Ich hatte mehr von diesem Buch erwartet. Zudem ist der Klappentext irreführend. ( )

I don’t really write reviews but this book made me feel something. A variety of emotions. As though I had experienced all that Elaine experienced. Atwood is a master of her craft. ( )

I was pleased to discover this book at a book fair last year as it is one of Atwood's earlier novels. It has the ring of truth about it and I soon found that there is a common theme with the author's own life, especially the early years.
The book moves between two timelines. In the 1980's, Elaine Risley is returning to Toronto for the opening of her art exhibition. Now about 50, she is confronted with the memories of her childhood lived in this city. Her first 10 years were very transient as her father an entomologist spent much time in the wilderness researching and collecting samples for his studies. His family went with him, his wife, son and daughter. This reflects the author's own childhood. The mother home schooled the children and it wasn't until her father accepted a teaching post, at the university, that they lived in a house which was still in the process of being completed and attended school. The story looks at her overtures to be accepted by a group of girls but the reader soon realises, as does Elaine, that she is being manipulated and bullied. The story follows her development until she decides to become a painter. Her art reflects, in a surrealist style, several of her early relationships and like much in the 60's and 70's also has a growing feminist theme. I found myself wanting to see these pieces of art even though they would be imaginary.
I found in this book, a real connection, like other books of her early writing years. That sense when you return to the place you grew up after a long absence and everything has changed and it now only exists in your own memories. A very thought provoking book in so many ways. ( )

This is one of the most depressing books ever. The writing is so good that your heart utterly breaks for the little girl being bullied by her friends and turning into a nervous wreck. When I say depressing, I mean I wanted to curl up in my room and give up altogether, I was mean to my spouse and had stopped doing homework or housecleaning. I could not take it. ( )

This was a beautiful meditation on identity and memory, as well as a very honest portrait of childhood. Atwood's writing always astonishes.

I thought the engrossing opening and heart-wrenching middle were stronger than the ending, maybe because I wasn't totally satisfied how Cordelia starts as this symbol of tormented girlhood but is then unveiled as a very real person with (somewhat boring) motivations. The narrative arc seems to be "formative childhood experiences can be catastrophic, but then we get over them" - which is true, but maybe not very interesting. ( )