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Brood
A new literary voice--wryly funny, honest and observational,--depicts one woman's attempt to keep her four chickens alive while reflecting on a recent loss.
Over the course of a single year, our nameless narrator heroically tries to keep her small brood of four chickens alive despite the seemingly endless challenges that caring for another creature entails. From the forty-below nights of a brutal Minnesota winter to a sweltering summer which brings a surprise tornado, she battles predators, bad luck, and the uncertainty of a future that may not look anything like the one she always imagined. This book is a meditation on life and longing.
Over the course of a single year, our nameless narrator heroically tries to keep her small brood of four chickens alive despite the seemingly endless challenges that caring for another creature entails. From the forty-below nights of a brutal Minnesota winter to a sweltering summer which brings a surprise tornado, she battles predators, bad luck, and the uncertainty of a future that may not look anything like the one she always imagined. This book is a meditation on life and longing.
240 pages, Hardcover
First published March 9, 2021
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 803 reviews
March 31, 2022
Brood proves that even a small-canvas story can contain multitudes, when it's crafted by a writer with a talent for empathy, a scrupulous attention to detail, and a pitch-perfect sense of how to build rhythm in a sentence.
I don't want to paraphrase this story or try to tell you specifically what it's about, because the way it unfolds from its first pages, sentence by sentence, revelation after quiet revelation, is both surprising and masterful. Turning a page sometimes felt as if I was turning a corner to see an entirely new view of things, where even the most seemingly mundane subject could become somehow greater than its parts. The story is narrated by a character who lives her life with rapt attention. She has exquisite connection with living things, whether they be her chickens, or her flawed friends. In the beginning the novel is delightful. By the end it becomes a meditation on love, grief, and life's meanings.
I'm grateful for the time spent reading these pages.. This novel is the real deal.
I don't want to paraphrase this story or try to tell you specifically what it's about, because the way it unfolds from its first pages, sentence by sentence, revelation after quiet revelation, is both surprising and masterful. Turning a page sometimes felt as if I was turning a corner to see an entirely new view of things, where even the most seemingly mundane subject could become somehow greater than its parts. The story is narrated by a character who lives her life with rapt attention. She has exquisite connection with living things, whether they be her chickens, or her flawed friends. In the beginning the novel is delightful. By the end it becomes a meditation on love, grief, and life's meanings.
I'm grateful for the time spent reading these pages.. This novel is the real deal.
March 29, 2021
This fits perfectly into my category of odd little books. I hate to describe it to anyone by saying it's about a woman trying her best to keep four chickens alive over the course of a year. That is the basic premise, but it encompasses so much more. She has an eccentric husband who loves her dearly but has a hard time showing it. Her best friend is a realtor with some eccentricities of her own. Her mother is quite a character in her own right. Told in the first person by our unnamed narrator, we slowly but surely come to realize why these chickens are so important to her, and we lose little pieces of our heart by degrees.
And the chickens! We learn so much about the tiny brains and strange habits of chickens along the way. None of which I had the slightest desire to learn on my own, but when presented in the course of the story, are absolutely fascinating. This was 220 pages of sheer delight for me.
If you should find yourself needing something a little different, give this a try. Funny, sad, charming, quirky; all those things and more. I give credit to the review of Lark Benobi for putting this on my radar. Without that, this would have remained undiscovered by me. What a shame that would have been.
And the chickens! We learn so much about the tiny brains and strange habits of chickens along the way. None of which I had the slightest desire to learn on my own, but when presented in the course of the story, are absolutely fascinating. This was 220 pages of sheer delight for me.
If you should find yourself needing something a little different, give this a try. Funny, sad, charming, quirky; all those things and more. I give credit to the review of Lark Benobi for putting this on my radar. Without that, this would have remained undiscovered by me. What a shame that would have been.
March 9, 2021
’Hope” is the thing with feathers…’
-- Emily Dickinson
On the surface, this is a quiet novel, but underneath it all lies a jumble of emotions, a quietly building inner turmoil and an ever-present grief. A miscarriage which has traumatized a woman, is seemingly quieted by her increasing obsession with her chickens, which she tends, hovering over their every need and happiness.
A realtor friend offers her occasional work, cleaning and fixing up these homes, trying to lose herself in these domestic transformations to avoid focusing on her loss. Her husband is oblivious to her inner turmoil. Although physically present, he is never emotionally so, his mind is fixed on a potential, more prestigious job he is waiting on, hopeful to receive an offer. Meanwhile, the wife seems to obsess even more so over the chickens, needing to keep them safe, healthy and alive, seemingly in order to prove to herself that she is capable of caring for a life.
A very realistic, moving portrait of grief, and finding a way through the sorrow to hope.
Published: 09 Mar 2021
Many thanks for the ARC provided by Doubleday / Random House
April 13, 2021
CW: Before the book begins, the narrator had a miscarriage, and it doesn't get mentioned right away so I don't want anyone to be surprised. (I knew from other discussion I'd seen.)
Small, internal, pondering books are my salvation in the last year.
This one reads like lyric essay or memoir, like Annie Dillard. It combines observation and real life with a few memorable characters, and like Moby Dick (facts about whales!) it is about chickens, but it also isn't.
I felt the weird sense of disconnect to humans and clinging to these chickens as something that makes sense, a weird sense of surreality in trying to make sense of what life will be now, what does living mean, a deep unknowing of the self (but wanting to.) Sometimes connecting to chickens is the one thing you have, so then what happens if they don't survive? The author uses the word brood about her chickens, her absent child, but also I think the way we use that word to mean agonizing contemplation - or as Google wants to define it, "to think deeply about something that makes one unhappy."
This won't be for everyone, but it was for me.
I had a copy of this book from the publisher through NetGalley; it came out March 9th.
Small, internal, pondering books are my salvation in the last year.
This one reads like lyric essay or memoir, like Annie Dillard. It combines observation and real life with a few memorable characters, and like Moby Dick (facts about whales!) it is about chickens, but it also isn't.
I felt the weird sense of disconnect to humans and clinging to these chickens as something that makes sense, a weird sense of surreality in trying to make sense of what life will be now, what does living mean, a deep unknowing of the self (but wanting to.) Sometimes connecting to chickens is the one thing you have, so then what happens if they don't survive? The author uses the word brood about her chickens, her absent child, but also I think the way we use that word to mean agonizing contemplation - or as Google wants to define it, "to think deeply about something that makes one unhappy."
This won't be for everyone, but it was for me.
I had a copy of this book from the publisher through NetGalley; it came out March 9th.
April 25, 2021
More reviews up on my blog Inside My Library Mind
This book for some reason consumed my every waking hour for the past month, and as I sit here, I am having a hard time conveying to you how good it was and why I think you should read it. First of all, let’s get this out of the way – I hate chickens. Or more precisely, I am terrified of them. So when I first saw this book (I think it was on the Books & Bao channel when Will talked about it, and honestly, no one can sell me a book like they can), I was naturally skeptical. BUT I became obsessed with the concept and I like to make a parody of myself at all times, so I ended up getting the book and actually picking it up the minute I opened the package. Thus became the chicken book saga. AND then I absolutely loved it.
