[.ca] Bel Canto (ISBN 0060934417)

From Amazon.com:
In an unnamed South American country, a world-renowned soprano sings at a birthday party in honor of a visiting Japanese industrial titan. His hosts hope that Mr. Hosokawa can be persuaded to build a factory in their Third World backwater. Alas, in the opening sequence, just as the accompanist kisses the soprano, a ragtag band of 18 terrorists enters the vice-presidential mansion through the air conditioning ducts. Their quarry is the president, who has unfortunately stayed home to watch a favorite soap opera. And thus, from the beginning, things go awry. Among the hostages are not only Hosokawa and Roxane Coss, the American soprano, but an assortment of Russian, Italian, and French diplomatic types. Reuben Iglesias, the diminutive and gracious vice president, quickly gets sideways of the kidnappers, who have no interest in him whatsoever. Meanwhile, a Swiss Red Cross negotiator named Joachim Messner is roped into service while vacationing. He comes and goes, wrangling over terms and demands, and the days stretch into weeks, the weeks into months. With the omniscience of magic realism, Ann Patchett flits in and out of the hearts and psyches of hostage and terrorist alike, and in doing so reveals a profound, shared humanity. Her voice is suitably lyrical, melodic, full of warmth and compassion. Hearing opera sung live for the first time, a young priest reflects: Never had he thought, never once, that such a woman existed, one who stood so close to God that God's own voice poured from her. How far she must have gone inside herself to call up that voice. It was as if the voice came from the center part of the earth and by the sheer effort and diligence of her will she had pulled it up through the dirt and rock and through the floorboards of the house, up into her feet, where it pulled through her, reaching, lifting, warmed by her, and then out of the white lily of her throat and straight to God in heaven. Joined by no common language except music, the 58 international hostages and their captors forge unexpected bonds. Time stands still, priorities rearrange themselves. Ultimately, of course, something has to give, even in a novel so imbued with the rich imaginative potential of magic realism. But in a fractious world, Bel Canto remains a gentle reminder of the transcendence of beauty and love. --Victoria Jenkins

Simply unputdownable!!:
What makes this book so special for me is not simply that it's a page-turner, but that I was taken by the novel whose storyline interests me not at all. Generally I am not at all attracted to this genre of novels and the setting of the novel (some unspecified small dictatorship) and the characters did not sell themselves to me. But once I read the first few pages, I was completely gripped! Ann Patchett has a magical way with words and is simply a born storyteller. \oI'm now reading another novel of hers (her first one - the Patron Saint of Liars) and have just bought the Magician's Assistant) She paces her novels well, and this is most evident in Bel Canto. The reader goes through a whole rollercoaster of emotions - the touching comradeship that developes among the hostages and hostage-takers, the evolving friendships, loyalties and love that transpires between the main characters. When the final page is turned, the reader is left with a devastating sense of loss - partly from the startling way the story was concluded and partly just from the fact that there is no more to read. I just wish the author was older so that she could have more works to her name.

