Unfortunately, I barely understood what was going on. Not my kind of book...

This is my favourite of Ondaatje's novels, and I am quite the Ondaatje fan, so. This is pomo in ways that are by now familiar: interested in collage-style historical documentation, nonlinear, imagistic, in opposition to grand narratives, obsessed with artistic creation, etc. And I love that stuff, because it is awesome. But what really makes this work is Ondaatje's prose, which is lush and visceral and delicious - he invests all of his characters with a specific kind of depth resultant from the lingering way he lets the narrative dwell upon them. I can't do it justice, really; you just have to read it. A long-time favourite.

A full five star endorsement for a novel that has a mesmeric, hallucinatory quality. Images as powerful and poignant as a dream, narrative that slips and weaves and ducks between people, places and time, and an impressive sweep of invention that catches the breath. Ondaatje uncovers the story of those whose labour created Toronto landmarks in the early twentieth century, deftly knitting up truth and myth, revealing the lives of those who were forgotten in the official version of history.

Actually, The English Patient is one of the few books in my reading life that I never finished. I don't think I ever really took note of the book until the film came out, so it must have been 1996, when we had just moved back to Germany from Austria, because I have a clear memory of trying to read it in bed on a mattress on the floor. With moving and coping with all that entails, I know I was only reading a few pages in bed at night before falling into a coma. After three weeks of this where it seemed to me that nothing whatever had happened, I gave up. I was amazed at how political In the Skin of a Lion is, I had Ondaatje down in my mind as a somewhat artsy poetic type that uses a lot of words to skirt the ineffable. How wrong I was.

I don't think I understood it, but it was fascinating nonetheless.

I haven't traced exactly when this became common, but at some point in the 20th century the vast majority of novelists—even while writing great works—forgot the art of ending a novel. Most of the time, I'm left with the sense that the novel simply ceases to continue instead of reach some actual ending. Ondaatje managed to write a novel all the way to its conclusion. He also wonderfully juxtaposes lush sentences containing perceptive metaphors with short, simple declarative sentences. My inclination with reading has always been towards the baroque & the excessive; writing that resembles the 'bee that has gathered too much honey': parenthetics, exclamations, & commas that multiply hydra-like. I have gained, however slowly, an appreciation for the honesty and confidence of the concise (in reading if not yet in writing).

It took me four years after finishing Coming Through Slaughter, another beautiful novel, to return to Ondaatje's writing but, if I am wiser now, it won't take that long to pick up his work again.

This was…. Interesting. Kinda hard to follow 99% of the time. It was written really artistically which was both interesting and incredibly annoying at the same time. I think I’d be more interested in the English patient so I will try that one next.

This is a very interesting novel, set primarily in Toronto of the 1920s. Patrick Lewis learns from his father the art of placing dynamite so as to dislodge logjams in rural Ontario. This is his tale, as he traces a mysterious, Hughes-like financier.

A nun falls from a bridge and is caught in mid-air by one of the workers. As soon as I found this I knew I'd read the novel before but I have no record of it. I loved every word, every page, every strand of the story this time round. Ondaatje is a poet and his language sings and soars.

This is primarily Patrick's story: Patrick who leaves his Ontario farm in the early 1900s to work on the tunnels, bridges and viaducts of Toronto. We also meet some of the characters who later appear in The English Patient (which I must also now read again.)

Patrick is an outsider among outsiders: his fellow workers are migrants, willing to do the dirty, poorly paid work to build a city. Ondaatje celebrates the workers who toil away, unseen by the rich and powerful. As readers, we smell their sweat, feel their fear, join their celebrations. We also come to know the women Patrick loves - Clara, a millionaire's lover and the actress Alice, who remains an enigmatic but compelling figure. Alice challenges Patrick's lack of political awareness and forces him to beliefs and actions that carry the narrative forward.

There is much that we do not understand - we have to work at our reading and hold multiple impressions and narrative strands in our minds at the same time. About halfway through the book comes this: " The first sentence of every novel should be, 'Trust me, this will take time but there is order here, very faint, very human." As readers of this novel we have to trust Ondaatje to tell his story in his own time, while he spins his word magic. It's worth every minute.

The Tempers of Historic Toronto is the title of my latest #bookreview for Michael Ondaatje's historical fiction novel "In the Skin of a Lion". With this, I have finally read ALL of Ondaatje's novels! You can find my review on my blog here. https://tcl-bookreviews.com/2019/05/3...

The writing, the manner by which the author has woven fact into a fictional tale and the book’s central message explain why I like this book as much as I do. We are given a story that is carefully planned and well executed. Every detail is there for a purpose. Even section titles have been carefully considered. The “finished product” is very good.

We are told at the start that every novel should begin with the line:

“Trust me, this will take time, but there is order here, very faint, very human.”

Not every novel can successfully fulfill such a promise. This one does.

The writing alone is worth four stars. Ondaatje draws scenes that readers will not forget. One that stands out for me are skaters, on a creek, in the dark of night, each holding a sheaf of blazing cats’ tails before them. These skaters we lean later to be Finnish immigrants. Two women playfully, and lovingly, wrestling together is another scene I will not forget. Sexual encounters are drawn with the brush of an artist. The scenes are not only beautifully drawn, but they also tie well into the tale. They are both beautiful and important.