Jackie Polzin’s writing was just perfectly suited to my taste. This book is told in a series of vignettes basically, which I am always a fan of, because I feel like it’s great for character exploration. Jackie Polzin knows how to construct a perfectly rhythmical sentence, which makes the book compulsively readable. And speaking of that character work, I absolutely loved the narrator – she is incredibly perceptive and her thoughts are so insightful. Her anxiety surrounding her everyday life and in particular her chickens, that is very relatable. This book is so unassuming and quiet and yet manages to explore grief in such a powerful and resounding way. Polzin is an empathetic writer which I really appreciated.
This novel is quite melancholic and pensive throughout, and when I finished it I felt this strange mixture of deep-rooted sadness and hope, and I like to think that that was exactly what the author was going for. I also had this urge to hug the book and stare into the distance pondering my life choices and thinking that maybe I could move somewhere rural and raise chickens. The jury is still out on whether Polzin was going for that as well. This was also quite dark at times, which is surprising, because the book is also quite funny and witty, and I would argue that just the general concept of chickens is light-hearted, which allows for a very fascinating and compelling juxtaposition. This might not seem like an emotional read at first, but there’s something really human about it and I feel like the topics of grief and motherhood and sorrow are explored with such care. GOD I LOVED THIS BOOK and it is my favorite book of the year so far.
Obviously, everyone is expecting a statement on the chickens. Chickens are weird, man. They are PREDATORS and such strange creatures, and while I learned to appreciate them because of this book, they are still terrifying. Very much should not be perceived AT ALL. But I did deeply care for these four chickens. Very hard to choose a fave, but possibly it’s Gloria. So yes, I am glad I decided to forgive the chickens’ past crimes against me to read this, but I stand by my chicken attitudes.
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“A chicken knows only what it can see. A chicken’s life is full of magic. Lo and behold.”
This book for some reason consumed my every waking hour for the past month, and as I sit here, I am having a hard time conveying to you how good it was and why I think you should read it. First of all, let’s get this out of the way – I hate chickens. Or more precisely, I am terrified of them. So when I first saw this book (I think it was on the Books & Bao channel when Will talked about it, and honestly, no one can sell me a book like they can), I was naturally skeptical. BUT I became obsessed with the concept and I like to make a parody of myself at all times, so I ended up getting the book and actually picking it up the minute I opened the package. Thus became the chicken book saga. AND then I absolutely loved it.
Jackie Polzin’s writing was just perfectly suited to my taste. This book is told in a series of vignettes basically, which I am always a fan of, because I feel like it’s great for character exploration. Jackie Polzin knows how to construct a perfectly rhythmical sentence, which makes the book compulsively readable. And speaking of that character work, I absolutely loved the narrator – she is incredibly perceptive and her thoughts are so insightful. Her anxiety surrounding her everyday life and in particular her chickens, that is very relatable. This book is so unassuming and quiet and yet manages to explore grief in such a powerful and resounding way. Polzin is an empathetic writer which I really appreciated.
This novel is quite melancholic and pensive throughout, and when I finished it I felt this strange mixture of deep-rooted sadness and hope, and I like to think that that was exactly what the author was going for. I also had this urge to hug the book and stare into the distance pondering my life choices and thinking that maybe I could move somewhere rural and raise chickens. The jury is still out on whether Polzin was going for that as well. This was also quite dark at times, which is surprising, because the book is also quite funny and witty, and I would argue that just the general concept of chickens is light-hearted, which allows for a very fascinating and compelling juxtaposition. This might not seem like an emotional read at first, but there’s something really human about it and I feel like the topics of grief and motherhood and sorrow are explored with such care. GOD I LOVED THIS BOOK and it is my favorite book of the year so far.
Obviously, everyone is expecting a statement on the chickens. Chickens are weird, man. They are PREDATORS and such strange creatures, and while I learned to appreciate them because of this book, they are still terrifying. Very much should not be perceived AT ALL. But I did deeply care for these four chickens. Very hard to choose a fave, but possibly it’s Gloria. So yes, I am glad I decided to forgive the chickens’ past crimes against me to read this, but I stand by my chicken attitudes.
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November 9, 2020
Before I get to the review, I want to make sure to mention I am ALWAYS grateful to receive books from publishers. (A big thank you to Doubleday for allowing me the chance to read this one.) I can try to imagine the herculean task that writing a book must be - authors work many hours, bravely sharing their innermost thoughts and imaginings with people outside and not at all connected to themselves. That's a huge deal, and it should always be recognized as such. I also recognize that every book does not resonate with ever reader. Unfortunately, this novel did not resonate with me.
The synopsis painted this book as an exploration of grief through the POV of a woman dealing with a miscarriage while trying to keep her small brood of chickens alive in a devastatingly cold Minnesota winter. It's billed as being full of "wisdom, sorrow, and joy". I expected big feelings.
My first impression was that the writing was perfunctory, distantly emotionless, and austere. I hoped we'd just gotten off on the wrong foot and kept reading. There were chickens, and they did play a major role in the story. There were a few mentions of a miscarriage.
Other than that, it felt like I was reading clusters of detached thoughts about animal husbandry and house cleaning, with some fleeting glimpses of the protagonist's marriage, friendships, and an almost clinically brief report of her miscarriage.
It all read like a very dry journal.
I tried to unpack it - having dealt with a shattering pregnancy loss myself and being a hopelessly animal-obsessed empath, I allowed myself to be open to the fact that not everyone handles grief in the same way. Some of us wrap ourselves in it, facing it head-on and allowing it to brutalize us until we come out, battered, on the other side. Others of us remove ourselves as far from it as we can, and we stay tucked away from it until we can peek back into our feelings and find a point in time that they won't drown us.
Even trying to think that perhaps the story's protagonist was one of these latter types, who distanced herself from her grief and found solace in these chickens to sustain her through it....I just found myself not connecting with her at all.
Brood certainly has potential, but it missed the mark for me.
The synopsis painted this book as an exploration of grief through the POV of a woman dealing with a miscarriage while trying to keep her small brood of chickens alive in a devastatingly cold Minnesota winter. It's billed as being full of "wisdom, sorrow, and joy". I expected big feelings.
My first impression was that the writing was perfunctory, distantly emotionless, and austere. I hoped we'd just gotten off on the wrong foot and kept reading. There were chickens, and they did play a major role in the story. There were a few mentions of a miscarriage.
Other than that, it felt like I was reading clusters of detached thoughts about animal husbandry and house cleaning, with some fleeting glimpses of the protagonist's marriage, friendships, and an almost clinically brief report of her miscarriage.
It all read like a very dry journal.