Worth Reading:
Art can serve so many different functions at such times: it can ease our minds, build sympathy for other humans, show us that life doesn't have to be as bad as what we see on television every day. In her mesmerizing "Bel Canto", Ann Patchett develops a similar theme, dealing with the redemption, through art, of humanity from the petty political bonds that keep them separated. As the novel begins, in a war-torn South American country, we see a gathering of high society at a birthday party. They're hearing the singing of Roxanne Coss, a famous soprano. The lights go out, then turn back on: terrorists have entered the mansion, to take over the gathering. The book's method of setting forth characters, and allowing them to develop both on their own and in relation to everybody else, contributes greatly to its richness and depth. So does Patchett's lovely prose, full of implication and hidden meaning, but never decadent. The most rewarding aspect of "Bel Canto", however, is its message: that in the middle of the silliness of politics, with all its vague bluster about principle, threat and obligation, what can save people from their own insignificant games is simply the glory of art. That's a message with great resonance for our own times. I often feel slightly ashamed when I'm trying to read a book, and there's a television on in the room: CNN distracts from the bliss of the book I'm reading, and I'm pulled out of the platonic realm of literature into the harsh reality of the world's situations. And it's that aspect of the uneasy tension between art and politics that Patchett captures here. I hate to spoil the plot for a first-time reader, and so I'll only say that by the end of the novel, even the supposed aggressors have fallen under art's rapture. Roxanne Coss, the great soprano who only came to the gathering to entertain because it paid well, ends up being a siren, a Muse, the representation of art - which seems to be, in the end, all that really stays. In putting forth this message, Ann Patchett is hardly being frivolous; instead, what she's doing is demonstrating that politics may be important, but art is the fuel that keeps us running. At various moments throughout the book, the gathering seems on the verge of collapse - and only simple, humane gestures hold it together. The plot of the book moves along capably; agonized internal musings on the part of each character, described with skill in Patchett's lovingly omniscient authorial voice, add to the complexity of the situation it describes. One of the more important themes of "Bel Canto" is the idea that communication can extend across the boundaries of language. The gathering's only translator quickly finds himself overworked by the polyglot babble - but eventually, the people present somehow learn to communicate with few words. If I've been vague in my description, that's deliberate: the plot needs to unfold for the reader, with all its layers of mystery and allegory, unhampered by previous expectations. This book is about war - an intimate war between deluded terrorists (whose political alignments, significantly, are never really revealed), but there's little emphasis on the horrors of war; rather, Ann Patchett chooses to focus on how art - especially the beauty of music - can save people from themselves. I can think of few messages more appropriate for our troubled times. Patchett has woven an engrossing fiction about opera, terrorism, and Stockholm Syndrome - and her own artistic achievement is that she's able to make it all come together so perfectly, but try it for yourself! Pick up a copy. Another book I need to recommend -- completely unrelated to Ann Patchett, but very much on my mind since I purchased a "used" copy off Amazon is "The Losers' Club: Complete Restored Edition" by Richard Perez, an exceptional, highly entertaining little novel I can't stop thinking about.

Worth Reading:
Art can serve so many different functions at such times: it can ease our minds, build sympathy for other humans, show us that life doesn't have to be as bad as what we see on television every day. In her mesmerizing "Bel Canto", Ann Patchett develops a similar theme, dealing with the redemption, through art, of humanity from the petty political bonds that keep them separated. As the novel begins, in a war-torn South American country, we see a gathering of high society at a birthday party. They're hearing the singing of Roxanne Coss, a famous soprano. The lights go out, then turn back on: terrorists have entered the mansion, to take over the gathering. The book's method of setting forth characters, and allowing them to develop both on their own and in relation to everybody else, contributes greatly to its richness and depth. So does Patchett's lovely prose, full of implication and hidden meaning, but never decadent. The most rewarding aspect of "Bel Canto", however, is its message: that in the middle of the silliness of politics, with all its vague bluster about principle, threat and obligation, what can save people from their own insignificant games is simply the glory of art. That's a message with great resonance for our own times. I often feel slightly ashamed when I'm trying to read a book, and there's a television on in the room: CNN distracts from the bliss of the book I'm reading, and I'm pulled out of the platonic realm of literature into the harsh reality of the world's situations. And it's that aspect of the uneasy tension between art and politics that Patchett captures here. I hate to spoil the plot for a first-time reader, and so I'll only say that by the end of the novel, even the supposed aggressors have fallen under art's rapture. Roxanne Coss, the great soprano who only came to the gathering to entertain because it paid well, ends up being a siren, a Muse, the representation of art - which seems to be, in the end, all that really stays. In putting forth this message, Ann Patchett is hardly being frivolous; instead, what she's doing is demonstrating that politics may be important, but art is the fuel that keeps us running. At various moments throughout the book, the gathering seems on the verge of collapse - and only simple, humane gestures hold it together. The plot of the book moves along capably; agonized internal musings on the part of each character, described with skill in Patchett's lovingly omniscient authorial voice, add to the complexity of the situation it describes. One of the more important themes of "Bel Canto" is the idea that communication can extend across the boundaries of language. The gathering's only translator quickly finds himself overworked by the polyglot babble - but eventually, the people present somehow learn to communicate with few words. If I've been vague in my description, that's deliberate: the plot needs to unfold for the reader, with all its layers of mystery and allegory, unhampered by previous expectations. This book is about war - an intimate war between deluded terrorists (whose political alignments, significantly, are never really revealed), but there's little emphasis on the horrors of war; rather, Ann Patchett chooses to focus on how art - especially the beauty of music - can save people from themselves. I can think of few messages more appropriate for our troubled times. Patchett has woven an engrossing fiction about opera, terrorism, and Stockholm Syndrome - and her own artistic achievement is that she's able to make it all come together so perfectly, but try it for yourself! Pick up a copy. Another book I need to recommend -- completely unrelated to Ann Patchett, but very much on my mind since I purchased a "used" copy off Amazon is "The Losers' Club: Complete Restored Edition" by Richard Perez, an exceptional, highly entertaining little novel I can't stop thinking about.

