A CHRISTIAN SCIENCE MONITOR BEST BOOK OF 2009
A BOOKLIST BEST BOOK OF 2009
A GLOBE AND MAIL BEST BOOK OF 2009
WINNER OF THE PEN USA AWARD FOR FICTION
"From page one, the outrageous, pitch-perfect voice of this book grabs you up and won't let go. A bravura performance." --Mary Karr, author of The Liars' Club and Cherry
"Mathilda Savitch is a hilarious, self-deprecating, and outrageously openhearted creation--an oracle struggling to under stand her own proclamations. Mathilda's cluelessness and brilliance are captured in a language so true, it will make you feel like you are right back in the madness and squalor that is the schoolyard. And you will be forced to confront, once again, the truth that all adolescents grapple with, that the lunatics have indeed taken over the asylum." --Heather O'Neill, author of Lullabies for Little Criminals "The first novel from poet and playwright Lodato is a stunning portrait of grief and youthful imagination. Narrator Mathilda Savitch is an adolescent girl negotiating life after the death of her older sister, Helene. Her parents, especially her alcoholic mother, are too traumatized to give her the comfort she needs, so she lives in an elaborate world of her own invented logic. Mathilda evaluates sex, religion and national tragedy in language that is constantly surprising, amusing and often heartbreaking. She speaks with the bold matter-of-factness of a child, but also reveals a deep understanding of life far beyond her year s: 'I wondered why god would unlock a door just to show you emptiness, ' she says. 'It made me wonder if maybe he was in cahoots with infinity.' Lodato chooses every word with extreme care; Mathilda's observations read like a finely crafted epic poem, whose themes and imagery paint an intricate map of her inner life. She's a metaphysical Holden Caulfield for the terrifying present day." --Publishers Weekly (starred review) "In many ways, Mathilda is a child putting on like she's an adult, and Lodato, a poet and playwright in his fiction debut, creates in her an unforgettable voice. His Mathilda is an acerbic wit, yet is capable of great rushes of compassion; she is plainspoken, but given to the most lovely, left-field reflections. Recalling the way her parents were before Helene's death, Mathilda says, "Da gave Ma the kind of kisses that linger, and afterwards she looked like someone who'd just had a bath." The book's first passage (out of four) is its strongest: a marvel of observational acuity and lyrical phrasing." --Kimberly Jones, The Austin Chronicle "As a writer, Lodato understands the true and ugly side of mourning. Trying to provoke her parents, Mathilda dresses up in her dead sister's birthday dress. Numb, in search of deeper numbness, her mother downs the vodka, and crawls on the kitchen floor, howling, in search of another bottle.