I tried to unpack it - having dealt with a shattering pregnancy loss myself and being a hopelessly animal-obsessed empath, I allowed myself to be open to the fact that not everyone handles grief in the same way. Some of us wrap ourselves in it, facing it head-on and allowing it to brutalize us until we come out, battered, on the other side. Others of us remove ourselves as far from it as we can, and we stay tucked away from it until we can peek back into our feelings and find a point in time that they won't drown us.
Even trying to think that perhaps the story's protagonist was one of these latter types, who distanced herself from her grief and found solace in these chickens to sustain her through it....I just found myself not connecting with her at all.
Brood certainly has potential, but it missed the mark for me.
June 10, 2021
Sad, tender, surprisingly gruesome. I did not anticipate becoming this attached to chickens.
November 22, 2022
“La vita non è altro che lo sforzo continuo di vivere. Certe persone lo fanno sembrare facile. Le galline no.”
Si chiamano Miss Hennepin, County, Gam Gam Testanera e Gloria
Sono quattro galline, l'orgoglio la gioia e la principale preoccupazione della protagonista senza nome e narratrice, che con il marito Percy vive nella periferia del Minnesota.
In questo piccolo pollaio del Minnesota, che ci crediate o no, si riflette il mondo intero, con le sue perdite, i suoi dolori, la sporcizia e la bellezza.
Jackie Polzin ha il grande dono di descrivere i piccoli e grandi drammi del quotidiano con una prosa meravigliosa, ricca di umanità.
Nonostante alcune osservazioni siano irreali, il messaggio che arriva è che la felicità si concretizza nella semplicità delle conquiste, come quando prende la forma di un chicco di mais conquistato a fatica da una delle pennute protagoniste
Spesso fonte di apprensione, la vita tra le galline insegna alla protagonista a fuggire da un evento drammatico che l’ha segnata e ad intravedere il bello del presente, contemplando il miracolo di un uovo caldo che racchiude tutti i misteri della vita e accettando il corso che le cose inevitabilmente prendono, che lo vogliamo o no.
“L’ho tenuto in mano come un talismano “
Quattro Galline è una storia intima e genuina sull'inspiegabile incantesimo del vivere, sulle scintille di luce che arrivano per lenire il dolore, perché si può vivere una vita imperfetta senza mai crollare, come fa quell'acero malandato che da sempre sta sul retro della fattoria, a dispetto di tutto e tutti.
Una lettura riflessiva, lenta, spassosa e commovente sull’accudimento come sfogo al dolore.
E sulla simbiosi che la natura, non sempre buona, riesce a creare
Si chiamano Miss Hennepin, County, Gam Gam Testanera e Gloria
Sono quattro galline, l'orgoglio la gioia e la principale preoccupazione della protagonista senza nome e narratrice, che con il marito Percy vive nella periferia del Minnesota.
In questo piccolo pollaio del Minnesota, che ci crediate o no, si riflette il mondo intero, con le sue perdite, i suoi dolori, la sporcizia e la bellezza.
Jackie Polzin ha il grande dono di descrivere i piccoli e grandi drammi del quotidiano con una prosa meravigliosa, ricca di umanità.
Nonostante alcune osservazioni siano irreali, il messaggio che arriva è che la felicità si concretizza nella semplicità delle conquiste, come quando prende la forma di un chicco di mais conquistato a fatica da una delle pennute protagoniste
Spesso fonte di apprensione, la vita tra le galline insegna alla protagonista a fuggire da un evento drammatico che l’ha segnata e ad intravedere il bello del presente, contemplando il miracolo di un uovo caldo che racchiude tutti i misteri della vita e accettando il corso che le cose inevitabilmente prendono, che lo vogliamo o no.
“L’ho tenuto in mano come un talismano “
Quattro Galline è una storia intima e genuina sull'inspiegabile incantesimo del vivere, sulle scintille di luce che arrivano per lenire il dolore, perché si può vivere una vita imperfetta senza mai crollare, come fa quell'acero malandato che da sempre sta sul retro della fattoria, a dispetto di tutto e tutti.
Una lettura riflessiva, lenta, spassosa e commovente sull’accudimento come sfogo al dolore.
E sulla simbiosi che la natura, non sempre buona, riesce a creare
August 18, 2021
I don't get this book; like fundamentally, I just didn't understand it. I love books that focus on a specific thing or microcosm and then use it to explore its main character--think the convenience store in Convenience Store Woman--but I just don't think that Brood did that, or did it very well at least. I expected a book about chickens, but I didn't expect a book ONLY about chickens. Like did I miss something here? Because there was barely anything in terms of character in this book; all I got was a half-baked, barely-there attempt at exploring the aftermath of a miscarriage.
This was a short book, but after the umpteenth description of the logistics of maintaining a chicken coop, I was pretty much ready for it to be over. As it was, I'm more than glad that it is.
This was a short book, but after the umpteenth description of the logistics of maintaining a chicken coop, I was pretty much ready for it to be over. As it was, I'm more than glad that it is.
April 2, 2022
[3.4] A meditative novel about a woman who devotes herself to the care and protection of her chickens in the year after her miscarriage. Parts of it resonated with me, but I grew impatient with the minutia about raising chickens.
March 4, 2022
Delicado, diferente y especial.
April 10, 2021
As I read this book I couldn’t decide if it was everything or nothing. Upon reflection I realized that it was a quiet, beautiful piece of writing that I almost didn’t take the time to appreciate. For me it had nothing to do with grief or how to raise chickens or transitions; it was about putting one foot in front of the other and moving through life’s challenges and mundaneness. Like most of our days, there is not an excess of drama. Events happen that can be boiled down into a few sentences. It’s up to us to figure out how best to move forward and spend our time. As our unnamed narrator coaxes chickens to withstand the extremes of Minnesota weather and nature’s challenges, she lives her life.
She makes her own decisions about what she chooses to nurture.
The interior dialogue of the characters is yours to imagine. The relationship between Percy and the narrator is described only by snippets yet I understood it. Not everything in life and books needs to be analyzed. Sometimes you just live the life you’re dealt with as much grace as you can muster on that particular day. This book is lyrical, quiet and oh so perfect.
She makes her own decisions about what she chooses to nurture.
The interior dialogue of the characters is yours to imagine. The relationship between Percy and the narrator is described only by snippets yet I understood it. Not everything in life and books needs to be analyzed. Sometimes you just live the life you’re dealt with as much grace as you can muster on that particular day. This book is lyrical, quiet and oh so perfect.
May 18, 2021
2 stars - Just Okay
I am not sure why I choose this book in the first place, but I think I expected more from it than I got. It is not that this is a bad book - it is not. It's just that it did not move me, did not do much for me, and had a pretty bland story line.
This story is about a woman who raises four chickens in her back yard. During the raising and loss of all four chickens there is tidbits about her life, her mother, her husband and her best friend.
The book is billed as insightful, reflecting and hopeful. I guess that you will need to read it to see if that is true, and then let me know what I missed.
