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Because Neil Gaiman's new book is getting a lot of press coverage, I thought I'd check out his other work. This was the only Kindle version available from the library; it's a collection of short stories with a few poems thrown in. The tone reminded me of The Twilight Zone. My favorite story was an alternate version of the Snow White fable, told from the "evil stepmother's" point of view. I also liked "The Goldfish Pool and Other Stories," in which a first-time visitor to Los Angeles learns that "wherever you want to go, it's thirty minutes away." (Remember, this is fiction.)

Picked up as an Amazon freebie. Thought the story would focus more on Honolulu immediately after the bombing of Pearl Harbor; instead, the events unfolded through the point of view of a few characters in an isolated military community. I was jolted by several racist comments (to be expected, I suppose, given the time period).

Events are told from the alternating perspectives of a military wife and her five-year-old daughter. This was an interesting technique to illustrate how memories of the same events are perceived by different people. It's hard to say which version was "right"; although a reader may tend to discount the child's version because of her age, the mother was so preoccupied that her version may not be completely correct either.

Are there some things in life you wish you could do over?

The “plot” of a book can be defined as the sequence of events as presented by the author, and “story” would be the chronological timeline of these events (which may or may not be the same as the sequence presented by the plot).

Atkinson mixes-and-matches plot and story elements in this tale of Ursula Todd, whose births and childhoods and various deaths occur repeatedly. Instead of a linear story, Ursula’s existence appears to be a looped braid or perhaps a Möbius strip, with some elements remaining constant and some details (some subtle, some massive) changing from time to time. But beneath the gimmickry (think Groundhog Day), this is definitely a plotted book; there is a forward momentum even as Atkinson backtracks to tell alternate versions of Ursula’s life.

Is Ursula experiencing déjà vu, parallel universes, reincarnation, time travel, the exercise of free will over fate, or mental illness? Yes. No. Atkinson redefines what all of these terms could mean, and concludes that life consists of the choices we make.

Setting the novel in the first half of the 20th century provides much familiar historical context. Ursula lives (and dies) through World War I, Armistice Day, the flu epidemic, and World War II.

Some basic framework remains unchanged through each life: the family, the household help, the friends and neighbors. Parental figures include beloved father Hugh, opinionated mother Sylvie, aunt Izzie (the “bohemian” one), and benevolent older sister Pamela.

Ursula’s own turn at motherhood occurs during WWII, where her primary focus is on protecting her daughter. Interestingly, the child appears only in this life, which ends with a gorgeous scene that I don’t want to quote here for fear of spoiling the experience for future readers.

Ursula’s romantic relationships are less than fully developed. Some partners persist from lifetime to lifetime, and others (thankfully) are avoided. At least one “what if” scenario is played out (you know, the kind where an adolescent girl moons over some boy she doesn’t really know), and the reality turns out to be less than the imagined. (Not horrible—horrible belongs to a different partner; just less.)

A few observations about the writing style. Sometimes it felt like an exercise (“Come up with 10 ways to kill a character”); and since when is a comma splice acceptable? Early on, when Ursula died more often, it was almost comical (in a bleak sort of way) to have her die over and over. “Oh no,” I thought to myself. “Not again” (even though I knew that was the premise of the book).

I’d recommend this for book club. Even though it’s long (over 500 pages) it’s easy to read.

If you’re more comfortable with stories that depict conventional reality, this is probably not the book for you.

Additional thoughts, hidden to prevent spoilers

Dr. Kellet

Although father Hugh says Ursula is not “defective,” mother Sylvie says Ursula “needs a little fixing” and sends her to Dr. Kellet, a psychiatrist who introduces Ursula to the concepts of Buddhist reincarnation and amor fati, acceptance of one’s fate (what I would characterize as samatha, or calm abidance). Dr. Kellet is a pivotal influence on Ursula; she longs for his guidance several years after she stops seeing him, through several lifetimes, even though Dr. Kellet’s theories seem at odds with Ursula’s experience. He tells the preteen Ursula:

“Perhaps the part of your brain responsible for memory has a little flaw, a neurological problem that leads you to think that you are repeating experiences. As if something had got stuck.” She wasn’t really dying and being reborn, he said, she just thought she was. Ursula couldn’t see what the difference was.

Dr. Kellet continues: “Fate isn’t in your hands. That would be a very heavy burden for a little girl.” The little girl’s burdens are different from the grown-up Ursula’s burdens, so the young Ursula reacts differently, with more impulse, than does the adult, who is able to take a larger view of cause and effect.

