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Up From The Blue. Susan Henderson (2011)

by Susan Henderson(Favorite Author)

3.78 of 5 Votes: 1

ISBN

1851688439 (ISBN13: 9781851688432)

languge

English

genre

Historical Fiction

publisher

ONEWorld Publications

review 1: An uncomfortable read, but I'm so glad I read it. I couldn't help wondering if it had been written from an autobiographical point of view as the scenes & detail were so realistic - if so the author spared us nothing.It took me a while to get back into the mindset of a pre-teenage girl but again the detail was fantastic, instantly transporting us there.Although an unsettling read I couldn't put it down & will look forward to more from Susan Henderson.
review 2: Beautiful and haunting story with solid, well developed characters. Feels more like a vivid non-fiction memoir than a novel because the characters are rich and the memories are real, raw and aching with emotion. I connected to this book in the first paragraph. It has a mysterious plot line that keeps you ... morereading and had a very "Catcher in the Rye"/"The Bell Jar" feeling to it. The ending (the play and the baby girl/new start) ending felt cliche, but it was still a beautiful ending to a powerful story. Several lines that I read a few times because the words were so powerful to me: "Some people, not many, can reach the most tender spot within you and hold you there - sometimes without even knowing that's what they've done.""Phil picked up his skateboard and turned to me, asking, "What's wrong with you?" And there was so much that was wrong. This was what had been bubbling up, a desire for them to see me when I wasn't pretending - to see me flawed and impulsive - and that be good enough." "Sometimes Dad's talking became like the sound at the end of a record, before you removed the needle. Fuff, fuff, fuff. Everyone likes to tell you the ways you're wrong and ways you can improve yourself and what you should and shouldn't do. Sometimes you have to tune it out or there's nothing left of you that's right." "Some nights I'm startled awake with the ways we are similar - how, on certain days, I, too, could sit and stare at nothing, could fill my pockets with something heavy and sink underwater. But what I desperately want to tell my mother, if she'd given me a chance to respond, is this: It wasn't perfect, but I never needed perfect." less

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