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The New Moon's Arms
First it's her mother's missing gold brooch. Then, a blue and white dish she hasn't seen in years. Followed by an entire grove of cashew trees.
When objects begin appearing out of nowhere, Calamity knows that the special gift she has not felt since childhood has returned-her ability to find lost things. Calamity, a woman as contrary as the tides around her Caribbean island home, is confronting two of life's biggest dramas. First is the death of her father, who raised her alone until a pregnant Calamity rejected him when she was sixteen years old. The second drama: she's starting menopause. Now when she has a hot flash and feels a tingling in her hands, she knows it's a lost object calling to her.
Then she finds something unexpected: a four-year-old boy washes up on the shore, his dreadlocked hair matted with shells. Calamity decides to take the orphaned child into her care, which brings unexpected upheaval into her life and further strains her relationship with her adult daughter. Fostering this child will force her to confront all the memories of her own childhood-and the disappearance of her mother so many years before.
When objects begin appearing out of nowhere, Calamity knows that the special gift she has not felt since childhood has returned-her ability to find lost things. Calamity, a woman as contrary as the tides around her Caribbean island home, is confronting two of life's biggest dramas. First is the death of her father, who raised her alone until a pregnant Calamity rejected him when she was sixteen years old. The second drama: she's starting menopause. Now when she has a hot flash and feels a tingling in her hands, she knows it's a lost object calling to her.
Then she finds something unexpected: a four-year-old boy washes up on the shore, his dreadlocked hair matted with shells. Calamity decides to take the orphaned child into her care, which brings unexpected upheaval into her life and further strains her relationship with her adult daughter. Fostering this child will force her to confront all the memories of her own childhood-and the disappearance of her mother so many years before.
276 pages, Kindle Edition
First published January 1, 2007
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2,338 people want to read
About the author
Nalo Hopkinson
142Ìýbooks1,991ÌýfollowersNalo Hopkinson is a Jamaican-born writer and editor who lives in Canada. Her science fiction and fantasy novels and short stories often draw on Caribbean history and language, and its traditions of oral and written storytelling.
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June 11, 2012
Nalo Hopkinson is not Margaret Atwood.
This may seem like a strange and perhaps obvious epiphany to have. Indeed, some of you might be advanced enough not to need to read an entire book before arriving at it. Some of you might be even further advanced (say, doctorate in philosophy) and question the veracity of this proposition. So allow me to explain what I mean, and you philosophers can decide for yourself.
I should explain that there are things about Nalo Hopkinson, or specifically about The New Moon’s Arms, that remind me of Atwood and her writing. Mainly, Calamity Lambkin is a woman coming to terms with the fact that she has accumulated a lot of past. She has reached a point in life where people have begun to treat her differently—she’s the matriarch instead of the woman, the mother instead of the lover. Calamity has reached the point where one becomes incredibly, sometimes dishearteningly, aware of the aging process. And as this slow internal crisis comes over her, she finds herself in the middle of an external one, personified in the form of a boy who washes ashore one night, parents nowhere to be seen. Throw in a strained relationship with a daughter Calamity had in her teens and an estranged onetime gay boyfriend who fathered the girl, and you have a recipe for a very interesting, character-driven novel.
Calamity reminds me a little of Elaine from . Both women spend a lot of time reflecting on significant events that have shaped the course of their lives. Both set themselves somewhat at odds with other members of their community—Elaine with her fellow artists, Calamity with family and friends. Like Elaine, Calamity’s voice is peppered with wry observations about societal expectations that result from her age, gender, and employment. Both characters have romantic and sexual relations, but these are not the central purpose of the plot.
So in many ways, Hopkinson’s writing and voice remind me of Atwood’s—but their styles are very different, as are the perspectives from which they arrive at these observations. Set in the Caribbean Islands, The New Moon’s Arms infuses Calamity’s quest for self-discovery with a post-colonial tinge. Calamity’s fictional nation is beholden to international agreements that, in turn, encourage it to make deals with unsavoury corporations. Some of the people in the story are involved in these matters at quite a high level, though the matters themselves are always tangential to the actual plot. Thus, as background scenery, these matters telegraph a sense of wanting to move on—and catch up with—the wider world. They broadcast an appetite for progress that is troubling to some.
In contrast, Calamity exhibits a pragmatic spirituality about the world around her. She has the ability to find lost objects—where in this case, find means that objects, including entire cashew orchards, will manifest spontaneously without her conscious effort. This somewhat random ability disappeared when she was younger, but it returns to Calamity while she is at her father’s funeral. Along with the cryptozoological nature of the boy she finds and Calamity’s own memory of encountering a quixotic girl in the ocean, this ability contributes to the label of “magical realism� that The New Moon’s Arms has earned.
There isn’t a lot of magic in this book though. Calamity’s ability is ancillary; I think it’s there more to demarcate her allegiance to the older, more superstitious world versus the modern world. (Her ancient car is another such symbol.) Although some aspects of the modern world are definitely negative—the various political shenanigans come to mind—the old world is not all puppy dogs and rainbows. Calamity also has some fairly outdated—i.e., bigoted—views on homosexuality and bisexuality as well.
The father of Calamity’s daughter, Michael, is gay. He suspected this in high school; Calamity, desperate because she had a crush on Michael, talked him into “testing it out� by having sex with her. Well it turns out that turning gay people straight is not among Calamity’s miracle powers, and Michael eventually settles down with another man, Orso. Calamity’s mistrust of Michael’s “lifestyle� causes her to keep him out of raising their daughter. It’s unclear how much of her bigotry is actually a misdirected, generalized sense of enmity towards Michael because of his role in her unexpected pregnancy. Would she still be homophobic if she had never had sex with Michael, if she had never gotten pregnant? I don’t know.
