The original text seems a bit unclear. However, I'll do my best to rewrite and expand it based on what I can understand.

**Original text**: 4.75 ish

**Expanded text**:
The number 4.75 is an approximate value. It could potentially refer to a measurement, a score, or some other quantity that is not exact.

When we say "4.75 ish", we are indicating that the actual value is close to 4.75 but may vary slightly.

This kind of approximation is often used in situations where a precise measurement is not necessary or when there is some degree of uncertainty.

For example, if we are estimating the length of an object and we measure it to be around 4.75 inches, we might say "4.75 ish" to convey that the measurement is not exact but is within a reasonable range.

In conclusion, "4.75 ish" is a way of expressing an approximate value that gives us a general idea of the quantity in question.

It remains fantastically sarcastic, although I didn't like it as much as "Pequeñas desgracias sin importancia". Next month, she will release "No dejar que se apague el fuego" with Sexto Piso. I'm looking forward to seeing what kind of work this will be. Will it continue the sarcastic style? Or will there be some new changes? Only time will tell. I hope she can bring us more surprises. Ganass.

Is this the same author who penned All My Puny Sorrows?

This question has been lingering in my mind. The work "All My Puny Sorrows" is a remarkable piece of literature that has left a profound impact on many readers.

I am currently in a state of uncertainty regarding this matter. I need some time to conduct further research and investigation.

For now, I am going to put this on hold for a few weeks. During this time, I hope to gather more information and gain a better understanding of the author's body of work.

Perhaps I will discover some new insights or connections that will help me answer this question once and for all.

Until then, I will continue to explore the world of literature and keep an open mind.

When I was a child, I would go into the fields and pretend to be a scarecrow. Pretending to be something else is a sin, but I always liked to stand still in a field. And often the Mennonites would turn a blind eye to the sins committed in the name of agriculture. Agriculture is very important to us. Very important.

When I was little at Sunday school, we played a game, although we didn't call it a game but an activity. The teacher would do a skit in which she played different roles. First, she was Professor Knuf, and he wasn't allowed to get on the train to heaven. Then she was a rock singer, Rhonda, and she wasn't allowed either. The next Sunday, she was Sam the baseball player, and again he couldn't get on. Finally, she was Fred the farmer, and at this point, he got on because he had accepted Jesus into his heart. It was a fun game. We all clapped our hands, and then we drew the other three crying at the gates of heaven and Fred on the train emitting bright rays as he passed. I had fun drawing Rhonda in hot pants and a cigarette smeared with lipstick hanging from her lips. Next to her, I drew the baseball player about to hit her on the head, and a thought bubble coming out of his mouth that said "Shame on you!". I didn't really understand why Professor Knuf wasn't admitted, maybe because he was a scientist and believed in facts and figures.

I had also thought of giving Fred the farmer a thought bubble with the words "Burn, Knuf, burn!", but then I realized he would enjoy it too much, and whether he was a farmer or not, in heaven, one certainly doesn't go to have fun.

One afternoon when I was being a scarecrow in my grandmother's beet field, I noticed two black dresses, those ugly black polyester dresses that many old women in our town wear every day, fluttering in the sky like giant birds near the water cistern. I didn't immediately realize they were dresses. I stood watching them as they flew towards my grandmother's courtyard. I was amazed that they flew side by side, and I thought it was beautiful because it was like a ballet. They moved in a crazy, free, wonderful way until one of them fell on the roof of the barn and the other, gliding with spectacular slowness, landed at my feet. It was one of the most beautiful things that had ever happened to me, watching the wild dance of those two dresses in the wind.

The one lying limp on the ground next to me seemed like a kind of sacred object. I didn't touch it, but with my foot, I pushed some dirt over it and then put a stone on top of the dirt. I said goodbye to it like a little child who doesn't understand the difference between a dress and a person, and I completely ignored the one on the roof of the barn. It could still be there.

How do you extricate yourself from a bad situation when you're not even aware that it's bad? Or what if you have no idea what else lies beyond? Toews presents her story through the eyes of Nomi Nickel, a 15-year-old girl residing in the small Mennonite community of East Village, MB.

