The Birdcatcher
FINALIST FOR THE 2022 NATIONAL BOOK AWARD
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- 3,99 €
Descripción editorial
FINALIST FOR THE 2022 NATIONAL BOOK AWARD
The Birdcatcher is the new novel from a major voice in American literature, which explores artists in exile, dangerous relationships and the demands of creativity.
'A literary giant, and one of my absolute favourite writers' - Tayari Jones, author of An American Marriage
'I am living on the white-washed island of Ibiza with my friend Catherine Shuger, a sculptor who has been declared legally insane, and her husband, Ernest. Standing on the terrace, sheltered in the smell of oranges and eucalyptus, washed in sunlight, you'd swear this was a paradise. But to tell the truth the place is full of dangers. You see, Catherine sometimes tries to kill her husband. It has been this way for years . . .'
'My name's Amanda Wordlaw. Wonderful name for a writer, isn't it? . . . I guess I'm sort of a choice companion for the Shugers - professional watcher and listener that I am. It's like they need someone else to witness the shit, the spectacle they make of themselves.'
'A fascinating meditation on Black female creativity from the author of Corregidora and Palmares . . . Vivid characters shimmer through the pages' Suzi Feay, GUARDIAN
PUBLISHERS WEEKLY
Jones continues her marvelous run after last year's Pulitzer finalist Palmares with the gloriously demented story of an artist who keeps trying to kill her husband. Amanda Wordlaw, an experimental novelist cum travel writer, accepts an invitation to join her friends Catherine and Ernest Shuger for an extended stay in Ibiza. She's a platonic third for the Shugers, though the locals all assume the three Black Americans are sleeping together. Catherine isn't allowed any sharp objects due to her history of trying to kill Ernest, which limits her sculpture practice—she's working on a mixed-media project called "The Birdcatcher"—and Ernest takes her to a mental hospital whenever she tries to kill him, like the time she snagged a bicycle spoke from a trash heap and attempted to stab him. There's no why, just the what ("You'd think we'd learn by now," Amanda narrates. "But somehow we keep the optimism"). As to the when, clues suggest the early 1980s, and every once in a while a character speaks in the decade's bald vulgarity ("Excuse me, I'm going over here and get a closer look at that piece of ass," a man says to a woman, about another woman, at a party—"It's talking to me"). The racism depicted in the art world is sadly timeless, such as the white artist who tells Catherine it's too bad her culture has no great literature. Jones, implicitly defiant, draws deeply from classic and global literature—a well-placed reference to Cervantes's windmills leaves the reader's head spinning. And like one of Amanda's inventive novels, this one ends on a surprising and playful turn. It ought to be required reading.
