I'm talking about full-on sobs, with me trying to wipe the tears away so I could see enough to drive, and sitting at my car at red lights hoping no one thinks I'm a crazy person. I was that emotionally invested.

I love this ragtag crew of kids that eventually became not just friends, but family. There's no surprise that they each have their own debilitating issues. The important part, though, is that they each came together to help one another in their own unique ways. Petula, with her constant pessimism, hypochondria, paranoia, and isolationism, might not seem like the kind of person who could provide comfort, but she was holding her family together single-handedly, and when these guys needed her, she was there, despite her fears. When Ivan needed to have a fake funeral for his mom to replace the one he'd been forced to miss, not only did Tula bring a shovel and make a tiny coffin, she went on a bus for him, hopped 2 fences for him, and went into a cemetery for him.

I get why Tula and Ivan were reluctant to trust Jacob again. Not only had he lied to them, it was a BIG lie. Knowing didn't change who Jacob was as a person, but it couldn't help but color their opinion of him, and once someone has lied to you once, it's hard to know if anything they are saying is true. I think what hurt Tula the most was that Jacob originally started hanging out with her to help her, not because he truly liked her. In the end, I'm glad Tula and Jacob decided to give their relationship another shot - end the end, they were really good for one another.

The hardest parts to read were about Tula's sister Max's death, and the aftermath. Her loss not only wrecked Tula, it broke up her friendship with her best friend Rachel and eventually drove her parents apart because they just couldn't grieve in the same ways. Tula and Rachel's fight, once we heard all of it, was so painful. Rachel didn't do anything wrong, and Tula was at fault, but I can understand the anger and pain and jealousy she was lashing out with. One of the best moments in the book was when Tula was able to finally look at Rachel's brother Owen and feel peace. "Owen didn't make me miss Maxine because he wasn't Maxine." That grief never really fades, but it becomes less tender over times.

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The Marrow Thieves

The Marrow Thieves by Cherie Dimaline
My rating: 5 of 5 stars

A story about family, love, heritage, survival. As French realizes in the end, "as long as there are dreamers left, there will never be want for a dream. And I understood just what we would do for each other, just what we would do for the ebb and pull of the dream, the bigger dream that held us all. Anything. Everything." Even though this story is set in the future, it feels eminent and real. It's sad to say, but I can picture things turning out this way, and that makes this into an important cautionary tale. It's a warning to be vigilant and watchful about the way we treat others, especially those who are already marginalized as a people group. This is an important book to read, and a story that sucks you in from the very first page.

I loved the different relationships in this group, and the way new families were built, not based on blood, but based on care, devotion, friendship, and love. Watching French and Rose fall in love was tender and sweet, but I also treasured their relationships with each of the others, with Miig, and Wab, and Chi-Boy, and Minerva, and Ri-Ri. It was interesting to see the dynamics of different types of family play out when French found his father again - just because he had found his "real" family, his blood, didn't mean that the gang from the woods that he had spend the last 5 years living with wasn't his family anymore. Where does your loyalty lie when you have more than one allegiance? I appreciated what his father said to him at the end, whenever French was trying to figure out how to tell him he was leaving. Quoting his mother, he said, "...Running only works if you're moving towards something, not away. Otherwise, you'll never get anywhere." Passing down the history of their people was essential to survival and healing, but it was equally important that they look to the future and not live in the past.

Running through this story is French's coming-of-age tale. Through his eyes, we see the disintegration of our society, but we also see the personal side of all the little moments that grow him from a child to an adult. He definitely didn't have an easy childhood, losing his family one by one, and in a way, he lucked out when he stumbled upon a new family in Miig and the others. There are moments through out the story that are real turning points for French - the moose in the woods, grabbing the electric fence, Rose in the hotel, Ri-Ri's death, killing the Indian who wasn't an Indian, finding his father again, Minerva's passing, choosing Rose as his family, finding Isaac - and we can see how his reaction to those moments shaped his character and defined him as a person. French had so much responsibility for someone so young that I occasionally forgot that he was still a teenager. When he's irrationally jealous of anyone who looks at Rose, and blames her for other people's actions, I want to punch him. It helps to remind myself of his youth, and his insecurities that stem from his age, and that Rose can stand up for herself, because she is a strong woman.

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The Best Laid Plans

The Best Laid Plans by Terry Fallis
My rating: 3 of 5 stars

I can't say that any book about politics is my cup of tea, and I especially know nothing about Canadian politics, but one of my friends is actively trying to make me into a Canadian, and she recommended this book to me (in podcast form, read by the author), and so here we are!

This book was definitely funny! There were lots of laugh out loud moments, especially at the beginning when Daniel is using euphemisms to describe catching his girlfriend inflangrante with her boss. The author has certainly mastered the art of a clever turn of phrase.