In this community, upon graduating from high school, one can either work at the Mennonite tourist museum or the local chicken slaughterhouse. Death is regarded as the ultimate objective, and many Mennonites long for its early arrival. The fear-inducing Menno preacher, known as 'The Mouth,' causes young children to experience recurring night terrors of their family members being burned in the eternal fires of Hell. Teenagers engage in drug use and sexual activities merely to pass the time until they die or obtain a job at the chicken abattoir. Everyone knows everyone else's affairs, and everyone is related. These facts can either work in your favor or against you, depending on who needs to blackmail whom.

When Nomi's older sister departs from East Village, her family is abandoned by the church. Her mother is excommunicated for some mysterious reason (which may or may not be related to her contact with her own daughter in the outside world). While the church leaders determine the ultimate fate of her family, Nomi and her father teeter on the brink of acceptance. Nomi begins to assemble all the elements of this religion that have never made sense to her. She vacillates between following her heart (Travis) or following her mind. She struggles to comprehend how the rest of the world functions and desperately desires to see and experience it for herself. Eventually, the situation reaches a tipping point, and Nomi knows precisely what to do and how to do it with confidence.

I adored the manner in which Toews tells this story. It is neither strictly chronological nor entirely random. She delicately reveals each piece of Nomi's puzzle, making you feel as if you already knew it. We glide smoothly from the past to the present, as if the past is deeply ingrained in our own memories.

It would have received 5 stars, but I simply cannot tolerate it when authors choose not to use quotation marks for dialogue! Seriously! They are an invention that has withstood the test of time. Use them!

You have taught me that some people leave and others don't.

And those who leave are always more beautiful than those who stay.

And I am one of those who stay because you are one of those who have left.

And there is an old man sitting in an empty house in a suit and tie who has no one left but me.

Thanks a lot, eh, really thanks.

This experience has made me realize that life is full of changes and losses.

Sometimes we have to let go of the people we love and move on.

But even though you are gone, you will always have a special place in my heart.

I will always remember the good times we had together and cherish the memories.

And I will try to be stronger and more independent, just like the old man sitting alone in the empty house.

Maybe one day, we will meet again and things will be different.

But until then, I will keep moving forward and make the most of my life.

The narrator’s voice in this novel had an immediate charm that hooked me from the start.

We are introduced to a teenager girl who shares the details of her life in a Mennonite community. She has her fair share of problems. Her mother and older sister have left town, leaving her to handle her sad dad, Ray, in a strict and repressive fundamentalist village. Young Nomi doesn’t believe in any of the rigid ways of the community but somehow manages to stumble along. She tries to keep herself entertained in the typical teenaged ways, although these are modified to suit the limited opportunities available in such a place.

She and her boyfriend have their own set of adventures. They ride around in his old car, racing farm dogs, sticking messages onto cows, jumping out of trees, or throwing dirt at the crows. These simple activities bring them some moments of joy in their otherwise ordinary lives. However, she has little to look forward to except a life-long career at the chicken abattoir, which is the main industry in East Village, Manitoba.

As I was reading through the book, I initially thought there was no clear plot. But just when I was about to give up on the characters and the story, they surprised me. The humorous exchanges between Nomi and her dad, like the one about the dump, added a light-hearted touch to the narrative.

At the end of the chapter about the dump, there is an event that reveals the true nature of Ray’s depression and his way of coping with loss and sadness. Nomi also realizes this, which in turn deepens our understanding of their relationship. Their attempts to support each other, despite the awkwardness, become a central theme of the story.

The odd relationships of the other characters to each other and to the community, along with the community’s weirdness, also seem to be an important aspect of the story.

The end of the book took an unexpected turn regarding the teacher, Mr. Quiring. This plot twist came out of nowhere, and I was left wondering if I had missed some crucial clues earlier. However, the real focus of the ending was on Nomi and her future.

Despite her ongoing confusion about what lies ahead, there is a glimmer of hope. I had the sense that she would be okay as she was determined to do her best, willing to move forward, and accept whatever the future holds. She is a truly lovable character, and this story, with its unique narration and engaging characters, is an entertaining read.

Overall, the book is interesting enough and the right length to keep the reader engaged. If you can appreciate the voice in which it is told and don’t have overly high expectations, you will enjoy this story.