I am not sure why I choose this book in the first place, but I think I expected more from it than I got. It is not that this is a bad book - it is not. It's just that it did not move me, did not do much for me, and had a pretty bland story line.
This story is about a woman who raises four chickens in her back yard. During the raising and loss of all four chickens there is tidbits about her life, her mother, her husband and her best friend.
The book is billed as insightful, reflecting and hopeful. I guess that you will need to read it to see if that is true, and then let me know what I missed.
April 30, 2021
Polzin’s debut novel is a quietly touching story of a woman in the Midwest raising chickens and coming to terms with the shape of her life. The unnamed narrator is Everywoman and no one at the same time. As in recent autofiction by Rachel Cusk and Sigrid Nunez, readers find observations of other people (and animals), a record of their behavior and words; facts about the narrator herself are few and far between, though it is possible to gradually piece together a backstory for her. At one point she reveals, with no fanfare, that she miscarried four months into pregnancy in the bathroom of one of the houses she cleans. There is a bittersweet tone to this short work. It’s a low-key, genuine portrait of life in the in-between stages and how it can be affected by fate or by other people’s decisions.
See my full review at BookBrowse. (I was also lucky enough to do an interview with the author.)
See my full review at BookBrowse. (I was also lucky enough to do an interview with the author.)
June 23, 2021
A few readers I trust completely wrote to me early this year telling me I would love this book. I have never felt so seen and understood (both by them and by this book). As someone who has gone to extreme lengths to keep my chickens alive (RIP Peggy) I understood our nameless narrator implicitly. Brood may seemingly be a book of chickens but it’s actually a book of the particular grief that follows a miscarriage. Polzin is comfortable with dark humour and this book is as funny as it is sad. The writing is GLORIOUS! I could eat prose this good. It won’t be for everyone but it is decidedly for me and will be in my top books of the year without doubt. It’s a specific joy to feel so seen by a book and the people who read them.
March 30, 2021
Jackie Polzin’s debut novel, Brood, marks the emergence of an exquisite new literary voice. The writing is wryly funny, nakedly honest, beautifully observational and depicts one woman's attempt to keep her four chickens alive while reflecting on a recent loss. The plot could be seen as quite uneventful, yet Polzin’s ability to make the most quotidian of tasks engaging is quite astonishing. Our nameless narrator and her absent-minded economist husband, Percy, reside in the Camden neighbourhood in an exurb of Minnesota. He is currently in the running for a prominent professorship at a university in California but is oblivious to the hell his wife is going through regarding their miscarriage. Over the course of a year, she cycles through grief as she cares for, does on and worries about her four chickens: Gloria, Miss Hennepin County, Darkness and Gam Gam, who nest in an old dolls house and certainly grab the neighbours attention being the only brood on the street. The challenges are daunting, to say the least, brutally cold temperatures in Winter, the scorching Summer heat, countless determined predators and an indiscriminate tornado that rips through the area. As she fiercely protects her "girls" from the many dangers and spends hours and hours per day checking up on them, we learn all about the challenges of being a "mother hen", her concerns about having to find them a new home if her husband is given the job and the day-to-day tasks associated with keeping them healthy and happy. She questions her relevance in life and contemplates motherhood; she believes she would've been a good mother and has immense trouble letting go of the possibility. She has, like many other women, an innate desire to carry and tend to a child. She also finds it difficult to bear the thought that others may see her as someone who simply did not want children. When confronting a raccoon in the coop in the middle of the night, she comes alive.
All of her fierce motherly instincts igniting a switch buried deep in the centre of her grief telling her to ensure the broods safety. Her friend, Helen, a real estate broker, tries to keep her occupied by offering her occasional work cleaning and fixing up houses she is listing before they are shown to potential buyers, which earns our protagonist a living, but she still retires to her clucking feathered friends and the extensive time she spends alone allows her to rehash the trauma over and over again. In the end, she is no more able to save her brood than she was the child that she tragically miscarried. This short but powerful, nuanced novel is written with a devastatingly deft hand and although deceptively simple, at its heart it is a richly-described and painfully honest allegory of ever-present and overwhelming grief, which many women will sadly be able to relate to. It's a profoundly moving, sometimes darkly humorous and often heart-wrenching story with wit, quiet wisdom and emotional resonance in abundance. In my opinion, this can only have written by a writer who has experienced this first-hand due to the realism and authentic portrayal of love, loss, solitude and the desperate yearning to care for and love other living beings to try to quell the waves of despair and plug the hole in your heart. While the loss of our narrator’s pregnancy at four months and its haunting aftermath is told in poignant and evocative vignettes, the rest of the narrative is full of acute observations, sublime descriptions and characters who steal your heart. This character-driven tale takes you on an indelible journey from start to denouement with heart and soul, hope and despair, heartbreak and joy. It's a truly intimate and searingly original portrait of a woman who finds solace in nature and in playing a nurturing and almost motherly role in spite of her childlessness. Highly recommended.
All of her fierce motherly instincts igniting a switch buried deep in the centre of her grief telling her to ensure the broods safety. Her friend, Helen, a real estate broker, tries to keep her occupied by offering her occasional work cleaning and fixing up houses she is listing before they are shown to potential buyers, which earns our protagonist a living, but she still retires to her clucking feathered friends and the extensive time she spends alone allows her to rehash the trauma over and over again. In the end, she is no more able to save her brood than she was the child that she tragically miscarried. This short but powerful, nuanced novel is written with a devastatingly deft hand and although deceptively simple, at its heart it is a richly-described and painfully honest allegory of ever-present and overwhelming grief, which many women will sadly be able to relate to. It's a profoundly moving, sometimes darkly humorous and often heart-wrenching story with wit, quiet wisdom and emotional resonance in abundance. In my opinion, this can only have written by a writer who has experienced this first-hand due to the realism and authentic portrayal of love, loss, solitude and the desperate yearning to care for and love other living beings to try to quell the waves of despair and plug the hole in your heart. While the loss of our narrator’s pregnancy at four months and its haunting aftermath is told in poignant and evocative vignettes, the rest of the narrative is full of acute observations, sublime descriptions and characters who steal your heart. This character-driven tale takes you on an indelible journey from start to denouement with heart and soul, hope and despair, heartbreak and joy. It's a truly intimate and searingly original portrait of a woman who finds solace in nature and in playing a nurturing and almost motherly role in spite of her childlessness. Highly recommended.