Angus McLintock is the best. I wish every politician was like him - people who don't necessarily WANT to be in politics, but who are smart, honest, and straightforward, and willing to rise to the occasion and do what is right. For many years I've thought that the people best suited for running government are perhaps people who have no desire for power, and don't want to be "in politics." Unfortunately, that's rarely who we get because those sort of people rarely run for office, and when they do, they rarely succeed. Angus ended up in office through an unexpected twist of fate, and his lack of desire to please anyone put him in the perfect position to not only stand tall and say what he thinks, but to truly act on his beliefs and affect change, both in the government and in real people's lives.

I can't say that Daniel is my favorite person - he's a little too self-centered and self-aware about what people are thinking and saying. In the end, though, he becomes the perfect foil for Angus, providing just enough guidance when necessary, and being easily steamrolled by Angus when he was not.

The experience of listening to this book as a podcast was a little strange, and I'm not sure if I am a fan or not. It was hard to really get into the book sometimes because each episode had a little intro, including the same music each week, an intro to the book by a voiceover person, and then an intro to the chapter by the author before he began reading. The sound mixing was off in some places, too - he used that same music as an interlude at times, and I couldn't always hear the narration very well over the music. He also seemed to feel the need to reintroduce characters every chapter, especially in the beginning. I lost track of how many times we were told who Daniel was, or that Angus was the liberal candidate for Cumberland Prescott. In the end, I'm willing to look over some of these minor annoyances because I realize that some of these things are necessary when you are in the podcasting process and have a week in between each episode. I would be really curious to see how the book compares between the version the author self-published and podcast, and the version that was eventually edited and published by a major company. There might not be that many, as the book was winning awards in it's self-published state, but I can see places were it could use some tightening up.

I'm definitely curious to read/listen to the sequel. I'm hoping that Lindsay maybe plays a larger role in the next book, because she seems amazing and I feel like we only got to see her in the context of how Daniel liked her. And of course, more of Angus is something not to be missed! I want to see that hovercraft in action again - his wild ride down the snowy, icy river was quite the adventure!

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A Wrinkle in Time

A Wrinkle in Time by Madeleine L'Engle
My rating: 4 of 5 stars

Full disclosure: Madeleine L'Engle is one of my favorite writers. I devoured her books as a teenager and into my 20s, both her fiction and non-fiction work. A Wrinkle in Time was never one of my favorites (That would be a Ring of Endless Light and An Acceptable Time), but I think that's mostly because it was the most challenging for me to read. It was mind-bending in a way I wasn't used to, blending science and beauty and faith all in one. Even though I still don't fully understand it even now, I can appreciate it's beauty and simplicity more at this age than I personally could as a child.

Meg is a wonderful sort of heroine to look up to - she never pretends to be anyone but herself. As her mom mentions, "You're much too straightforward to be able to pretend to be what you aren't." I love that the one of the gifts given to her is her faults. It challenges us to look at every aspect of ourselves as a positive, as well - you can be stubborn or tenacious, it's all a matter of perspective. Of course, Meg does hold on to her anger for a while when they are trying to figure out how to rescue Charles Wallace, but I think that is mostly due to her overwhelming fear. Meg assumed that when they found her father, he'd have all the solutions, because he'd always HAD all the solutions. Instead, like every human, he doesn't know everything, and he can't do everything himself. Mr. Murray is fallible, and ends up having to rely on his daughter to do the life-saving, which was challenging for him, as well. Once Meg figured out that she had to embrace her fear and move past it, she was able to let go of her anger and resentment, and do what must be done to save Charles Wallace.

Calvin is different from Meg in a lot of ways, but especially in his ability to thrive in any environment. In many ways, though, Calvin and Meg were the same - they never felt liked they truly belonged anywhere, neither in their families nor in society as a whole. When Calvin met the Murrays, it's like he found a whole new world, one that he could only have dreamed of. Meg seemed shocked when he said, "There hasn't been anybody, anybody in the world I could talk to," and it seemed to open her eyes a bit to how great her family was, despite it's drawbacks. This was especially evident when Meg insisted the Happy Medium show them Calvin's mother before their own, and we witness first hand the sadness and violence that is his normal, his homelife.

Charles Wallace is a character I still don't full understand. He's a precocious, extremely intellectual child, with a vast amount of brain power and understand for anyone, let alone a 5 year old. He almost seems more alien than the actual aliens we meet in this book. Are there really kids like this out there? Or do I need to suspend my disbelief a little more? Irregardless of my understand of Charles Wallace, I enjoyed that it was his pride that allowed him to be trapped by IT, despite the fact that he was warned against such an occurrence, and that it was Meg's love and connect to him that allowed him to be saved.

Of course, the greatest power in this book was Love, and that's a concept that will always be applicable to our lives. The evil darkness that we are fighting is hatred, murder, death, conformity, and so on.The dark power seems to think (or maybe just uses the rationale) that life is better under their control, because no one suffers or is unhappy. But I think we can see pretty plainly how the people of Camazotz were suffering - children being tortured, everyone living in fear of reprogramming, neighbor spying upon neighbor. Plus, even if none of those people were unhappy, even if they were truly brainwashed, as Meg says, "Maybe if you aren't unhappy sometimes, you don't know how to be happy." Our human fighters against this darkness are people of the light - not just religious light like Jesus, but also artists, scientists, humanitarians.