This is a book of historical fiction, its purpose being to draw attention to immigrant labor in the Americas, a group of people whose work should be applauded and given the recognition they merit. Without them our cities would not be what they are today. History often fails to give immigrants the merit they are due. The novel looks at Toronto in the beginning of the 20th century--the building of the Prince Edward Viaduct and the R.C. Harris Water Treatment Plant by immigrant labor with poor pay and working conditions. Little or no concern is taken in regards to their living quarters. The Prince Edward Viaduct is also known as the Bloor Viaduct. Who were these men and women who built our cities? What were their lives like? It is this that is the central theme of the book.

True facts are seamlessly woven into the fictional tale. They do not stick out. They are not excessive. They do not smother the story. We learn of R.C. Harris, the bridge’s designer and commissioner of public works in Toronto at this time. The viaduct was to be a double-decked truss arched bridge, carrying water, electricity and traffic and linking eastern Toronto with the city center. As readers, we are there in the construction of the bridge, alongside immigrant labor. We learn of events that were in the news while the bridge was being built—the fall of a nun from the as yet incomplete bridge, the disappearance of Ambrose Small (a bigwig theater owner), labor union meetings and the murder of labor union activists. Ondaatje spent months studying the City of Toronto archives and newspapers. He has taken the known and the unknown and woven the two into a fictional tale. It is up to the reader to search the net to discover what has been stretched. The story is so convincingly written that originally, I thought that all was absolutely true.

The English Patient came out before In the Skin of a Lion. The latter may be considered a prequel to the former. I would recommend reading In the Skin of a Lion first. In it we learn about the two characters Hana and Caravaggio. Both turn up again in The English Patient. I think I would have found them more interesting had I known of their earlier experiences.

The audiobook is narrated by Tom McCamus. I have given the narration performance four stars. It is clear and easy to follow, but different intonations are not used for different characters. You must listen to the words for an indication of who is talking. You cannot even hear if the person peaking is male or female; women and men sound the same. This was of little importance to me, but others may object.

Ondaatje draws a tale that has captivated me. It does demand attention. The reader follows different characters and there are time shifts, but one’s efforts are rewarded. This is a fine tale; one that I thoroughly enjoyed. The writing is splendid.


Books I have read by Michael Ondaatje:
In the Skin of a Lion 4 stars
The English Patient 4 stars
Anil's Ghost 4 stars
Running in the Family 3 stars
Divisadero 3 sars

Warlight TBR

I recognize that this is a deeply necessary tribute to Toronto/early 20th century/immigrant labour/postmodernism, but it’s also probably one of the most annoying books I’ve ever had to read in my life, both the first time and this second time around. Third time’s a charm? Stay tuned to find out.

Michael Ondaatje’s In the Skin of a Lion is the reason Canadian literature leaves a bitter taste in the mouths of so many seasoned readers. Ondaatje’s lack of story, one-dimensional and undistinguishable characters, and bland style of prose come together to create a reading experience unlike no other, because it is so painful to trudge through.

tI find that when I explain what this book is all about out loud, it doesn’t sound too bad. Ondaatje takes folk tales in the city of Toronto, including a nun falling off the bridge and the mysterious missing persons case of Ambrose Small, and weaves them into his own plot and characters, blurring the lines between written history and fictional tales, all the while seeing the depression era from the eyes of the immigrant workers who built the city. Lots of potential, right? Well, Ondaatje somehow manages to take this interesting premise and completely belittle it, making me now question why he is considered one of the greatest contemporary Canadian writers.

tThe first major problem is our protagonist, Patrick Lewis. Patrick is part of the working class, jumping from job to job as he tries to find a place in this city. That’s all there is to him. That’s it. Character is driven by desire, and I cannot seem to pinpoint what Patrick wants or why he is as boring as he is. Patrick offered nothing to this story. He could have been replaced by any other person and the story would not have played out any differently, because his role just didn’t matter. We find out right from the start that Patrick is the one telling us this story, and in the end, he ends up driving in the car with the young girl to whom he is speaking. This is Ondaatje’s equivalent of “it was all a dream!” It’s a copout, perfectly displaying Ondaatje’s pretention. It doesn’t make sense that Patrick is telling this story to Hanna, because there are many vulgar details (some about her own mother) that Patrick would never say to her, and parts of the story don’t even include Patrick, thus deeming his storytelling position impossible. Some may respond to this complaint of mine by saying that this was part of a point, that the stories we hear are not realistic and we often speak about things we were not present during. I would contest by saying, not everything is a deep revelation. Some things are just poorly written. If your response is a claim along the lines of the Emperor’s New Clothes, as we just mindlessly agree with the experts on what good art is, then I believe I have proven my point; Ondaatje is a pretentious writer who did not know how to properly craft a story.

tThe other characters that are problematic are Clara and Alice. These two women are exactly the same, aside from some physical characterizations, and Patrick’s relationships with them are also identical. Again, these are lazy character plans that don’t add to the overarching stories, nor convince me to care about them in any sense.

tOndaatje’s writing style is also very shallow. There isn’t much to it. I cannot even list specific issues here because it was so amateur.

tAll in all, I don’t recommend this book. If you want to read some Canadian literature, I would recommend Mordecai Richler, for his prose are clearly advanced and his storytelling hooks your emotion from the beginning. If you are not a fan of Canadian literature, literally read anything else.