I like that Hopkinson leaves this open to interpretation, much as I like that she makes Calamity a very fallible and flawed person. Calamity is no saint, a textbook case of the unsympathetic protagonist. I like that she has flaws even if I don’t particularly like her.
Why only three stars? I wish the story had been developed somewhat more deeply. For example, there are some infrequent scenes in which a man who works at the Zooquarium is counting the number of monk seals in the habitat. Their varying number mirrors the observations of Hector Goonan, a marine biologist trying to take a seal census around the island. There’s a narrative purpose for these scenes, one related to the mystery of the child whom Calamity saves. Hopkinson draws on some very old and sometimes obscure mythology, and I feel that she could have made richer connections. Perhaps she didn’t want to become burdened by that same mythology—she picked exactly and only what she needed to tell the story. But I think it’s still missing something to make it truly compelling.
The New Moon’s Arms is a book that rests almost entirely on the strength of its narrator and main character, Calamity Lambkin. You might not like her—though it would be more accurate to say you’ll love her sense of humour and her independence but hate her when she is judgemental and closed-minded. She is, in that sense, a very real and three-dimensional character. The story doesn’t quite do her justice, for it doesn’t stretch enough to accommodate everything that Hopkinson has packed into her. But it’s sufficient. Like Margaret Atwood, Hopkinson succeeds in giving voice to a unique and sensible older woman whose self-determination is a central part of the story. In addition, she weaves elements of fantasy, mythology, and history into the book, creating an intriguing if not totally enjoyable work.
This may seem like a strange and perhaps obvious epiphany to have. Indeed, some of you might be advanced enough not to need to read an entire book before arriving at it. Some of you might be even further advanced (say, doctorate in philosophy) and question the veracity of this proposition. So allow me to explain what I mean, and you philosophers can decide for yourself.
I should explain that there are things about Nalo Hopkinson, or specifically about The New Moon’s Arms, that remind me of Atwood and her writing. Mainly, Calamity Lambkin is a woman coming to terms with the fact that she has accumulated a lot of past. She has reached a point in life where people have begun to treat her differently—she’s the matriarch instead of the woman, the mother instead of the lover. Calamity has reached the point where one becomes incredibly, sometimes dishearteningly, aware of the aging process. And as this slow internal crisis comes over her, she finds herself in the middle of an external one, personified in the form of a boy who washes ashore one night, parents nowhere to be seen. Throw in a strained relationship with a daughter Calamity had in her teens and an estranged onetime gay boyfriend who fathered the girl, and you have a recipe for a very interesting, character-driven novel.
Calamity reminds me a little of Elaine from . Both women spend a lot of time reflecting on significant events that have shaped the course of their lives. Both set themselves somewhat at odds with other members of their community—Elaine with her fellow artists, Calamity with family and friends. Like Elaine, Calamity’s voice is peppered with wry observations about societal expectations that result from her age, gender, and employment. Both characters have romantic and sexual relations, but these are not the central purpose of the plot.
So in many ways, Hopkinson’s writing and voice remind me of Atwood’s—but their styles are very different, as are the perspectives from which they arrive at these observations. Set in the Caribbean Islands, The New Moon’s Arms infuses Calamity’s quest for self-discovery with a post-colonial tinge. Calamity’s fictional nation is beholden to international agreements that, in turn, encourage it to make deals with unsavoury corporations. Some of the people in the story are involved in these matters at quite a high level, though the matters themselves are always tangential to the actual plot. Thus, as background scenery, these matters telegraph a sense of wanting to move on—and catch up with—the wider world. They broadcast an appetite for progress that is troubling to some.
In contrast, Calamity exhibits a pragmatic spirituality about the world around her. She has the ability to find lost objects—where in this case, find means that objects, including entire cashew orchards, will manifest spontaneously without her conscious effort. This somewhat random ability disappeared when she was younger, but it returns to Calamity while she is at her father’s funeral. Along with the cryptozoological nature of the boy she finds and Calamity’s own memory of encountering a quixotic girl in the ocean, this ability contributes to the label of “magical realism� that The New Moon’s Arms has earned.
There isn’t a lot of magic in this book though. Calamity’s ability is ancillary; I think it’s there more to demarcate her allegiance to the older, more superstitious world versus the modern world. (Her ancient car is another such symbol.) Although some aspects of the modern world are definitely negative—the various political shenanigans come to mind—the old world is not all puppy dogs and rainbows. Calamity also has some fairly outdated—i.e., bigoted—views on homosexuality and bisexuality as well.
The father of Calamity’s daughter, Michael, is gay. He suspected this in high school; Calamity, desperate because she had a crush on Michael, talked him into “testing it out� by having sex with her. Well it turns out that turning gay people straight is not among Calamity’s miracle powers, and Michael eventually settles down with another man, Orso. Calamity’s mistrust of Michael’s “lifestyle� causes her to keep him out of raising their daughter. It’s unclear how much of her bigotry is actually a misdirected, generalized sense of enmity towards Michael because of his role in her unexpected pregnancy. Would she still be homophobic if she had never had sex with Michael, if she had never gotten pregnant? I don’t know.
I like that Hopkinson leaves this open to interpretation, much as I like that she makes Calamity a very fallible and flawed person. Calamity is no saint, a textbook case of the unsympathetic protagonist. I like that she has flaws even if I don’t particularly like her.