If you take nothing else from this book, I would hope you'd remember this: Love people. Be yourself. Don't be afraid to be afraid. Do what is right.

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Precious Cargo

Precious Cargo: My Year of Driving the Kids on School Bus 3077 by Craig Davidson
My rating: 5 of 5 stars

A memoir about connection, and the way the people you meet can have a deep impact on the person you become, regardless of what age you are when you meet them. As Jake says, "You meet people and your life gets its shape by the things that happen when you meet."

Craig had been at a low point in his life when he signed on to be a bus driver, but that decision would ultimately give him not only a year filled with joy, but the self-enlightenment to take a look at his life and change it for the better. He was pushed to step out of his comfort zone and the self-pity he'd been living in and try to reach his goals. At one point, Craig mentions that he's not as deeply satisfied with his life as he expected, but isn't that the way of things? Few things live up to your expectations, and much of the joy in life comes from continually chasing the goals set before you, and never giving up.

The kids Craig spent a year with had certainly faced challenges in their young lives. They were each both unique and also the same as any other kid. They inspired him, with both their own stories and dreams, to take a look at what he was writing and "tell the stories that lie nearest to your heart. That way they're not really fabrications at all. They're hopeful truths."

All the kids had their own endearing qualities, and because Craig loved them, I came to love them, too. Jake especially felt extremely mature for his age, and maybe that's the fact that he had already survived so much, and because he became like family to Craig.

It's sad to think that maybe Craig and Jake didn't spend as much time hanging out together once he wasn't a bus driver anymore, so I'm going to assume their relationship continued. Regardless, the fact remains that Jake and the other kids had a huge impact on Craig's life. As Craig says, "Time gets away from us. It rips some of our friends away. People come together, they fall apart. But what I've realized, and what I hope you understand, too, is this doesn't mean the memories go anywhere or are any less essential."

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The Sun Is Also a Star

The Sun Is Also a Star by Nicola Yoon
My rating: 4 of 5 stars

SPOILERS AHEAD

A sweet story about connection that was somehow both breezy and full of emotional weight. I would have given this one a higher rating, and you can call me a cynic all you want, but I truly don't believe you can fall in love with someone in one day. I won't go so far as to say I agree with Natasha at the beginning of the book - I believe in LOVE. But I think it's something that takes time to develop with any real, lasting depth.

As for the things I did like: Daniel and Natasha were very different from one another, but they were both looking to change their lives, and break away from what was expected of them. I liked the juxtaposition of their different family relationships, and how they morphed and changed over the years.

It was interesting to compare their different immigrant experiences. Natasha's family was here illegally, but her father was desperate to assimilate himself into the American experience, working hard at losing his accent. Meanwhile, Daniel's family were here legally, but his dad seemed focused on his kids dating Koreans and doing what they're told, because the parents know what's best for them.

My favorite thing, perhaps, was how interconnected all the characters were, even the minor ones. It really illustrates the effect one can have on the lives of those around you, even complete strangers that you only see once. The lawyer and his paralegal, the smoking security guard, and especially Irene, the checkpoint scanner - their lives would have been so different had they not met Natasha and Daniel. So is it Fate or merely coincidence? I'm not sure I believe in fate, but I do believe that if you treat others with kindness and respect, you can affect change in their lives.

I'm still debating how I feel about the epilogue section. I was sort of relieved that Natasha and Daniel slowly grew apart as time went on, because that seemed more natural and true to how life actually works. Their reunion on the plane (with Irene!) is an awfully big coincidence of "fate," of which I am extremely skeptical, but I'm willing to accept it in the end because I want them to be happy, and they seem to make one another very happy. And happy endings are necessary in life sometimes.

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The Bright Hour

The Bright Hour: A Memoir of Living and Dying by Nina Riggs
My rating: 5 of 5 stars

A beautiful written memoir, not just about dying, but also about living: how you go on living with terminal illness, with chronic pain, with the death of your mother, with the knowledge your kids will have to go on without you. Nina Riggs tries to work through these and other thoughts as she deals not only with her own diagnosis, but that of her mother, dying of a completely different type of cancer.

2 cancers at the same time in one family is ridiculously, over-the-top unfair. I knew this was going to be about Nina's cancer journey, but I didn't expect to go through her mother's as well, and how she feels and deals with the loss of her mom. It echoes so closely to the fears that live with me about losing my own parents one day, too. How do I live in a world with out my parents? How do I do anything without them?

What I keep going back to is something Nina says early on: "These days are days. We choose how we hold them." And then at the end, she harkens back to that earlier conversation: "My voice: I have to love these days the same as any other. His voice: I'm so afraid I can't breathe. We're making our way like this, though: We are breathless, but we love there days. They are promises. They are the only way to walk from one night to the other."

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