Worth Reading:
Art can serve so many different functions at such times: it can ease our minds, build sympathy for other humans, show us that life doesn't have to be as bad as what we see on television every day. In her mesmerizing "Bel Canto", Ann Patchett develops a similar theme, dealing with the redemption, through art, of humanity from the petty political bonds that keep them separated. As the novel begins, in a war-torn South American country, we see a gathering of high society at a birthday party. They're hearing the singing of Roxanne Coss, a famous soprano. The lights go out, then turn back on: terrorists have entered the mansion, to take over the gathering. The book's method of setting forth characters, and allowing them to develop both on their own and in relation to everybody else, contributes greatly to its richness and depth. So does Patchett's lovely prose, full of implication and hidden meaning, but never decadent. The most rewarding aspect of "Bel Canto", however, is its message: that in the middle of the silliness of politics, with all its vague bluster about principle, threat and obligation, what can save people from their own insignificant games is simply the glory of art. That's a message with great resonance for our own times. I often feel slightly ashamed when I'm trying to read a book, and there's a television on in the room: CNN distracts from the bliss of the book I'm reading, and I'm pulled out of the platonic realm of literature into the harsh reality of the world's situations. And it's that aspect of the uneasy tension between art and politics that Patchett captures here. I hate to spoil the plot for a first-time reader, and so I'll only say that by the end of the novel, even the supposed aggressors have fallen under art's rapture. Roxanne Coss, the great soprano who only came to the gathering to entertain because it paid well, ends up being a siren, a Muse, the representation of art - which seems to be, in the end, all that really stays. In putting forth this message, Ann Patchett is hardly being frivolous; instead, what she's doing is demonstrating that politics may be important, but art is the fuel that keeps us running. At various moments throughout the book, the gathering seems on the verge of collapse - and only simple, humane gestures hold it together. The plot of the book moves along capably; agonized internal musings on the part of each character, described with skill in Patchett's lovingly omniscient authorial voice, add to the complexity of the situation it describes. One of the more important themes of "Bel Canto" is the idea that communication can extend across the boundaries of language. The gathering's only translator quickly finds himself overworked by the polyglot babble - but eventually, the people present somehow learn to communicate with few words. If I've been vague in my description, that's deliberate: the plot needs to unfold for the reader, with all its layers of mystery and allegory, unhampered by previous expectations. This book is about war - an intimate war between deluded terrorists (whose political alignments, significantly, are never really revealed), but there's little emphasis on the horrors of war; rather, Ann Patchett chooses to focus on how art - especially the beauty of music - can save people from themselves. I can think of few messages more appropriate for our troubled times. Patchett has woven an engrossing fiction about opera, terrorism, and Stockholm Syndrome - and her own artistic achievement is that she's able to make it all come together so perfectly, but try it for yourself! Pick up a copy. Another book I need to recommend -- completely unrelated to Ann Patchett, but very much on my mind since I purchased a "used" copy off Amazon is "The Losers' Club: Complete Restored Edition" by Richard Perez, an exceptional, highly entertaining little novel I can't stop thinking about.

Novel does not soar as high as an opera soprano's voice:
Many people had recommended this book to me, and eventually my book club chose it as our monthly selection. While I feel this novel is worth reading, it is by no means an easy read. The setting is the confines of a Vice President's home in a South American country, in which a group of inept and somewhat sympathetic terrorists take a group of international dignitaries and an opera diva hostage. The narrative point of view shifts between several characters, never really allowing for full character development. The constant shifting between characters creates a choppy and clumsy writing style that is, at times, difficult to read. In addition, the plot takes an eternity to unfold, while the reader is repeatedly and redundantly shown how desirable and how beautiful the opera diva, Roxane Coss, is to the others. Annoyingly, the author also assumes that everyone, characters and readers alike, are enchanted by and enamoured with opera, and subsequently the opera singer and her vocal practices take centre stage over the issues of social justice the terrorists are trying to call attention to. The last chapters of the novel generate the most narrative tension and excitement as the hostages and terrorists finally establish meaningful relationships with each other. The most striking contrast is between the privileged lives of the dignitaries and the opera star, who even in their confinement maintain this status, alongside the poverty and illiteracy of the terrorists, who really end up as the most interesting and sympathetic characters in the novel. The conclusion of the novel seems quite unfair, unjust, and unneccessary in light of other possibilities. \oAmy MacDougall\c