Why only three stars? I wish the story had been developed somewhat more deeply. For example, there are some infrequent scenes in which a man who works at the Zooquarium is counting the number of monk seals in the habitat. Their varying number mirrors the observations of Hector Goonan, a marine biologist trying to take a seal census around the island. There’s a narrative purpose for these scenes, one related to the mystery of the child whom Calamity saves. Hopkinson draws on some very old and sometimes obscure mythology, and I feel that she could have made richer connections. Perhaps she didn’t want to become burdened by that same mythology—she picked exactly and only what she needed to tell the story. But I think it’s still missing something to make it truly compelling.
The New Moon’s Arms is a book that rests almost entirely on the strength of its narrator and main character, Calamity Lambkin. You might not like her—though it would be more accurate to say you’ll love her sense of humour and her independence but hate her when she is judgemental and closed-minded. She is, in that sense, a very real and three-dimensional character. The story doesn’t quite do her justice, for it doesn’t stretch enough to accommodate everything that Hopkinson has packed into her. But it’s sufficient. Like Margaret Atwood, Hopkinson succeeds in giving voice to a unique and sensible older woman whose self-determination is a central part of the story. In addition, she weaves elements of fantasy, mythology, and history into the book, creating an intriguing if not totally enjoyable work.
Read
April 16, 2017An extraordinary read. More magic realist than fantasy, with the inexplicable happenings woven into the fabric of life. Gorgeously written. Calamity, our narrator, is a profoundly flawed character, causing a lot of pain and damage (particularly in her homophobia and biphobia, which are really hard moments to witness), yet we still root for her to stop being her own worst enemy (and a dick). This is very much a redemption story, one of sea change and escaping shackles--in Calamity's case, of bitterness and the results of a hard, oppressive, fearful life. She's suffered, and hands the suffering on, and this is very much a story of learning to break those patterns and acknowledge the hurt you cause as well as the hurt you feel.
It is also a story of a menopausal woman. I have never *in my life* read a book about a menopausal woman where that was explicitly described and absolutely integral and ongoing. The idea we should keep it to ourselves, not discuss or acknowledge it, is so ingrained that I never even realised I'd never read a book about a menopausal woman--until I read one. And then sat here staring at my ereader with my mouth open.
Loved this book. Marvellous, magical, moving, menopausal.
It is also a story of a menopausal woman. I have never *in my life* read a book about a menopausal woman where that was explicitly described and absolutely integral and ongoing. The idea we should keep it to ourselves, not discuss or acknowledge it, is so ingrained that I never even realised I'd never read a book about a menopausal woman--until I read one. And then sat here staring at my ereader with my mouth open.
Loved this book. Marvellous, magical, moving, menopausal.
September 25, 2008
In her usual unique style, Nalo Hopkinson takes the often-told folk belief that humans and seals are related, and creates a great story. I loved her protagonist Calamity (formerly Chastity) who, instead of experiencing menopause in the usual manner, discovers that she has regained her prepubescent power as a finder of lost things. When she finds a child wrapped in seaweed, she is drawn into a world she briefly experienced as a child. Calamity is far from perfect - she is hostile to gay people because of an early romantic disappointment - but she always tries to do the right thing. Hopkinson's blend of myth, history, West Indian culture and speculative fiction never fails to entertain. A fine read.
December 27, 2020
"What she hit was not water, but an outcropping of rock that was hidden just below the surface of the sea. The impact was brutal. Her whole body electrified with the shock of it; a jangling that made thought, even breath, impossible. Chastity didn't know what happened from that moment until she awoke high up on the shore, well out of the way of the tide, in the lee of the sea grape bushes. Mumma was touching her shoulder and calling out her name. Mumma was crying softly. Chastity tried to lift her head, but the thrashing pain behind her eyes made her lay it back down onto the sand."
Nalo Hopkinson is an author that I have been meaning to read more from for ages now. That's on me for taking so bloody long to get into my second Hopkinson book. I'm glad that I am rectifying that now!
The New Moon's Arm was so damn charming!
Beginning with chaos at a funeral involving an older woman and a pair of underwear, the darkly humorous scene throws you immediately into Hopkinson's wondrous storytelling. I dare you not to chuckle!
Calamity, born Chastity, is a fiftysomething menopausal grandmother living in a fictional Caribbean town. She is going through some major life events, including the death of her father. The above-mentioned funeral was his. He raised her alone after her mother disappeared, supposedly lost at sea. Whispers have always surrounded the disappearance, with many believing her father had a hand in it.
Calamity was sixteen when she became pregnant with her daughter, Ife. This caused a rift in the relationship between father and daughter, which eventually saw them becoming estranged for decades.
Going through menopause has produced more than a few interesting symptoms for Calamity, most curious being a physic ability that she hasn't tapped into since she was a child before her mother disappeared. With the hot flashes come a power to retrieve objects that had once been lost. Found things are literally appearing out of nowhere - her mother's brooch, a toy truck, cashew trees.. a little boy that has washed up on the beach. She decides to foster the young sea boy with webbed extremities that she calls Agway.
This causes further strain on her relationship with her daughter and a host of issues, both of the fantastical and real world variety.
"You something else, you know that?" He sounded bemused. "You cuss like a sailor, you have a temper like a crocodile, but you more honest than any judge I know."
Hallucinations, magic and menopause!
Something that becomes clear in the early pages of The New Moon's Arms - Nalo Hopkinson is a masterful writer of dialogue. The conversations that take place within this just flow so damn authentically, like you are a bystander listening in. I don't think I've ever read a book with a protagonist going through menopause before, which is truly ridiculous. NORMALIZE MENSTRUATING AND MENOPAUSE IN SFF!!