I had high expectations of loving this novel more than I actually did. This was especially the case considering the ratings and reviews from some of my closest Goodreads friends. However, the story just didn't come together for me in the same way it did for others. If my real-life book club friends hadn't felt the same, I might have thought I was a broken reader. But, haHA, I'm not alone!

Nomi, the 16-year-old protagonist, lives in a Mennonite community in Canada. Her life isn't easy, and she's not afraid to admit it. It's easy to feel empathy for her when you consider the state of her family and how living in the community has affected its members. It's no wonder then that Nomi is a hard-smoking, precocious young woman.

Ordinarily, precocious narrators annoy me, but Nomi isn't too bad in that regard. I had a harder time with the attitude she displayed due to her sheltered life up to a certain point. But perhaps I'm being too hard on it and am too far removed from my own teenage years. (Oh, god, did I just say that?)

Nomi's "storytelling" or narration didn't bother me. However, I had difficulty following the timeline and motivations of some of the characters. I'm not sure if this was my fault (I've had a really rough week) or if Toews wrote with a lack of clarity or too much ambiguity. The fact that others in my book club had similar struggles made me realize it wasn't just me.

The book was fine, and I liked it. But I didn't love it, which is strange because I'm usually interested in stories about the awful effects of fundamental Christianity. Some of the things Nomi said really resonated with me, but unfortunately, it was a library copy that I had to return, so I can't pull quotes like I usually do. I know other readers love this book, and I'm sure many more will love it more than I did. But for me, I wanted something more, something better.

I still plan to read more by Toews, so if you have a favorite (besides this one), let me know so I can move it up on my list.

It was truly difficult to let this book come to an end. As the remaining pages dwindled away, I found myself increasingly occupied with other things instead of reading. Maybe I should brush my teeth. Maybe I should check my email. Maybe I should even go to sleep, despite having just ONE PAGE TO GO.

Part of the reason is that Miriam Toews is a genius when it comes to creating truly captivating characters. Nomi is a real gem. She's the kind of kid you've always wished you could be – funny, intelligent, sassy, resourceful, a world-class detector of bullshit, incredibly creative, sweet, loving, rebellious yet without angst, uncontrollable but without malice, both vulnerable and tough, and then vulnerable again. She's your ideal sister, your best friend, your most cherished child. Nomi is simply perfect.

Another aspect is that Miriam Toews writes like a deity. She really does. The thoughts she puts into Nomi's mind (Nomi being the first-person narrator) are so beautiful, original, and crazy that they make your jaw drop and your heart race. Every line is like poetry. Everything that passes through Nomi's mind is pure poetry.

At first, this book was a bit hard to understand. You see, Toews drops us right into the middle of Nomi's most nightmarish years in her über-hellish Mennonite town, a Canadian wasteland designed to strip its inhabitants of all joy and pleasure so that they can better appreciate the rewards of eternal life. Which makes no sense at all because if eternal life is truly what it's supposed to be, we wouldn't need any help to find it absolutely wonderful. Plus, quite frankly, this life is already rough enough without any additional encouragement.

But the leader of the local Mennonite community doesn't see it that way, and this leads the whole town into a state of highly schizophrenic behavior. While going to church and acting according to Menno's principles, they find ways to relieve the bleakness by getting drunk, getting stoned, and having crazy sex with each other. Especially the kids. When they get caught (or when their insubordination becomes too blatant to ignore), they get excommunicated, which means that the entire community, including their families, must act as if they no longer exist.

This absurd and cruel fact is crucial to the development of the novel and gives the characters the opportunity to show each other the complicated yet by no means negligible kindness that gives the novel its title.

As you can imagine, there's a fair amount of heartbreak in all this disappearing. Nomi and her dad, who are the only two family members left at the start of the novel, wade through the sadness, hopelessness, and desolation with a mutual tenderness that is all the more touching because it's muted, unspoken, and very reserved. Neither fully understands the other, and they both lead extremely independent lives (Ray is not quite a parent in the traditional sense), but they love and support each other and ultimately quite literally live for each other.

Since all of this – the bleakness, despair, and love – reaches us through Nomi's words, there are many moments of maximum, laugh-out-loud hilarity. This hilarity, along with the complicated kindness I described, makes this novel absolutely delightful, original, and a masterpiece of the human mind.

