Tinti's The Good Thief was among my favorites of 2008 (we was kids back then, weren't we?) so I have waited years for another novel. I have been patient because she has been busy at the helm of the fantastic One Story, a subscription service celebrating the short story. As a fan and proponent of the short story form, I have been an ardent supporter and subscriber for many years (It makes a swell gift, too! And such a deal! One Story website). Her latest is a worthy successor.
The twelve lives in the title are actually the specific details surrounding the twelve times Sam Hawley was shot over his lifetime. In short, Hawley is an accomplished crook for hire despite the number of bullets in his hide. His young life is spent pulling jobs and living quietly and nomadically off his fees. This life is changed dramatically when he meets Lily at the funeral of her father, himself a career criminal. It is with her that he can lose himself and with whom he has Loo, his beloved daughter.
Sam lives a life laced with longing and loneliness. That longing manifests itself in a shrine to Lily in every bathroom where they live. Lonely in that he must always keep a low profile since reprisal could happen at almost any time. Because they often need to pull up stakes at a moments notice, there are many bathrooms. As a result, Loo's life is heavy with these feelings without knowing why. The books' first sentence, "When Loo was twelve years old, her father taught her how to shoot a gun" certainly sets up the rest of the story.
As ever, Tinti manages to capture the very essence of her characters. As we came to adore Ren and Dolly in The Good Thief, we love Lily and how she makes it possible for Sam to love. As a result, we can only begin to understand his endless grief.
As for Loo, she is one of those very rare birds that literature allows us to glimpse in the wild. Tinti writes gorgeously of her young life and how her normal adolescent struggles are even more trying living under the lingering cloud that is her mother's memory and the many crimes of her father.
Though very different from her first novel, it has been well worth the wait to read Tinti again. She is a brilliant storyteller who deserves a much bigger audience.
If you'd like another take on this book, see what this smart fellow has to say:
Ron Charles review
Sometimes you just get lucky and come across a terrific book by accident. That was the case with this delightful story which I devoured in two sittings and longed for more. Bertino is the author of the short story collection Safe As Houses, which received considerable praise and several awards. 2 A.M pubbed just this month.
"It is dark, dark 7 am on Christmas Eve Eve" the book begins and, in a linear fashion, concludes close to the time in the title. We are lucky to meet 9 year old Madeleine Altimari, a cigarette-smoking, budding jazz singer as she practices in front of the mirror and grades herself harshly. Her mother has died a year before and her father has withdrawn from the world in his grief. Mrs. Rose Santiago, a neighborhood shopkeeper, looks after Madeleine but mostly the kid is raising herself.
She yearns to sing at her school, St. Anthony of the Immaculate Heart, but that's never going to happen. Her rival, Clare Kelly, always gets to lead the class at Mass. Madeleine hates the way Clare sings, entirely without soul. The bright spot of the coming day is that her class will be making caramel apples. Madeleine has never had one and wants to try one desperately. While I was immediately smitten with Madeleine, her yearning for a caramel apple was where I knew Bertino had me on the hook. This poor child, with all the grief and loss and disappointment that hangs over her like the inkiest of clouds, and she still has that child-like intensity for something so simple.
From there we move through the day and several Philadelphia neighborhoods. We are introduced to a number of colorful characters but the three main threads that tie together 2 A.M. are Madeleine, her teacher, Sarina Greene, and Lorca, owner of the jazz club, the Cat's Pajamas. Each has their own worries. Miss Greene, a recent divorcee, is attending a dinner party that night with old friends including an ex-beau. Lorca may lose the club by closing time (2 A.M.) if he can't raise the money to offset serious violations brought on by a new, by-the-book, neighborhood cop.
Bertino has a light touch and a wonderful way with words. Some readers may find some of the storylines a little too tidy but the story is such fun, these minor issues are easy to overlook. Besides, not everyone has to write The bloody Goldfinch. Where the writing shines most is in the humor and pathos surrounding Madeleine. She has the mouth of a dock worker, the burning desire to sing torch songs, and the pain and sadness of a little girl who has lost one parent to death and the other to grief. The other characters that people the novel are inspired and interesting, full of tics and truths, but if I had my choice, I wanted MORE Madeleine. Which leads to the question I must ask aloud: can we expect more Madeleine, Ms. Bertino? Are you through with this marvelous character or will we be lucky enough to cross paths with her again? I can only hope so.
I listen to Selected Shorts from WNYC and thought I'd pass along the link.
http://www.symphonyspace.org/shorts
They always do interesting works read by talented actors. The website isn't great and it's kind of hard to actually get to the downloadable part but have patience because the payoff is well worth it.
The most recent show has a marvelous version of 'Boys' by Rick Moody, performed by actor B. D. Wong.
To make a good thing even better, Selected Shorts partners with my beloved One Story and with the good folks at Houghton Mifflin and their Best American Short Stories series, which is also quite beloved by me. (There is much beloving going on here at Chez Next.) Indulge yourself and enjoy.
Well, I'm easily the blogger who blogs the least. Sort of an anti-blogger. I don't mean to be. I am backed up on book posts like I've been eating matzah all week. (I haven't been eating matzah all week though I should have been eating matzah all week. Another story entirely.) But it's got me on this rant about not getting the things done I really want to because I have all this other crap that needs my attention, as well.
For example, I really needed to get started on the yard yesterday as it appears that a herd of meerkats (a flock? a pride?) must have moved into my backyard over the winter and I never noticed somehow. The yard behind the garage is lousy with tunnels, mounds and bald patches. As I mowed, I was cutting the tops of these mounds off and releasing a geyser of dirt and dust into the air--charming. What I'm saying is the time I spent decapitating giant anthills could've been spent blogging about Tinti's The Good Thief, which I promised to post about months ago but haven't. So I will. Long story short: I loved this book. The story opens in an orphanage where we meet 12-year Ren, a one-handed orphan with a head full of lice and the tiniest hope of being adopted in his heart. Con artist Benjamin Nab, who is up to no good though is as charming and resourceful as the day is long, adopts Ren and finds him a quick study. Thus begins a tale that is a throwback to the likes of Dickens workhouse thieves or the stories of Robert Louis Stevenson. Narrow escapes, evil factory owners, kindly landladies, mousetrap girls, murderers, poverty, sickness and a sense of family--it's a rollicking tale and beautifully written. Tinti has a wonderful way with words and imbues the many characters with great humanity despite their many, many flaws. She can also be damned funny. Too, there is a cinematic quality to this story. You can just picture it all unfolding in front of you on a big screen.
With all the swashbuckling exploits and wonderful characters, The Good Thief offers a reassuring payoff: it finds family where there wasn't before. The author Richard Bach has a quote I've always loved that I think captures what Hannah Tinti does so well with this book:
"The bond that links your true family is not one of blood, but of respect and joy in each other's life. Rarely do members of one family grow up under the same roof."
Enjoy The Good Thief.
Tinti's The Good Thief was among my favorites of 2008 (we was kids back then, weren't we?) so I have waited years for another novel. I have been patient because she has been busy at the helm of the fantastic One Story, a subscription service celebrating the short story. As a fan and proponent of the short story form, I have been an ardent supporter and subscriber for many years (It makes a swell gift, too! And such a deal! One Story website). Her latest is a worthy successor. 
