Caribou Island (original 2011; edition 2011)

This grim novel moves implacably toward its dark climax but is so gripping that I could not stop reading despite a cast of manipulative, crazed, doomed characters and implicit violence on every page. It was not a fun read but it was not possible for me to put the book down. My ration of sardonic pessimism about human nature for the decade. ( )

If books were colors, this book would be a dark inky blue. It would be the color of undercurrents that pull the listener inexorably towards the tragic moment. It would be the color of deep impenetrable forests and lakes that shoulder against daylight and keep secrets in their primordial being. It would be the color of a night sky in the north which hints at a little daylight within it still; but holds it captive, letting it know it can be easily swallowed up. So, yes, this is my metaphorical description of Caribou Island that lets you know that it is not a novel of hope and love or even happy endings.

What Caribou Island is, is a novel about a family on the Kenai Peninsula whose quotidian routines (begotten of never-ending regret and frustration) are disturbed as Gary, the patriarch of the family, decides to build a cabin in an even more remote area off of the peninsula. His wife, Irene, the unwilling accomplice in the ill-conceived plan, assumes her role of martyr on a scale not seen since the days of Greek Tragedy, suffering from inexplicable and severe headaches and, the conviction that her husband is taking steps to leave her. Gary and Irene's daughter, Rhoda, is the Cassandra of this epic, eddying around in her parents' wake as her perceptive concern blinds her to her own domestic situation. And then there is Mark, Rhoda's brother, the erstwhile fisherman and career stoner, blithely unconcerned with the fates of those surrounding him.

David Vann's writing is figuratively photo-realistic, portraying setting and characters vividly (mosquitoes, warts and all;) but you may have cause to want to expunge those images from your mind by the time the book has ended. It's all a bit dark in timbre and the big scene is surreal and graphic (though no surprise to those familiar with David Vann's previous work.) The setting may be gorgeous; but none of the people are likable and; there is nothing funny or happy about this story. Caribou Island is a tragedy set in modern context and as such the listener can expect to see an exposition of immutable fate and impotent people. There is no antidote in this story, no convincing argument that the events as they unfolded were not inevitable and no solace that the reader or listener is really inherently different from the characters in the book. There is little to take away from the story other than we may be living out our own modern tragedies.

Bronson Pinchot's narration hits all the right notes, imbuing each character with distinction and pathos. If I were to fault him for anything, it would be for the voice of Monique, a young seductress. Monique doesn't sound natural, somehow at odds with the quality of the rest of the narration.

These comments were redacted from the blog review originally posted at http://dogearedcopy.blogspot.com on 03/02/2011. ( )

Caribou Island is an intelligent and well written novel set in a remote fishing town of Alaska on the Kenai Peninsula. It follows the lives of Gary and Irene, a middle-aged couple caught in an unhappy marriage for over thirty years, and their adult children, Rhoda and Mark. There is a dark and despondent tone throughout the book, but it was well-executed and befitting to the story. The ending was brilliant. ( )

This gripping but grim novel is a portrayal of a marriage in freefall.
Gary and Irene live in Alaska. They have raised two children, Rhoda, a vet nurse who lives with her partner Jim and longs for marriage and Mark, pot smoker and fisherman. Gary is determined to pursue his dream of he and Irene building and living in a cabin on the remote Caribou Island. However this is one of a succession of failed dreams that Irene has endured.
The bleak Alaskan landscape is vividly drawn for someone, like myself, who lives in a snow free climate and the characters and relationships are uncomfortably recognisable.
I found this book hard to put down, despite the grimness of the setting and tale and it is probably this that has prevented me from giving this book full marks. ( )

This is a book that reflects its setting. The style is spare and the themes are dark. The cold, forbidding atmosphere of Caribou Island and the surrounding area just add to the feeling of desperation and fear. The writing is beautiful in many places, with a restrained style that allows the stark facts to show through. The book centres around a troubled marriage, with the wife depressed and the husband angry, but the problems radiate out through the more minor characters too. Everyone in the book is damaged in some way, everyone is lacking something.

As I hope I've made clear, this is certainly not a cheery or uplifting read. If you want to be inspired or to escape or to meet likeable characters you can identify with, you probably won't like this book. But if you want something dark, sad, raw and true, I'd recommend Caribou Island. ( )