Another thing that quickly becomes obvious - Calamity is a force to be reckoned with! There's something so completely endearing about her. She's fiery and stubborn as hell, she curses like a sailor and is kind and honest and ridiculously charismatic. She is someone who is extremely passionate, which sometimes gets her into trouble.
You truly feel as though you know her throughout this. When you know someone, you see their flaws. Calamity is deeply conflicted and Hopkinson brilliantly showcases that. One minute she has you laughing out loud, the next shaking your head with what is coming out of her mouth. In fact, she says some extremely discrimintory things during a tough scene. However, it's used because she is hurt. She feels emotionally drained and doesn't quite understand her feelings and doesn't want to address them. There is queer rep, but just be warned that there is some bigotry associated with it at times.
Much like The New Moon's Arms protagonist, Nalo Hopkinson is a dynamic voice like no other! Deviating from the usual SFF settings, Hopkinson's Caribbean landscapes are vivid and striking, the atmosphere is enchanting and the prose incomparable.
Nalo Hopkinson is an author that I have been meaning to read more from for ages now. That's on me for taking so bloody long to get into my second Hopkinson book. I'm glad that I am rectifying that now!
The New Moon's Arm was so damn charming!
Beginning with chaos at a funeral involving an older woman and a pair of underwear, the darkly humorous scene throws you immediately into Hopkinson's wondrous storytelling. I dare you not to chuckle!
Calamity, born Chastity, is a fiftysomething menopausal grandmother living in a fictional Caribbean town. She is going through some major life events, including the death of her father. The above-mentioned funeral was his. He raised her alone after her mother disappeared, supposedly lost at sea. Whispers have always surrounded the disappearance, with many believing her father had a hand in it.
Calamity was sixteen when she became pregnant with her daughter, Ife. This caused a rift in the relationship between father and daughter, which eventually saw them becoming estranged for decades.
Going through menopause has produced more than a few interesting symptoms for Calamity, most curious being a physic ability that she hasn't tapped into since she was a child before her mother disappeared. With the hot flashes come a power to retrieve objects that had once been lost. Found things are literally appearing out of nowhere - her mother's brooch, a toy truck, cashew trees.. a little boy that has washed up on the beach. She decides to foster the young sea boy with webbed extremities that she calls Agway.
This causes further strain on her relationship with her daughter and a host of issues, both of the fantastical and real world variety.
"You something else, you know that?" He sounded bemused. "You cuss like a sailor, you have a temper like a crocodile, but you more honest than any judge I know."
Hallucinations, magic and menopause!
Something that becomes clear in the early pages of The New Moon's Arms - Nalo Hopkinson is a masterful writer of dialogue. The conversations that take place within this just flow so damn authentically, like you are a bystander listening in. I don't think I've ever read a book with a protagonist going through menopause before, which is truly ridiculous. NORMALIZE MENSTRUATING AND MENOPAUSE IN SFF!!
Another thing that quickly becomes obvious - Calamity is a force to be reckoned with! There's something so completely endearing about her. She's fiery and stubborn as hell, she curses like a sailor and is kind and honest and ridiculously charismatic. She is someone who is extremely passionate, which sometimes gets her into trouble.
You truly feel as though you know her throughout this. When you know someone, you see their flaws. Calamity is deeply conflicted and Hopkinson brilliantly showcases that. One minute she has you laughing out loud, the next shaking your head with what is coming out of her mouth. In fact, she says some extremely discrimintory things during a tough scene. However, it's used because she is hurt. She feels emotionally drained and doesn't quite understand her feelings and doesn't want to address them. There is queer rep, but just be warned that there is some bigotry associated with it at times.
Much like The New Moon's Arms protagonist, Nalo Hopkinson is a dynamic voice like no other! Deviating from the usual SFF settings, Hopkinson's Caribbean landscapes are vivid and striking, the atmosphere is enchanting and the prose incomparable.
September 2, 2020
There are a few storylines going on here - Calamity's finding ability, her relationship with her daughter Ife, the mystery of Calamity's parents, the sea people, pollution and imperialism. I tore through this book, and I know I missed some things. I anticipate rereading when I have a little more time on my hands. Calamity is a single woman in her 50s, proud, raunchy, and adventurous. After her father's recent death, she wrestles with feelings of loneliness/ undesirability and Ife's dissatisfaction with how she was raised. A combination of mistreatment and Calamity's stubbornness/penchant for insults have led to her current isolation. She's pretty homophobic (uses slurs during an argument, keeps children away from gay men because she thinks they're pedophiles or a bad influence, thinks gay/bi men carry disease, etc.), which becomes a prominent part of the story around the 2nd half of the book. The gay/bi men in her life set boundaries around what they're willing to do for her and how they're willing to be treated while also giving her a lot of grace (imo). A lot of this book is about Calamity reckoning with her decades of entrenched behaviors and seeing the necessity of change and possibility for improvement. In terms of the fantasy, I'd say the focus is on Calamity's finding ability. Due to language and habitat constraints, the sea people storyline mostly happens in the background, although they are important to the story.
August 30, 2007
As a child, Chastity Lambkin could “find� almost anything; a mislaid book, lost change, missing keys � all she had to do was concentrate on the item and wait for the last two fingers of her left hand to tingle.
The day Chastity’s mother’s empty rowboat drifted ashore, Chastity stopped finding things forever. She dared not find the thing she missed most, so she couldn’t find anything at all.