November 2, 2022
È vero che in questo piccolo libro c’è qualcosa. Una particolare finezza e sensibilità nella scrittura e nello sguardo della narratrice, che si posa sul pollaio e osserva, giorno dopo giorno, le sue galline e altre bestiole che transitano nel suo cortile. E insieme ci racconta qualcosa di sé, del marito, della madre, dell’amica, e del grande dolore di cui non riesce a darsi pace: aver perso il suo bambino non ancora nato, anni prima, e non poterne avere un altro. Sembra che la decisione insolita di allevare galline in un sobborgo cittadino del Minnesota, dove tra l'altro le galline rischiano sempre di morire di freddo, sia provocata dal suo desiderio frustrato di accudire e proteggere una o più creature fragili (e forse il titolo originale, Covata, rinforza questa impressione); ma la narratrice non lo dice mai chiaramente. Nella apparente serenità e semplicità della sua vita, volutamente privata di ogni complicazione, incarico o impegno, salvo quello di allevare le quattro galline, serpeggia tuttavia, amaro e incancellabile, il dolore. Non c’è altra trama che il racconto, asciutto e delicato, ma anche un po’ noioso, delle disavventure quotidiane che le galline subiscono, confrontate a quelle che subiamo noi umani. Io non ci ho trovato traccia di umorismo, né ironia, né particolare originalità, né tantomeno saggezza (le riflessioni sugli animali e sulle persone mi sembrano banali), ma solo una straziante malinconia.
È un romanzo piacevole, ma il suo successo mi pare davvero spropositato; e il fatto che tutti gli scrittori italiani in voga l’abbiano letto (nell’edizione vengono riportate le loro lodi sperticate) mi insospettisce anziché convincermi.
È un romanzo piacevole, ma il suo successo mi pare davvero spropositato; e il fatto che tutti gli scrittori italiani in voga l’abbiano letto (nell’edizione vengono riportate le loro lodi sperticate) mi insospettisce anziché convincermi.
June 16, 2021
i never want to read the word ‘chicken’ again and i want a kfc bargain bucket now, please
March 24, 2021
3,5*
Panaši savo rašymo stiliumi ir net struktūra į Sigrid Nunez "Draugas". Tik man padariusi ne tokį puikų įspūdį. Naratorė čia globoja vištas, kurias stebėdama ir pasakoja savo gyvenimo istoriją.
Panaši savo rašymo stiliumi ir net struktūra į Sigrid Nunez "Draugas". Tik man padariusi ne tokį puikų įspūdį. Naratorė čia globoja vištas, kurias stebėdama ir pasakoja savo gyvenimo istoriją.
August 23, 2021
[edit: changing this to a solid 4 stars instead of 3.5, because i keep thinking about it!]
i spent way too long reading this because of personal reasons so i feel like i didn't get the Full Experience and would have enjoyed it more if i had. i highly recommend you pick this up if you're interested and also want to boost Marija's review, as she's the one who got me to read this!
i spent way too long reading this because of personal reasons so i feel like i didn't get the Full Experience and would have enjoyed it more if i had. i highly recommend you pick this up if you're interested and also want to boost Marija's review, as she's the one who got me to read this!
April 1, 2021
How I loved this beautiful little book! Moments of humor mixed with moments of great sadness. It's a short book but took me quite awhile because it felt like a meditation. I would pick it up and read only one or two of its very short chapters and then put it down again so I could savor what I had just read. I didn't want it to end. Ms. Polzin's name will go on my "Be on the Alert" list for sure for anything else she may write in the future. Do know that it's a slow-moving book so if that isn't something you enjoy, this might not be for you. But I truly loved every word.
Most highly recommended.
Most highly recommended.
December 2, 2020
A chicken does not speak of the day before. A chicken does not speak of tomorrow. A chicken speaks of this moment. I see this. I feel this. This is all there is. It stands to reason, then, that the sounds of a chicken are few, here and now accounting for so much of what a chicken has to say. The sounds do not misrepresent, are instead like a finger pointing, over and over.
I have kept chickens many years ago so was immediately attracted to this book and enjoyed it very much, though not entirely for the chicken-related reasons I expected to. The narrator does tell us a great deal about chicken antics and their vulnerability, but the fragility of human life looms large too in the shape of the unborn child she lost to miscarriage. Her attempts to protect her little brood in the hen house are especially poignant as a result, as are her sometimes seemingly off-the-wall thoughts and observations about the chickens, her husband and herself. A process of grief has to be worked through and a new start beckons. Thoroughly absorbing and to be recommended.
With thanks to Pan Macmillan, Picador via NetGalley for the opportunity to read an ARC.
I have kept chickens many years ago so was immediately attracted to this book and enjoyed it very much, though not entirely for the chicken-related reasons I expected to. The narrator does tell us a great deal about chicken antics and their vulnerability, but the fragility of human life looms large too in the shape of the unborn child she lost to miscarriage. Her attempts to protect her little brood in the hen house are especially poignant as a result, as are her sometimes seemingly off-the-wall thoughts and observations about the chickens, her husband and herself. A process of grief has to be worked through and a new start beckons. Thoroughly absorbing and to be recommended.
With thanks to Pan Macmillan, Picador via NetGalley for the opportunity to read an ARC.
August 1, 2022
such a gentle book. i liked that
October 3, 2022
Muy original y, sobre todo al principio, deliciosamente bien escrito (después se pone un poco disperso). Tiene un tono tan íntimo que cuesta no creer que es un autobiografía y está llena de detalles sutiles que la hacen a una sentir como si estuviera viviendo esa experiencia con la protagonista.
Pero (spoiler) no me gustó nada que con las gallinas fuera como con la canción de "Yo tenía 10 perritos" y al final ninguna alcanzara a sobrevivir el año. Ella lo intenta, sí, y se nota que las quiere pero... sufrí con la disminución creciente y más todavía cuando, hacia el final del libro y después de todos los duelos, le ofrecen pollo y ella lo come SABIENDO que provienen del mismo animal, portador de las mismas emociones y sentimientos, y su única explicación al respecto es "prefiero no pensar en ello". Sé que mucha gente hace lo mismo, pero... ella había hecho ya la conexión con las gallinitas, las había cuidado, las había apreciado, había luchado por ellas, habían sido parte de su familia. Me cuesta aceptar que le hayan importado al final tan poco o, peor, que le hayan importado pero luego igual no hubiera servido de nada.
El libro es bueno, eso sí. Le habría dado cuatro estrellas si no hubiera sido por eso último. Original, agridulce, tragicómico, muy humano, y pasa mucho más en él que meramente las gallinitas. Encontré que era muy especial, pero es más de esos libritos reflexivos y un tanto poéticos que una novela de muchos acontecimientos. O sea que no para todo el mundo.
Unas pocas citas:
1.
El bebedero con dispensador contiene tres partes de agua, suficiente para tres días y, en ausencia de ratones, el comedero da para una semana entera. Los ratones nunca están ausentes, han estado bien presentes desde el momento en que vertí cuatro sacos de veinte kilos de pienso granulado y mezcla de semillas en un contenedor de plástico en el garaje; la colisión del grano en movimiento fue un canto de sirena para todos los ratones del vecindario. La hambruna había terminado.
Es imposible saber cuánta comida pueden llegar a almacenar los ratones en sus escondrijos a lo largo de una semana. A pesar de las muchas medidas que hemos tomado para erradicarlos de una vez por todas, los ratones campan a sus anchas, y las aves cantoras se cuelan a través de huecos del tamaño de una nuez, y las ardillas entran por la trampilla apoyándose sobre los cuartos traseros, erguidas, en un desfilo regio. Lo mismo que los conejos que rondan las lechugas, rollizos y lentos como orondos duendes de jardín. No hay manera de calcular las necesidades de nuestras gallinas con tantas bocas que alimentar y tanto grano que cae al suelo.
