Valerie Martin

Anton and Cecil are brothers, but the two cats could not be more unalike. Cecil is an adventurous black cat, big and bold, and instead of being scared by the tales of cats being kidnapped to go on ships he rather thinks it would be an adventure. Anton, a small gray cat, really only loves music and can't even be bothered to catch food most of the time. Despite Cecil's brief trips to sea on a fishing ship, it is Anton who is catnapped and stolen away and Cecil who must venture forth on a show more hopeless quest to find them.

As they cross the ocean, a mystical prophecy of finding what they've lost when they see a cat's eye keeps them going as they endure shipwrecks, storms, pirates, deserted islands, terrifying creatures and a whale who may or may not be friendly.

This story felt very old-fashioned to me, but I enjoyed it even so. Although some of the publicity bills it as an adventure tale, readers picking it up and expecting thrills and excitement will be disappointed. It's an older genre of animal story, where the animals are more anthropomorphous and the action is gentler, even when it involves something that could be scary like shipwrecks or pirates. It reminded me of the Doctor Dolittle stories with their special quality of mild danger, gentle humor, and enjoyment of simple storytelling.

Verdict: This won't be for every kid, most of whom prefer the more genre-ized modern fiction but if you have fans of Kate DiCamillo they may enjoy this return to an older, gentler storytelling tradition.

ISBN: 9781616202460; Published October 8, 2013 by Algonquin Young Readers/Workman Publishing; ARC provided by the publisher at ALA annual 2013 show less

I’ve been trying to write this review for a while now and it refuses to come together. So here is a quote that I think best encapsulates this story of enslavement (both literal and figurative) and the twisted relationship between men and women and slaves and masters in 1820s Louisiana:

“He wishes I might die of cholera, and fears that she may instead. I wish he might be killed while shooting rebellious negroes. She wishes us both dead.” (page 63)

What Martin does most brilliantly is to show more depict the internalization of brutality and to create an anti-heroine and narrator so selfish and self-absorbed that she fails to comprehend the hypocrisy in which she lives. An uncomfortable read and a worthy Orange Prize winner by an author I look forward to reading more of. show less

What a wonderful treat this book is! I tend to forget Valerie Martin. On the one hand, this means that I end up missing her novels. On the other hand, I get to rediscover her often which sort of fulfills my fantasies of re-reading various books & authors for the first time all over again.

I spent most of my twenties & thirties in theaters. First as an actor & later as a director with my own production company. Acting was fun because it provided me with an opportunity to explore sides of show more myself that I tended to avoid & to do things I'd probably never ever do in my real life. Directing, however, was my ultimate love in the theater. Where else do you get to interrogate text prior to making it get up and walk around?

The Confessions of Edward Day is the memoir of Edward Day, an actor reminiscing about his salad days in the New York theater world of the 1970s where everyone was a student of Stella Adler or Sanford Meisner & living hand-to-mouth from audition to audition waiting for that big break. Edward Day is the definitive actor, a narcissist whose self-awareness is so thin that he can't see himself. Edward stands so far outside himself in observation of his emotions as material for his acting that he is essentially a non-person. Scarily, he is in many ways the most complete person in this tale of doubling & its consequences.

Ms. Martin is asking some big questions here: What is owed to someone who saves your life? What does it mean to be both an actor & a person? If you have a doppleganger, which one of you is real?

Ms. Martin's writing is, as always, superb. She manages to create characters who suck you into their worlds. She writes with a delicate menace that is reminiscent of Patricia Highsmith, but less bound to the thriller genre. This is a wonderfully written, compelling story that ended far too soon. show less

This fictional memoir surprised and amazed me. Valerie Martin (Mary Rielly, Trepass) vividly captures the life of an actor in New York in the 1970s. This was a time when actors were clammoring to get in class with Sandy Meisner, Stella Adler, and Uta Hagen, and sat over drinks discussing nothing but their methods, their motivations and their roles. Edward Day takes us on his journey to find truth in his life, and, thus, truth in his acting.

Synopsis: Valerie Martin re-creates the seamy show more theater world of 1970's New York, when rents were cheap, love was free, and nudity on stage was the latest craze. Edward Day, a talented and ambitious young actor, finds his life forever altered during a weekend party on the New Jersey shore. There he seduces the delicious Madeleine Delavergne and is saved from drowning by the mysterious Guy Margate, who becomes Edward's rival on stage and off.

And so, at a time when actors flocked to the great method teachers to hone the art of the "truthful" performance, Edward discovers that truth - in theater and in life - is ever elusive and never inert.

Actors are a strange breed, and Valerie Martin gave us as accurate a portrait as one could hope without spilling over into stereotypes or hyperbole. As someone who has poured over Hagen's Respect for Acting, and Meisner's On Acting, it's no mystery why I got completely swept up in The Confessions of Edward Day. I spent a wee bit of time in New York studying acting, and I used to talk with my fellow actors, all of us in awe over New York in the 1970s. Valerie Martin transports us to that time effortlessly.

Edward Day is on a quest in search of truth in his acting, which,, according to Stella Adler, he should find in the truth of his life. Every conversation, every gesture, every laugh, and every emotion he has in life, he dissects and files away for use in his work. If that is how he lives his life, how can that be truthful? But this is the life of an actor, narcisistic to the core.

Even if you aren't an actor, or don't watch Inside the Actor's Studio, it's fascinating to follow Edward Day from his growing career to his love affairs, with Guy Margate lurking in the wings of both. For the 20+ years of this memoir, Ed is never able to shake Guy, the man who saved his life. At what point is that debt repaid? Beyond the actor's story, this novel is downright dark and creepy, and I loved every minute of it.

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