Years later, 52-year old Chastity (now called “Calamity�) rediscovers her long-gone talent in the unlikeliest of ways and places. During her father’s funeral, the pin holding up Calamity’s supervisor’s underpants falls off, sending said bloomers to the ground in a moment of belly-aching hilarity.
When the dust settles, Calamity finds the pin on the ground beside her feet and slips it into her pocket. Later she realizes that it’s the monogram pin given to her by her mother and lost many, many years before. She connects the tingling in her hand to the found object in her pocket. The pin, it seems, is the beginning of something.
Over the next few days, Calamity’s hand tingles several times, accompanied by a hot flash and the reappearance of some long-lost object � her daughter’s favorite teddy bear, Calamity’s beloved childhood books, her toy dump truck, her missing hairbrush, her father’s cashew grove, lost in a hurricane that destroyed the island they called home, and a boy; a toddler washed up on the shore after a stormy night.
The boy is certainly Calamity’s strangest “find.� He babbles, but not in any language recognized by Calamity, her neighbors or the authorities. His fingers are webbed together. His ropy hair is matted and braided with seashells. He has rough patches on the insides of his knees that stick together like Velcro when they touch.
Calamity takes the boy, who she calls “Agway,� into her home, agreeing to care for him until his parents can be located. As she cares for Agway, delving into his mystery, she is forced to reconsider much in her life, including the truth of her own mother’s disappearance.
Hopkinson has crafted an unflinchingly honest tale of a woman at a crossroads in her life. Calamity isn’t always likeable. She’s gruff and unforgiving, unable to let go of past disappointments. She shrugs off the trappings of family, insisting that her daughter and grandson address her by her first name. She is stubborn, strong-willed and, sometimes, emotionally immature. But that’s just one side of the coin.
Calamity is, in many ways, a force of nature. She’s as moody as the sea she loves, and as solid as the trunk of the almond tree that reappears outside her bedroom window. She is fiercely devoted to the people in her life and oh, so human.
Calamity’s daughter, Ifeoma, is another great character. She’s her mother’s daughter in many ways, but with softer edges. Like her mother, she is facing big changes in her life. Like her mother, she is navigating those tumultuous seas with strength and courage.
The cadence of this novel is as soothing as the sound of the surf. Hopkinson uses West Indian dialect, fables and folktales to cast a spell over her readers. From the first page, she transports her readers to a place that seems almost magical. Time moves in a different rhythm, ebbing with the tides. Past and present exist alongside one another, and the line between fiction and fact is nearly nonexistent.
The ’s Arms is absolutely mesmerizing. I finished the last page sadly and closed the book reluctantly, unwilling to leave the roughly beautiful world I’d inhabited so comfortably for several days.
(review published in the Burlington Times-News, 4/29/2007)
The day Chastity’s mother’s empty rowboat drifted ashore, Chastity stopped finding things forever. She dared not find the thing she missed most, so she couldn’t find anything at all.
Years later, 52-year old Chastity (now called “Calamity�) rediscovers her long-gone talent in the unlikeliest of ways and places. During her father’s funeral, the pin holding up Calamity’s supervisor’s underpants falls off, sending said bloomers to the ground in a moment of belly-aching hilarity.
When the dust settles, Calamity finds the pin on the ground beside her feet and slips it into her pocket. Later she realizes that it’s the monogram pin given to her by her mother and lost many, many years before. She connects the tingling in her hand to the found object in her pocket. The pin, it seems, is the beginning of something.
Over the next few days, Calamity’s hand tingles several times, accompanied by a hot flash and the reappearance of some long-lost object � her daughter’s favorite teddy bear, Calamity’s beloved childhood books, her toy dump truck, her missing hairbrush, her father’s cashew grove, lost in a hurricane that destroyed the island they called home, and a boy; a toddler washed up on the shore after a stormy night.
The boy is certainly Calamity’s strangest “find.� He babbles, but not in any language recognized by Calamity, her neighbors or the authorities. His fingers are webbed together. His ropy hair is matted and braided with seashells. He has rough patches on the insides of his knees that stick together like Velcro when they touch.
Calamity takes the boy, who she calls “Agway,� into her home, agreeing to care for him until his parents can be located. As she cares for Agway, delving into his mystery, she is forced to reconsider much in her life, including the truth of her own mother’s disappearance.
Hopkinson has crafted an unflinchingly honest tale of a woman at a crossroads in her life. Calamity isn’t always likeable. She’s gruff and unforgiving, unable to let go of past disappointments. She shrugs off the trappings of family, insisting that her daughter and grandson address her by her first name. She is stubborn, strong-willed and, sometimes, emotionally immature. But that’s just one side of the coin.
Calamity is, in many ways, a force of nature. She’s as moody as the sea she loves, and as solid as the trunk of the almond tree that reappears outside her bedroom window. She is fiercely devoted to the people in her life and oh, so human.
Calamity’s daughter, Ifeoma, is another great character. She’s her mother’s daughter in many ways, but with softer edges. Like her mother, she is facing big changes in her life. Like her mother, she is navigating those tumultuous seas with strength and courage.
The cadence of this novel is as soothing as the sound of the surf. Hopkinson uses West Indian dialect, fables and folktales to cast a spell over her readers. From the first page, she transports her readers to a place that seems almost magical. Time moves in a different rhythm, ebbing with the tides. Past and present exist alongside one another, and the line between fiction and fact is nearly nonexistent.