I suspect that Dr. Kellet was a lasting influence because he was the only one to take Ursula seriously.

Through Ursula’s multiple lives, Dr. Kellet’s life does have at least one significant variation although he doesn’t seem to be aware of it. Is this change Ursula’s doing, or his own?

Other characters with do-overs?

Ursula gradually comes to realize that she can act to change events – but before she had this insight, how did she come to survive her infancy? My theory is that her mother, Sylvie, also believes in the power of free will. Several times, Sylvie quotes “Practice makes perfect,” and this line also closes out a section near the end of the book, when Sylvie is able to save the newborn Ursula’s life.

(However, an argument against Sylvie’s foreknowledge comes with this passage, when Ursula is a young adult:

Sylvie said, “In the end we all arrive at the same place. I hardly see that it matters how we get there.”

It seemed to Ursula that how you got there was the whole point.)

Perhaps Ursula’s brother Teddy has also figured out the process. Ursula tells him: “You just have to get on with life. We only have one after all, we should try and do our best. We can never get it right, but we must try.” Teddy responds: “What if we had a chance to do it again and again, until we finally get it right?” Turns out that he hasn’t died in WWII so maybe he has the chance for do-overs as well.

And Izzie, who appears to lead a charmed life. Is she getting multiple passes as well? She seems to travel effortlessly from shamed unwed mother to successful author.

Everyone seems to be waiting for something, Ursula thought. “Best not to wait,” Izzie said. “Best to do.”

I’m starting to see every character’s good fortune as a result of intention.

Characters without do-overs

Poor Mrs. Haddock. Her short scenes are identical. She has no insights and lives the exact same life, over and over. Perhaps she’s perfectly happy with everything the way it is – ignorance is bliss?

3 1/2 stars

Some beautiful prose in the first half of the book followed by some chapters that seemed to be "filler" material -- they could be removed and the primary thread would be just as good (maybe better).

The gimmick of this novel is that each chapter is told from a different character's point of view. The result is something more than a collection of short stories, but because the reader doesn't have much time with each character, the book ended up being less than the sum of its parts.

The gimmick worked very well when we are treated to the other side of a situation we've been introduced to previously, such as when we see Nila's side of the adoption storyline. However, the Markos/Thalia chapter didn't evoke any particular emotion in me.

I thought of starting this review by saying "Hi, I'm Kerry and I'm an introvert" but that's glibly disrespectful of people in 12-step (and other) programs, and besides, it perpetuates the bias against introversion. It's unfortunate that our society equates noise with quality.

This book ought to be read by those who tend toward the extroversion end of the scale. (I suspect that introverts would read this book and nod their heads, saying "Yep. Yep. True statement.")

I found the first half of the book very enjoyable. The exposé of Tony Robbins was entertaining and scary at the same time. He's figured out a way to monetize our society's discomfort with quiet! I also found it unsettling to read the portrait of Harvard Business School's uniform methodology.

I was less interested in the second half, which dealt with personal case studies.

I thought of starting this review by saying "Hi, I'm Kerry and I'm an introvert" but that's glibly disrespectful of people in 12-step (and other) programs, and besides, it perpetuates the bias against introversion. It's unfortunate that our society equates noise with quality.

This book ought to be read by those who tend toward the extroversion end of the scale. (I suspect that introverts would read this book and nod their heads, saying "Yep. Yep. True statement.")

I found the first half of the book very enjoyable. The exposé of Tony Robbins was entertaining and scary at the same time. He's figured out a way to monetize our society's discomfort with quiet! I also found it unsettling to read the portrait of Harvard Business School's uniform methodology.

I was less interested in the second half, which dealt with personal case studies.

Not as good as [b:Always Outnumbered Always Outgunned|84557|Always Outnumbered, Always Outgunned|Walter Mosley|http://d.gr-assets.com/books/1348622123s/84557.jpg|81620], but excellent anyway.

Socrates continues to be a tortured soul, but he's learning how to live in the world.

It's going to be difficult to write this review without coming across as a cold-hearted crank.

This just was not my kind of book.

The story was a little too “girly” for me.

Memories of the dead overshadowed everyone in the story, but I never really felt the depth of anyone’s character. Tom and Isabel, the protagonists, were faced with intense moral choices but I would have preferred getting more into their heads, rather than just reading about how they stared off into space. The final chapters had a lot of melodrama, including (cue dramatic music) a thunderstorm!

On the plus side, I “heard” the characters speaking with charming Australian accents.