The novel "A Complicated Kindness" by Miriam Toews offers readers an intimate view of growing up in the religious Mennonite community of East Village. It centers around the life of 16-year-old Nomi Nickel. After the departure of her mother Trudie and older sister Tash, leaving only Nomi and her father, her family is shattered. This has a profound impact on Nomi, causing her to constantly replay the past and analyze the reasons for their departure. When not lost in thoughts of the past and hoping for their return, she spends time with her boyfriend Travis, staying out all night, visiting the pits, listening to music, and doing drugs.

Nomi is a rebellious teenager, filled with angst and emotion. She rebels against her religion by engaging in various activities such as doing drugs, wearing makeup and jewelry, listening to forbidden music, and having sexual experiences. However, through flashbacks, we can catch a glimpse of the innocent Mennonite girl she was before her family's destruction. The theme of religion plays a crucial role in the novel. It dictates every aspect of the Mennonites' lives, including their lifestyle, dress, behavior, personal relationships, and even the media they consume. Religion also significantly impacts Nomi and her family, ultimately causing the breakdown of the Nickel family.

The novel is narrated from the first-person perspective of Nomi Nickel, allowing the reader to access her thoughts and feelings. This unique narration style enables the reader to form a personal connection with Nomi and understand her struggles after being abandoned by her mother and sister. The use of flashbacks adds depth to the story, as Nomi analyzes past events to understand why her family left. Irony is present in the novel, as Nomi becomes the person she once feared her sister would be.

Overall, "A Complicated Kindness" is an easy-to-read and relatable novel. It allows readers to connect with the main character and understand her experiences. However, the lack of closure is a drawback, as many questions about Nomi's future and her relationship with her family remain unanswered. Despite this flaw, the novel is engaging and interesting, and I would rate it four out of five stars.

I'm going to refer to this as the 'chicken book'.

Required school reading

And I have finally completed the chicken book.

With books that I must read for school, I’m often at a loss when I’m asked how I feel about them personally.

I don’t know how I feel about the book, I don’t know how I feel about the characters, and I don’t know how I feel about the ending.

But I do think we all have a bit of Nomi in us.

Nomi’s a snarky, sarcastic, confused sixteen-year-old girl who’s just trying to find her place in life. Seeing the very in-depth details of her Mennonite village from her eyes really awakened something in me.

I find myself relating to Nomi quite a bit. Okay, maybe not the part where her mother and sister ran away, or the part where she smokes cigarettes religiously, or the part where she lives in a house where the furniture keeps diminishing. But the part where Nomi is just plain, old, lost Nomi.

I’m being generous with my rating here. It’s not because the book is bad, it’s because I was expecting more from it and I was disappointed I never really got the answers to my questions. (Maybe that’s supposed to be some ingenious writing style but pahleez, save that for the critics, this girl is just here to read).

“Is it wrong to trust in a beautiful lie if it helps you get through life?”

This book was actually hilarious in many ways. Nomi has this dark humour thing about her where she likes to focus on things that everyone else disregards and then twists it into some sarcastic remark.

I quite like Nomi.

But I felt the ending was lacking. My questions weren’t answered, I was only left more confused, and nothing was really tied together.

I’m gonna have to go make some character sketches now and philosophize about the themes and writing styles that were used in this book. But as a girl who just likes to read for fun, this book was surprisingly more than I expected.

“I wondered if a disease were to be named after me what the symptoms would be.”

2.75 stars!!

Obviously, this was a highly lauded book. However, I found it extremely difficult to establish an emotional connection with the narrator/protagonist, Nomi.

Nomi is a teenager who is growing up in a small Canadian Mennonite town known as East Village. Through the narrative, one gets the distinct impression that the town's dullness and religious strictness are slowly consuming many of its residents, especially the youth. They are engaging in self-destructive behaviors and/or going mad, and Nomi is no exception.

Nomi's mother and sister are excommunicated from the church one after the other and then flee the community, leaving Nomi to flounder even more. Her loveably eccentric dad, Ray (the only character I truly liked), also struggles to adapt, being torn between his love for his daughter and his love for the church.

It is a very sad book, and to me, Nomi's dark sarcastic humour did little to relieve the overall sadness.

In terms of tone and narrative style, it reminded me a great deal of Heather O'Neill's Lullabies for Little Criminals, which was also widely loved but which I also didn't care for. Meh.