The ’s Arms is absolutely mesmerizing. I finished the last page sadly and closed the book reluctantly, unwilling to leave the roughly beautiful world I’d inhabited so comfortably for several days.
(review published in the Burlington Times-News, 4/29/2007)
September 6, 2014
The New Moon's Arms is a perfect summer read. Set in the Caribbean, it is light splashy and fun and makes you feel like hanging out on the beach while reading it. Yet at the same time it is deep and touches on a number of issues. Parts are humorous, other parts very sad. Calamity, the leading character, experiences many life changing events at once; her father, who she has taken care of for years, dies, she starts menopause and every time she has a hot flash something she lost years ago appears out of nowhere and and finally, the day after her fathers funeral she finds a small boy who seems to have been washed up on the shore. People from her Island have whispered about the "Sea People" for years and Calamity is convinced this child is one of them.
December 5, 2017
Wonderful. Even better on the second read!
June 17, 2019
4.5 stars
January 9, 2016
Obligatory SJW alphabet soup notice: this book is by a QWOC and stars older WOC and QMOC. It is set in the Caribbean. Hooray.
This was a fun listen, although I had reservations at the beginning when the opening scene was the protagonist's father's funeral. Almost immediately, though, one learns that this isn't a sit around and cry kind of book. Our protagonist, originally named Chastity, renamed herself Calamity and intends to carry on that way. Indeed, things are getting increasingly calamitous now that she's 52, entering menopause, and the baggage of her younger years is coming back to haunt her in infuriatingly literal ways.
There is a lot going on in this book, which doesn't 100% tie together or get resolved, but I'm cool with that. I think stories should be allowed a little ambiguity, and this book has a lot. The most salient point of ambiguity is Calamity herself - although certainly an honorable and honest person, she's far from perfect and is easily the most "unlikeable" character in the story. She is stubborn, prejudiced, and unforgiving. The bigotry she exhibits doesn't go unchallenged, but she doesn't end up totally repentant and re-educated, either. Above all, this book conveys a great spiritual sense of its setting, the archipelago: tiny but interconnected, ancient but evolving, clashing with itself and others, always changing, and always surprising.
I do have one complaint with regard to the audiobook, which is that there is not enough of a pause between disparate sections. I'm talking different POV, different time, different place; and these sections seem to begin as the next sentence of the previous paragraph. I glanced at the physical book and this is certainly not so. Production matters, guys! Production matters.
This was a fun listen, although I had reservations at the beginning when the opening scene was the protagonist's father's funeral. Almost immediately, though, one learns that this isn't a sit around and cry kind of book. Our protagonist, originally named Chastity, renamed herself Calamity and intends to carry on that way. Indeed, things are getting increasingly calamitous now that she's 52, entering menopause, and the baggage of her younger years is coming back to haunt her in infuriatingly literal ways.
There is a lot going on in this book, which doesn't 100% tie together or get resolved, but I'm cool with that. I think stories should be allowed a little ambiguity, and this book has a lot. The most salient point of ambiguity is Calamity herself - although certainly an honorable and honest person, she's far from perfect and is easily the most "unlikeable" character in the story. She is stubborn, prejudiced, and unforgiving. The bigotry she exhibits doesn't go unchallenged, but she doesn't end up totally repentant and re-educated, either. Above all, this book conveys a great spiritual sense of its setting, the archipelago: tiny but interconnected, ancient but evolving, clashing with itself and others, always changing, and always surprising.
I do have one complaint with regard to the audiobook, which is that there is not enough of a pause between disparate sections. I'm talking different POV, different time, different place; and these sections seem to begin as the next sentence of the previous paragraph. I glanced at the physical book and this is certainly not so. Production matters, guys! Production matters.
November 4, 2018
This is an odd little book with a lot of unanswered questions at the end of it. It's a bit out there for magical realism, but I'm not sure what else to call it.
Calamity starts the book by burying her father. In the aftermath of the funeral, she suddenly hits menopause, but that brings back an ability from her childhood, amplified and strange. She can find lost things, but now it works a lot differently than it used to.
As her new/old skill returns, things get stranger. An old island legend mixes with an older one from elsewhere, and Calamity isn't prepared when something else new and strange comes into her life. How that works out, and whether or not Calamity is imagining at least some of this, is an odd tale.
Making her life more complicated is two old friends from school coming back into her life for very different reasons, a handsome stranger she meets on the beach, an apparently magical orchard, and a mystery from her childhood involving her parents, not to mention a very conflicted relationship with her daughter.
I wanted to like this book more than I did. Honestly, Calamity herself is part of why I didn't. She's hard to like, and has a serious issue with a particular minority that really kept getting me irritated. She's also just plain disagreeable a lot of the time. It might make her more realistic, but not any more likable.
Two legends seem to blur here, and I'm never clear on why. There's an election and some potential local corruption in the background, but I guess that's just for color? And I feel bad for the bemused man trying to keep track of seals at his zoo.
Decent read, but could have been better.
Calamity starts the book by burying her father. In the aftermath of the funeral, she suddenly hits menopause, but that brings back an ability from her childhood, amplified and strange. She can find lost things, but now it works a lot differently than it used to.
As her new/old skill returns, things get stranger. An old island legend mixes with an older one from elsewhere, and Calamity isn't prepared when something else new and strange comes into her life. How that works out, and whether or not Calamity is imagining at least some of this, is an odd tale.
Making her life more complicated is two old friends from school coming back into her life for very different reasons, a handsome stranger she meets on the beach, an apparently magical orchard, and a mystery from her childhood involving her parents, not to mention a very conflicted relationship with her daughter.