2.
Percy y yo llevamos a Gam Gam, congelada y glaseada en plástico fino, a la clínica veterinaria universitaria. Cuando por fin atravesamos los infinitos pasillos desinfectados con lejía y llegamos a la unidad de diagnóstico, su cuerpo estaba blando y mojado. Abonamos quinientos dólares para asombrarnos ante la tierna edad del facultativo, quien nos informó de que las pruebas no habían revelado nada en absoluto. Es un pequeño aunque costoso consuelo constatar que nuestra ignorancia va a la par con la ignorancia imperante a nuestro alrededor.
- Era mi gallina preferida - dijo Percy.
- Yo no tengo preferida - respondí yo, aunque había sido Gam Gam.
3.
En la medida de mis posibilidades, mantengo a las gallinas alejadas de la muerte. Pero la pura realidad es que las gallinas son de constitución delicada. A las gallinas les traen sin cuidado mis gestos en pro de la vida en un sentido tradicional, pero las más de veces no mueren, que es la forma más primitiva de gratitud.
De esto no se desprende que las gallinas mueran como muestra de ingratitud. Nadie sabe por qué mueren las gallinas.
4.
La limpieza no me entusiasma, pero tiene momentos de gran alivio semejantes al júbilo: el brillo de un espejo restaurado, el pelo rehabilitado de una alfombra, la revelación de un suelo blanco. Restaurar, rehabilitar, revelar. Pensamos en la limpieza como un regreso al orden cuando en realidad se trata de un orden nuevo y pasajero. Cuando dejan de observarse resultados en la limpieza es el momento de parar.
Pero (spoiler) no me gustó nada que con las gallinas fuera como con la canción de "Yo tenía 10 perritos" y al final ninguna alcanzara a sobrevivir el año. Ella lo intenta, sí, y se nota que las quiere pero... sufrí con la disminución creciente y más todavía cuando, hacia el final del libro y después de todos los duelos, le ofrecen pollo y ella lo come SABIENDO que provienen del mismo animal, portador de las mismas emociones y sentimientos, y su única explicación al respecto es "prefiero no pensar en ello". Sé que mucha gente hace lo mismo, pero... ella había hecho ya la conexión con las gallinitas, las había cuidado, las había apreciado, había luchado por ellas, habían sido parte de su familia. Me cuesta aceptar que le hayan importado al final tan poco o, peor, que le hayan importado pero luego igual no hubiera servido de nada.
El libro es bueno, eso sí. Le habría dado cuatro estrellas si no hubiera sido por eso último. Original, agridulce, tragicómico, muy humano, y pasa mucho más en él que meramente las gallinitas. Encontré que era muy especial, pero es más de esos libritos reflexivos y un tanto poéticos que una novela de muchos acontecimientos. O sea que no para todo el mundo.
Unas pocas citas:
1.
El bebedero con dispensador contiene tres partes de agua, suficiente para tres días y, en ausencia de ratones, el comedero da para una semana entera. Los ratones nunca están ausentes, han estado bien presentes desde el momento en que vertí cuatro sacos de veinte kilos de pienso granulado y mezcla de semillas en un contenedor de plástico en el garaje; la colisión del grano en movimiento fue un canto de sirena para todos los ratones del vecindario. La hambruna había terminado.
Es imposible saber cuánta comida pueden llegar a almacenar los ratones en sus escondrijos a lo largo de una semana. A pesar de las muchas medidas que hemos tomado para erradicarlos de una vez por todas, los ratones campan a sus anchas, y las aves cantoras se cuelan a través de huecos del tamaño de una nuez, y las ardillas entran por la trampilla apoyándose sobre los cuartos traseros, erguidas, en un desfilo regio. Lo mismo que los conejos que rondan las lechugas, rollizos y lentos como orondos duendes de jardín. No hay manera de calcular las necesidades de nuestras gallinas con tantas bocas que alimentar y tanto grano que cae al suelo.
2.
Percy y yo llevamos a Gam Gam, congelada y glaseada en plástico fino, a la clínica veterinaria universitaria. Cuando por fin atravesamos los infinitos pasillos desinfectados con lejía y llegamos a la unidad de diagnóstico, su cuerpo estaba blando y mojado. Abonamos quinientos dólares para asombrarnos ante la tierna edad del facultativo, quien nos informó de que las pruebas no habían revelado nada en absoluto. Es un pequeño aunque costoso consuelo constatar que nuestra ignorancia va a la par con la ignorancia imperante a nuestro alrededor.
- Era mi gallina preferida - dijo Percy.
- Yo no tengo preferida - respondí yo, aunque había sido Gam Gam.
3.
En la medida de mis posibilidades, mantengo a las gallinas alejadas de la muerte. Pero la pura realidad es que las gallinas son de constitución delicada. A las gallinas les traen sin cuidado mis gestos en pro de la vida en un sentido tradicional, pero las más de veces no mueren, que es la forma más primitiva de gratitud.
De esto no se desprende que las gallinas mueran como muestra de ingratitud. Nadie sabe por qué mueren las gallinas.
4.
La limpieza no me entusiasma, pero tiene momentos de gran alivio semejantes al júbilo: el brillo de un espejo restaurado, el pelo rehabilitado de una alfombra, la revelación de un suelo blanco. Restaurar, rehabilitar, revelar. Pensamos en la limpieza como un regreso al orden cuando en realidad se trata de un orden nuevo y pasajero. Cuando dejan de observarse resultados en la limpieza es el momento de parar.
March 9, 2021
2.5 Stars
Thank you #NetGalley @DoubleDayBooks for a complimentary e arc of #Brood to review upon my request. All opinions are my own.
In Brood, an unidentified female narrator cares for a small brood of chickens. She describes the challenges of bad weather, predators, and inexperience. The story is comprised of observations of ordinary, daily life with a few reflections.
Brood is beautifully written with some lovely prose and features a unique premise. However, my reading experience was a bit perplexing because I kept thinking of it as a journal (nonfiction) when it is actually fiction. Also, because this is described as having rich reflections, I went into the read expecting more reflection. Rather than reflections, we get observations of every-day life routines in journal style writing. From the beginning, I was confused about the genre and the author’s purpose.
Readers who appreciate character-driven stories featuring plentiful observations of daily life might really like Brood. I have been known to appreciate a character-driven story, but I need a small plot to keep me turning pages. Wondering whether the chickens would live or die was the most intriguing part.
Although parts of the story were interesting, I had difficulty connecting with it overall. I can connect with the task of caring for creatures in a general sense, but I felt little emotional connection with the narrator, her grief, miscarriage, household concerns, or her impending move. I do have chicken memories of visiting my grandma’s farm and watching her chase a chicken around the yard, wringing its neck, and chopping its head off. Then she’d plop the chicken into the kitchen sink and pluck the feathers. I can still vividly recall the smell of wet chicken feathers. I don’t remember having many experiences caring for chickens; however, I do remember being pecked on the nose once while gathering eggs! I can imagine if you’ve raised chickens or have been around them that you might enjoy parts of this story.
Other readers have loved Brood. The person who recommended this to me reported that it would likely be her best read of the year. Every person has a unique reading experience and no two people read the same book. Fans of observational, character-driven stories and chicken owners might love this! Also, it is well written. I encourage you to check out more reviews.
For more reviews visit my blog www.readingladies.com (where this review was first published).
Thank you #NetGalley @DoubleDayBooks for a complimentary e arc of #Brood to review upon my request. All opinions are my own.
In Brood, an unidentified female narrator cares for a small brood of chickens. She describes the challenges of bad weather, predators, and inexperience. The story is comprised of observations of ordinary, daily life with a few reflections.
Brood is beautifully written with some lovely prose and features a unique premise. However, my reading experience was a bit perplexing because I kept thinking of it as a journal (nonfiction) when it is actually fiction. Also, because this is described as having rich reflections, I went into the read expecting more reflection. Rather than reflections, we get observations of every-day life routines in journal style writing. From the beginning, I was confused about the genre and the author’s purpose.
Readers who appreciate character-driven stories featuring plentiful observations of daily life might really like Brood. I have been known to appreciate a character-driven story, but I need a small plot to keep me turning pages. Wondering whether the chickens would live or die was the most intriguing part.
Although parts of the story were interesting, I had difficulty connecting with it overall. I can connect with the task of caring for creatures in a general sense, but I felt little emotional connection with the narrator, her grief, miscarriage, household concerns, or her impending move. I do have chicken memories of visiting my grandma’s farm and watching her chase a chicken around the yard, wringing its neck, and chopping its head off. Then she’d plop the chicken into the kitchen sink and pluck the feathers. I can still vividly recall the smell of wet chicken feathers. I don’t remember having many experiences caring for chickens; however, I do remember being pecked on the nose once while gathering eggs! I can imagine if you’ve raised chickens or have been around them that you might enjoy parts of this story.
Other readers have loved Brood. The person who recommended this to me reported that it would likely be her best read of the year. Every person has a unique reading experience and no two people read the same book. Fans of observational, character-driven stories and chicken owners might love this! Also, it is well written. I encourage you to check out more reviews.
For more reviews visit my blog www.readingladies.com (where this review was first published).
February 24, 2022
¿Puede un libro que habla casi exclusivamente de gallinas ser interesante, transmitir un cúmulo de emociones y ser capaz de removerte? Puede. Y Jackie Polzin nos lo demuestra con creces en un debut que me ha sorprendido mucho.
Aparentemente parece una historia sencilla, una mujer cuenta como es su vida y su rutina diaria en torno a sus cuatro gallinas. Son animales que necesitan muchos cuidados y ella intenta por todos los medios que no enfermen, que sobrevivan al invierno, al verano, a todos los peligros que las acechan, a veces rozando incluso la obsesión. Mientras las observa y las cuida va dejando caer también pinceladas de su propia vida, la relación con su madre, su pareja, su mejor amiga y sus vecinos. Y así, mientras la vamos conociendo, a cuenta gotas, casi sin darnos cuenta, descubrimos que aquí hay mucho más de lo que a simple vista parecía al principio.
Si lees entre líneas encontrarás un duelo aún en proceso y una sensación continua de soledad, hay muchas cosas que no dice pero se intuyen. La narración es sutil y además tiene un toque de humor/ironía que me ha gustado mucho, le quita dramatismo y yo eso lo agradezco.
Podría decirse que las gallinas son la "excusa" para contar esta historia, y también son la escapatoria de la protagonista para gestionar su pérdida, a través de su cuidado proyecta en ellas lo que no ha superado, sus miedos, inseguridades, deseos...
Quizá no sea un libro para todo el mundo, pero a mí me ha parecido una muy buena manera de exponer un tema así, desde luego original y diferente. Si os gustan esas historias en las que parece que no pasa nada pero en las que hay mucho bajo la superficie tenéis que darle una oportunidad. Y además, os aviso, vais a aprender un montón de datos sobre las gallinas que seguro que no sabíais. Nunca lo hubiera dicho, ¡pero la verdad es que me han parecido súper interesantes!
Aparentemente parece una historia sencilla, una mujer cuenta como es su vida y su rutina diaria en torno a sus cuatro gallinas. Son animales que necesitan muchos cuidados y ella intenta por todos los medios que no enfermen, que sobrevivan al invierno, al verano, a todos los peligros que las acechan, a veces rozando incluso la obsesión. Mientras las observa y las cuida va dejando caer también pinceladas de su propia vida, la relación con su madre, su pareja, su mejor amiga y sus vecinos. Y así, mientras la vamos conociendo, a cuenta gotas, casi sin darnos cuenta, descubrimos que aquí hay mucho más de lo que a simple vista parecía al principio.
Si lees entre líneas encontrarás un duelo aún en proceso y una sensación continua de soledad, hay muchas cosas que no dice pero se intuyen. La narración es sutil y además tiene un toque de humor/ironía que me ha gustado mucho, le quita dramatismo y yo eso lo agradezco.
Podría decirse que las gallinas son la "excusa" para contar esta historia, y también son la escapatoria de la protagonista para gestionar su pérdida, a través de su cuidado proyecta en ellas lo que no ha superado, sus miedos, inseguridades, deseos...
Quizá no sea un libro para todo el mundo, pero a mí me ha parecido una muy buena manera de exponer un tema así, desde luego original y diferente. Si os gustan esas historias en las que parece que no pasa nada pero en las que hay mucho bajo la superficie tenéis que darle una oportunidad. Y además, os aviso, vais a aprender un montón de datos sobre las gallinas que seguro que no sabíais. Nunca lo hubiera dicho, ¡pero la verdad es que me han parecido súper interesantes!
August 6, 2022
I was looking forward to this book as it had been recommended by a number of people that I respect, but ultimately I found it disappointing. It is not a bad book by any means, but it is neither as touching or profound as I was lead to believe.
I love the concept behind this book. A woman in Minnesota cares for chickens as a kind of personal therapy in response to grief. That alone tells you this is not a hugely plot driven book. Things happen certainly, but this is more a character study. The text focuses on small moments and flashes of insight into her life. This by itself is not a bad thing, but when the insights don't add up to anything I would deem as substantial, then I take issue with it.
Part of my problem with this book is the writing style. The writer's sentences seem to get away from her, and many times throughout I had to reread to make sure I understand what was being said. I found this annoying, when a story like this seems better served by very clean and simple prose. That said, there are some amazing passages of beauty here.
Overall, this book is fine, but not mindblowing. It's brevity might make it worth a read for those interested in a nuanced character study.
