[.ca] Observatory Mansions (ISBN 0679311300)

swirling vortex:
I was drawn into this novel completely unaware that I would experience the stillness of Thomas Francis as the dark strange world of Observatory Mansions was meticulously constructed around me. I was not comfortable or enjoying myself as much as I was totally engrossed, facinated. This novel is not one that I could pick up and put down, reading a little here and there. I had to read on, start to finish. The only pause taken was as I wondered who, besides the author, would direct this novel when it becomes a film. Initially I could only imagine Tim Burton as the director, then as the book progressed I vascillated between Wes Anderson and Tim Burton....

Visit the Mansions:
I wanted to curl back up into this book for days after finishing it. The self-contained world Edward Carey creates is so crooked, dusty and credible. One trusts completely what the characters see and experience because one is being guided so kindly by the hand. Think twice the next time you sit next to a myopic albino on the bus; chances are they have a far richer inner life than we tidy commuters.

The best novel I've read this year:
This is a completely original story, in both plot and voice. I loved it.

The Rules for Gloves:
Carey, Edward Observatory Mansions Random House Canada, 2000 356 pages Somewhere in urban Britain, Observatory Mansions is a tenement which was once an impressive country estate. Over time, the city has not only encroached upon it, but has surrounded it. Now it is a mostly empty, decrepit building waiting for the demolisher's wrecking ball. Meanwhile, however, it is home to Francis Orme and his aged parents, members of the wealthy and respected family once owners of Observatory Mansions and the lands around it. Converted into an apartment block some time ago, it has never been a desired place for anyone to live except the very needy and the very eccentric, and as it deteriorates, a succession of bizarre characters passes through the place: a woman who has adopted the behaviour of a lost dog, a lascivious porter who hisses and badgers the tenants over misdemeanors against cleanliness, a woman whose real world unfolds behind the TV screen. Told in the first person by Francis Orme, we learn very quickly that he is probably the most off beat of all the characters. He wears white cotton gloves at all times, is a meticulous collector of memorabilia of love - objects which meant a lot to people, mostly stolen by him - and makes his living busking, standing motionless on an abandoned plinth in the vicinity of Observatory Mansions and moving only to acknowledge coins dropping into his can by blowing soap bubbles at the donors. Edward Carey is a playwright and freelance illustrator and his drawings of the faces of some of the characters of the "mansion" add to the surreal quality of the text. His narrator, an obsessive/compulsive collector and maker of lists and rules, turns out to be the perfect spokesperson for the people of the world whom time has left behind. I would be hesitant to put a theme to the novel - Carey's first - but I was struck mostly by the struggle for meaning in each characters attempts to survive on a shifting sea they barely recognize. The dust jacket, incidentally, is wonderfully done. All hand drawn and printed, it is of a piece with the books contents, an achievement only the best book designers can rightfully claim. ****

A thought-provoking book that haunts you after you're done.:
Wow. Finishing this book I am overwhelmed and awed that this is Carey's first novel. Very unique characters and situations and writing style. In many places you can see Carey's theatre background with the dialog reading more like a play without punctuation and the book's plot is more in scenes and acts than chapters, but it really works well for this story - it's about life (and all life's a play!) or the lack of life of this group of misfit characters. I really like the way Carey draws the reader in little by little -- reavealing just enough about one character to shock you, to move you, to keep you reading .... and then switches to another character. It's a book that I'm going to keep thinking about long after the reading of it. Yes, these are disturbed characters, but who among us can't recognize themselves in one or more of them? Anyone who collects anything must wonder where is the line that separates my collecting from the bizarre collecting of Francis Orne? I read a lot of books, and I love a book that keeps me guessing right up to the end, and this one definitely does. Bravo, Mr. Carey!