I wanted to like this book more than I did. Honestly, Calamity herself is part of why I didn't. She's hard to like, and has a serious issue with a particular minority that really kept getting me irritated. She's also just plain disagreeable a lot of the time. It might make her more realistic, but not any more likable.
Two legends seem to blur here, and I'm never clear on why. There's an election and some potential local corruption in the background, but I guess that's just for color? And I feel bad for the bemused man trying to keep track of seals at his zoo.
Decent read, but could have been better.
August 27, 2018
GoodRead
February 29, 2020
I don't know why I got this book! But I really liked it, except that the main character is a raging homophobe.
December 24, 2021
This is the second or third book I have read about merpeople in the Caribbean Sea, but my favorite so far. Calamity is a WIP, "hot-mouthed" and defensive, but learning to be humble and willing to learn that life is not exactly as she thinks it is. The book is full of larger-than-life characters including folklore, as well as a deft blend of history and modern times. I definitely recommend this book but also must warn that Calamity's attitude towards LGBTQ+ folx was hard to read, even if it's clear her mind and heart were changing. Her attitude is NOT a reflection of the author's, but a genuine reflection of how many do feel even now, so in that way, it was realistic. But that didn't make it any easier to read. I feel that warning should be there for folx reading the book who may be taken by surprise like I was!
December 21, 2011
Engaging and breezily quick read, the first I've read by Hopkinson and won't be the last. She has a smooth, liquid style that works really well with the story she's telling, and the character of Calamity--who is difficult and knows it--is fun to watch, though she probably wouldn't be all that much fun to actually live with. Indeed, most of the people around her, including her daughter, seem to find her a trial, and Calamity's own resistant and irresolute attitude to the inevitability of age begins to make her dislike herself. She's not a terribly likable protagonist; but she is, in a way, a sympathetic one.
Set on the fictional Caribbean island of Cayaba, The New Moon's Arms has the feeling of a story entered halfway through. While some flashback sequences and character memories sketch in the details of the backstory--just enough for us to understand how those characters exist in the present--Hopkinson paints with a broad brush, scattered with carefully chosen details to stand in for the rest. By and large, it works.
Hopkinson's characters stand out vividly from this backdrop: Calamity's daughter, Ifeoma; her friend and sometime lover, Gene; Ifeoma's father, Michael; Calamity herself; and, of course, the child Calamity finds washed up on the beach the day after her father's funeral and who she eventually takes in and begins caring for as her own. The relationships between these characters, past and present, drive the story: in a way, all of The New Moon's Arms is about unresolved tensions within those relationships, and Calamity's attempt to adopt the boy who, it becomes increasingly clear, is not what he seems emerges as a way of avoiding that very resolution. As such, the story is believable and true, and weaves the fantastic into an all-too-human situation.
The most prominent fantastic element, Calamity's re-emergent ability to find things which are lost, manifests in an interesting way. When I read the jacket summary I thought she would spontaneously come across lost or missing objects, and at first this does seem to be the case. After awhile, however, these objects begin to spontaneously appear, and not all of them are small. Though the reason Calamity lost this ability is eventually explained, it's not entirely clear why it re-emerges in her life when it does. However, by keeping the focus of the novel on the human relationships, rather than Calamity's ability, Hopkinson doesn't really need to explain it.
Unfortunately, some of those very relationships don't quite ring true. Calamity's homophobia is actually startling; for one thing, it seems to arise suddenly, far after the first gay character in her life is introduced. It is, perhaps, meant to be read as a response to rejection, but it doesn't really work. Calamity's behavior in this regard, and toward a few other characters, seems forgiven all too readily at the end of the novel, and there are enough other loose threads left over from an altogether too quick (and unfortunately predictable) wrapping up of the plot that the ending is ultimately unsatisfying. It felt as though it needed to be about half a chapter longer.
There seems to be a theme lately in the novels that I read of rushed endings, without all of the parameters fully thought out, or the plot threads fully worked out. This is frustrating, because I really wanted to like this book more than I did. But in the final chapter the story seemed to lose its patience and rush headlong toward the end, which is too bad.
On the other hand, while this is the first Nalo Hopkinson novel I read, it won't be the last. She's an excellent writer with good ideas, and I look forward to experiencing more of her work.
Set on the fictional Caribbean island of Cayaba, The New Moon's Arms has the feeling of a story entered halfway through. While some flashback sequences and character memories sketch in the details of the backstory--just enough for us to understand how those characters exist in the present--Hopkinson paints with a broad brush, scattered with carefully chosen details to stand in for the rest. By and large, it works.
Hopkinson's characters stand out vividly from this backdrop: Calamity's daughter, Ifeoma; her friend and sometime lover, Gene; Ifeoma's father, Michael; Calamity herself; and, of course, the child Calamity finds washed up on the beach the day after her father's funeral and who she eventually takes in and begins caring for as her own. The relationships between these characters, past and present, drive the story: in a way, all of The New Moon's Arms is about unresolved tensions within those relationships, and Calamity's attempt to adopt the boy who, it becomes increasingly clear, is not what he seems emerges as a way of avoiding that very resolution. As such, the story is believable and true, and weaves the fantastic into an all-too-human situation.
The most prominent fantastic element, Calamity's re-emergent ability to find things which are lost, manifests in an interesting way. When I read the jacket summary I thought she would spontaneously come across lost or missing objects, and at first this does seem to be the case. After awhile, however, these objects begin to spontaneously appear, and not all of them are small. Though the reason Calamity lost this ability is eventually explained, it's not entirely clear why it re-emerges in her life when it does. However, by keeping the focus of the novel on the human relationships, rather than Calamity's ability, Hopkinson doesn't really need to explain it.