I love the concept behind this book. A woman in Minnesota cares for chickens as a kind of personal therapy in response to grief. That alone tells you this is not a hugely plot driven book. Things happen certainly, but this is more a character study. The text focuses on small moments and flashes of insight into her life. This by itself is not a bad thing, but when the insights don't add up to anything I would deem as substantial, then I take issue with it.
Part of my problem with this book is the writing style. The writer's sentences seem to get away from her, and many times throughout I had to reread to make sure I understand what was being said. I found this annoying, when a story like this seems better served by very clean and simple prose. That said, there are some amazing passages of beauty here.
Overall, this book is fine, but not mindblowing. It's brevity might make it worth a read for those interested in a nuanced character study.
January 9, 2021
3.5 rounded down
Ostensibly a novel following a woman and her husband raising their four chickens, Brood is more accurately about what it means (and what it takes) to be a mother whilst facing the challenges that life presents us.
The writing style is somewhat straightforward and spare, which is not to say that there's not skill at work here, just that the words succinctly relay the quiet insights our nameless protagonist gains through her four charges. The theme of motherhood is addressed in the context of her own miscarriage, and the grief she experiences in the wake of this, and I found that the author handled these delicate topics very well. A quiet novel finding beauty and sadness in the mundane events of life.
Thank you Netgalley and Pan Macmillan for the advance copy, which was provided in exchange for an honest review.
Ostensibly a novel following a woman and her husband raising their four chickens, Brood is more accurately about what it means (and what it takes) to be a mother whilst facing the challenges that life presents us.
The writing style is somewhat straightforward and spare, which is not to say that there's not skill at work here, just that the words succinctly relay the quiet insights our nameless protagonist gains through her four charges. The theme of motherhood is addressed in the context of her own miscarriage, and the grief she experiences in the wake of this, and I found that the author handled these delicate topics very well. A quiet novel finding beauty and sadness in the mundane events of life.
Thank you Netgalley and Pan Macmillan for the advance copy, which was provided in exchange for an honest review.
July 12, 2021
Not hopeful. Not wryly funny. Not full of joy and wisdom.
Nope, nope, nope, and nope.
Bleak, depressing, tedious?
Yep, yep, and yep.
I should've realized when it felt difficult to get going on this book yesterday and I put it down with the beginnings of a headache that we were not a match made in heaven. And when I passed out twice from sheer boredom from trying to finish it this afternoon, I should've had the good sense to just put it down and go on with my life. But, no. I persevered. And wound up with another headache.
Sigh.
To its credit, Brood is very thoughtful and literary, just rife with metaphor and simile and symbolism and layers and layers of The Important Unsaid. The exact kind of stuff that is _completely_ wasted on yours truly, The Philistine Next Door.
I mean, it might as well be a Booker Award winner, I hated it that much.
My hat is off to Jackie Polzin for writing a novel, though. And I know I'm very much in the minority with this opinion.
Onward....but first, a spoiler..........
SPOILER ALERT.....SCROLL DOWN
KEEP SCROLLING
KEEP SCROLLING
KEEP SCROLLING
ACTUAL SPOILER
I don't want anyone who knows me personally to think I reacted so negatively to this book because it dealt with infertility. I have read many books that did since my own struggles began/were ongoing/concluded (quite sadly), and either found them to be really good or just OK. Nope, my reaction here is to:
-The writing. It's that style that quite literally hurts my brain.
-The bleakness of the setting. (I wanted to hang myself with my own hair at the descriptions of the woman's neighborhood.)
- The weirdness of the main character's relationships with, well, everybody: Her husband (what a right prat), her mother, her friend, hell, even the chickens.
I would wrap up here with something either witty and/or meaningful, but instead I think I'm just going to go upstairs and wash off the layer of grim I acquired while spending time in a chicken coop.
And no, I didn't mean grime.
Nope, nope, nope, and nope.
Bleak, depressing, tedious?
Yep, yep, and yep.
I should've realized when it felt difficult to get going on this book yesterday and I put it down with the beginnings of a headache that we were not a match made in heaven. And when I passed out twice from sheer boredom from trying to finish it this afternoon, I should've had the good sense to just put it down and go on with my life. But, no. I persevered. And wound up with another headache.
Sigh.
To its credit, Brood is very thoughtful and literary, just rife with metaphor and simile and symbolism and layers and layers of The Important Unsaid. The exact kind of stuff that is _completely_ wasted on yours truly, The Philistine Next Door.
I mean, it might as well be a Booker Award winner, I hated it that much.
My hat is off to Jackie Polzin for writing a novel, though. And I know I'm very much in the minority with this opinion.
Onward....but first, a spoiler..........
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ACTUAL SPOILER
I don't want anyone who knows me personally to think I reacted so negatively to this book because it dealt with infertility. I have read many books that did since my own struggles began/were ongoing/concluded (quite sadly), and either found them to be really good or just OK. Nope, my reaction here is to:
-The writing. It's that style that quite literally hurts my brain.
-The bleakness of the setting. (I wanted to hang myself with my own hair at the descriptions of the woman's neighborhood.)
- The weirdness of the main character's relationships with, well, everybody: Her husband (what a right prat), her mother, her friend, hell, even the chickens.
I would wrap up here with something either witty and/or meaningful, but instead I think I'm just going to go upstairs and wash off the layer of grim I acquired while spending time in a chicken coop.
And no, I didn't mean grime.
April 1, 2021
If I'm being hideously honest, this is the type of literary fiction I'm willing to look at because it's relatively short. Sure, it's getting rave reviews everywhere, but at the end of the day, it's a novel about a woman keeping chickens.
And that's the first thing... As I started reading, I had to keep reminding myself it was a novel. Because the voice of the first person protagonist was so clear and so authentic, I kept feeling like it was a memoir. Not a fancy, dramatic memoir, just a beautifully rendered story of an everywoman. This nice, decent woman who's just trying to care for her tiny, little brood of really stupid chickens.
And in a million years, I would never believe how tender this story could be. Having reached the end, I find myself surprising moved, and a little emotional. Her protagonist has a great voice. And, yes, there is certainly humor. But this is a novel about home and family and motherhood and love--and chickens. The writing in this debut is assured and auspicious. What an unexpected pleasure! I love it when it works out this way.
And that's the first thing... As I started reading, I had to keep reminding myself it was a novel. Because the voice of the first person protagonist was so clear and so authentic, I kept feeling like it was a memoir. Not a fancy, dramatic memoir, just a beautifully rendered story of an everywoman. This nice, decent woman who's just trying to care for her tiny, little brood of really stupid chickens.
And in a million years, I would never believe how tender this story could be. Having reached the end, I find myself surprising moved, and a little emotional. Her protagonist has a great voice. And, yes, there is certainly humor. But this is a novel about home and family and motherhood and love--and chickens. The writing in this debut is assured and auspicious. What an unexpected pleasure! I love it when it works out this way.
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