January 4, 2011

The Crazy Man by Pamela Porter

The novel is made up of stanzas which run from around four to five lines. The vocabulary is so elementary yet poetic. When I was reading it, I was sure that the author writes poetry. Indeed, she does. When used with skill, simple words are gracefully powerful. Like this passage:

    “That day built a room inside my head

Where we all live—Daddy, Prince, Mum and me.

I want to build a door for that room

so I can shut it off,

and if I think about it real hard, maybe

I can build that door.

Because that day’s living in my brain now,

And it’s all colored red.”

The whole book is full of delightful metaphors such as this one. I just had to stop and chew over them, eyes bright. If Anne of Green Gable ever read this book, strings of ecstatic praises would sure flow from her lips. Her imagination is so romantic. Well, back to the novel, I especially like its subject: the bonding of a social outcast with a child. How to conclude a book review? I need to work on this one….

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Personal Category: 書[英] Topic: feeling / personal / murmur
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