From Library Journal
Dodd (The Mourner's Bench, LJ 6/1/98) uses her amazing command of language to present the eternal search for love in unsuspected venues. Her characters fail to fulfill their desperate longings, leaving the reader hungry for more. In "The Lost Art of Sleep," having left Haiti in search of respite and finding none, Lisabet is caring for her eight grandchildren while their parents search for work. She must leave the children in a cave outside the city limits while she begs for food and searches for the parents. Returning to the children at the end of the day, "Her arm tightens around the dark bundle slung against her hip: two worm-scarred apples, a cellophane bag with a sprinkling of coarse salts from pretzels, a loaf of moldy bread... Provisions." With such eloquence, Dodd exposes all of our unrequited, pedestrian yearnings. Highly recommended.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment