|Ducks in a row|
|Muir Woods Or Bust|
About a month ago, when those of us who suffer the long Chicago winters woke up to birds singing, temperatures in the 70’s, and sunny, sunny skies, I took to lubing up my bicycle and filling the tires. Time, finally, to ride to work.
But on this day strangers smile at one another on the street, whispering, Finally! The exclamation is like sharing a secret-- no explanation, no more words necessary. It is finally warm. We are healed.
The bike path runs parallel to the Chicago river, and at the underpass are ducklings and geese greeting one another in the water. Soon we'll see occasional canoes and kayaks, kids rowing hard. I stop my bike to gaze into the water and see a styrofoam hamburger container, the kind you might get at a take-out place. It is floating out there on the river like a boat. A misplaced bit of garbage that might be in the river, might travel downstream until it hits the Gulf of Mexico.
Who doesn’t fear that this is the future of all young sons?
So despite the cringe, the environmental blights, the dim, dreary, catastrophic events, and the
air, if there is any, that just feels bad, this is a book about people getting help from random events. Ian has woven them all together, masterfully. There’s so much plot, so much really good fanciful plot, so much story, well, eventually I did finish it and here we are, in the middle of a review. Were it not for the plot, there would be no review, you see, for we therapists, you see, are in it for the story, and might not deign to review a book with little story.
And even better, there's a satisfying ending, tying together many diverse and engaging characters.
One suspects Ian is a therapist, or worse, had one for a mother or a father, or heaven forbid, both. He could be an ACOT, Adult Child of a Therapist, or maybe just somebody like me, with all that education under his belt, who just likes to write.