In the end, the topic is less important than the quality of Ondaatje's writing. His auto-fiction romp through his family and their sordid and laugh-out-loud adventures on trips to his home in Sri Lanka in the 70s is spectacular. The prose is sharp, witty, biting, and unsparing. A welcome read in a year when I've been searching for more brilliance.

Just reread this. I read it a while ago, in college; I remembered the poetry in it, mostly. It's a hodgepodge of memory, emotion, and family history; though obviously a rather troubled family, also one written about with love and vividness. Ondaatje writes beautifully, and though at first it seems almost hagiographic, the darker undercurrents start showing soon enough.

Wonderful memoir and family history in Sri Lanka (Ceylon) where the talented author and poet grew up until age 11, when he moved to Toronto in 1962. The family had Dutch colonial roots from the 17th century, with a blending with Tamil and Sinhalese over the centuries. The narrative is a lovely blend of evocation of Michael's young life on a tea plantation and a reconstruction of the history and experiences of his grandparents and parents from the 1920's.

The life was mostly that of the privileged class, replete with lavish social gatherings, lots of dancing, gambling at the horse races, garden clubs, and travel between town and mountain estates ("from the twenties until the war, no one had to grow up"). There are plenty of colorful and funny family characters he brings to life, the typical tragedies, and outrageously absurd escapades brought on by his father's periodic alcoholic binges. There was also plenty of romance: "Love affairs rainbowed over marriages and lasted forever�so it often seemed that marriage was the greater infidelity". After his parents divorced, there were some financial constraints, as his father at one point resorted to chicken farming and his mother to managing motels or rooming houses.

Amid the vignettes, we get many mesmerizing stories, poetic interludes of memory, and a few full poems that reach for the essence of this unique tropical land. In the acknowledgments section, the author notes: "While all these names may give an air of authenticity, I must confess that the book is not a history but a portrait or 'gesture'. And if those listed above disapprove of the fictional air I apologize and can only say that in Sri Lanka a well-told lie is worth a thousand facts."

A lovely tease of a book. Part memoir and part atmospheric poetry, each chapter hints at an event or anecdote from Ontdaaje's ancestors' lives in Sri Lanka. Generations of expats and patriots come and go, shown to the reader in brief glimpses and short chapters of prose or poetry. The writing is, as always, lyrical, evokative, clever and beautiful, but at the end I found I wanted more. Gorgeous hints at abiding and neurotic family dynamics that skim across the surface of a deeper story. Sometimes I felt that the cleverness of the prose detracted from the substance of the story, and that in an effort to hint at too much Ontdaaje went into depth with too little.

Loved every word. But then he is one of my most loved authors. His family is rendered in careening and baffling details. Anecdotes turn hectic and fiction-like but always generous with affection. The Sri Lankan climate, the mossy jungle homes, the antics, the social flourishes of their lives, so vividly depicted, emerge, after all in all of Ondaatje's writings. A must read to grasp some of the foundations of his fabulous stories.

to me this is a perfect book

A nice, short, coming-home memoir that was also interspersed with lots poetic tangents. The book was nicely written at times and plodding at others, but it succeeded at recapturing a slice of time in South Asia when peoples lives (or at least people with relative wealth) were much more carefree than they are today. I had to remind myself this was nonfiction at times because of how colorful Ondaatje's family is. As someone who grew up with lots of Sri Lankan friends this book also provided a bit of insight into where some of them came from.

This is a small, jewel of a book. Absolutely luminous!

ok this is the most random and aimless collection of stories about the most frivolous events and unnecessary characters that I have ever encountered.

Ondaatje writes as beautifully as anyone I have ever read. He was born and spent his early years in Ceylon (Sri Lanka) until his parents divorced. His mother moved to Canada with the children when he was eight years old. Both parents’ families were among the wealthiest in Ceylon. Alcohol played a major role in destroying what otherwise could have been idyllic lives. Ondaatje went back to Sri Lanka twice after he was established as one of the world’s foremost writers of fiction, staying each time for two months, to recapture the lives of his parents. His descriptions of exotic Ceylon are extraordinary. His accounts of his parents are poignant and heart breaking.

Favorite lines:
1. "During certain hours, at certain years in our lives, we see ourselves as remnants from the earlier generations that were destroyed."
2. "No story is ever told just once."
3. "There is so much to know and we can only guess. Guess around him. To know him from these stray actions I am told about by those who loved him. And yet, he is still one of those books we long to read whose pages remain uncut."

some of the most beautiful writing