Unfortunately, some of those very relationships don't quite ring true. Calamity's homophobia is actually startling; for one thing, it seems to arise suddenly, far after the first gay character in her life is introduced. It is, perhaps, meant to be read as a response to rejection, but it doesn't really work. Calamity's behavior in this regard, and toward a few other characters, seems forgiven all too readily at the end of the novel, and there are enough other loose threads left over from an altogether too quick (and unfortunately predictable) wrapping up of the plot that the ending is ultimately unsatisfying. It felt as though it needed to be about half a chapter longer.
There seems to be a theme lately in the novels that I read of rushed endings, without all of the parameters fully thought out, or the plot threads fully worked out. This is frustrating, because I really wanted to like this book more than I did. But in the final chapter the story seemed to lose its patience and rush headlong toward the end, which is too bad.
On the other hand, while this is the first Nalo Hopkinson novel I read, it won't be the last. She's an excellent writer with good ideas, and I look forward to experiencing more of her work.
December 26, 2014
I picked this from my bookshelves (one of the many to-read) to take on a trip to the Bahamas, and ended up reading most of it on the ship. The premise is interesting - a woman's father dies and as she mourns and hits menopause, her old "finding" abilities start coming back. Items from her childhood start reappearing (often dropping from the sky, but also an entire cashew orchard) and then a little boy washes up on shore.
I liked the setting although the island, Dolorosse, is imagined. The language throughout has a Haitian patois to it, and that alongside the description of the landscape and food makes it feel like a real place. But I liked the place far more than the characters. I sense you are supposed to dislike the main character Calamity but the rest of the people in the novel are a bit unknown to us, leaving me just with the character I didn't much like.
I liked the setting although the island, Dolorosse, is imagined. The language throughout has a Haitian patois to it, and that alongside the description of the landscape and food makes it feel like a real place. But I liked the place far more than the characters. I sense you are supposed to dislike the main character Calamity but the rest of the people in the novel are a bit unknown to us, leaving me just with the character I didn't much like.
March 6, 2020
Well written but it wasn't what I was expecting. This is more of a character study that happens in a world with magical realism than a plot driven novel. I just found myself not caring about the characters because there was no central conflict.
Calamity is extremely well written, though. As a character study of her, this gets 5 stars. I didn't see her growing or changing throughout the story, so it was more of a static character study. Other people might enjoy it. It wasn't for me.
Calamity is extremely well written, though. As a character study of her, this gets 5 stars. I didn't see her growing or changing throughout the story, so it was more of a static character study. Other people might enjoy it. It wasn't for me.
May 27, 2014
It was really exciting to read a book written in the kind of language I was born in to. While I have long ago lost my Jamaican accent, it all came back in reading this.
Unfortunately, the story of mysterious children etc etc did little to appeal to me.
Unfortunately, the story of mysterious children etc etc did little to appeal to me.
December 28, 2022
I tried out this book on a friend’s recommendation after I complained about the sci-fi/fantasy genre being overpopulated with morally pure 18 year old “Chosen Ones� rather than world weary moms and middle aged women who are more relatable to me. Cayaba Island’s Calamity Lambkin did not disappoint. Calamity is an intelligent, witty, sexually adventurous, hardworking, older single mother who is also petty, immature, traumatized, and frustratingly small-minded. She is very much in need of serious personal growth, some of which happens over the course of a story which involves the long ago disappearance of her mother, a magical penchant for finding lost things which reappears with the onset of menopause, and her becoming a foster parent to a mysterious sea child who may not be human. As she confronts the challenges of caring for an otherworldly toddler, Calamity is forced to confront the mistakes she made parenting her now adult daughter Ifoema as a teenage mother as well as some very ugly homophobic prejudices she has toward queer men in her life. The magical realism of the novel takes on a whole new dimension as Calamity struggles to decide whether the weird unexplainable phenomena she’s experiencing is supernatural or part of the huge change of life her menopausal brain and body are enduring. As the mystery unravels, the story reminds us of one of the hard truths of adulthood: that you can try your best to do right in the world and still screw up terribly from your own ignorance.
Finishing this story took a leap of faith for me. Calamity’s homophobic sentiments were very hard to read. I ended up Googling enough to learn that the author herself is queer and decided to give some trust as it’s pretty clear from the gay characters� reactions to Calamity that the author does not share her views. I’m used to homophobic characters written in stories as incurable bigots and generally tend to view people irl in a similar light. Nalo Hopkinson walked a fine line in writing a protagonist whose decades long prejudices have done actual harm to both herself and her family while still allowing the audience to have care and sympathy to root for her success and happiness. You’ll have to be the judge of whether Hopkinson succeeds. I’d argue partially. Overall, it’s a relatively light, relaxed pace plot with good suspense at key moments with a beautifully described setting of a changing island landscape and culture clearly known and loved by the author and I would highly recommend it.
Finishing this story took a leap of faith for me. Calamity’s homophobic sentiments were very hard to read. I ended up Googling enough to learn that the author herself is queer and decided to give some trust as it’s pretty clear from the gay characters� reactions to Calamity that the author does not share her views. I’m used to homophobic characters written in stories as incurable bigots and generally tend to view people irl in a similar light. Nalo Hopkinson walked a fine line in writing a protagonist whose decades long prejudices have done actual harm to both herself and her family while still allowing the audience to have care and sympathy to root for her success and happiness. You’ll have to be the judge of whether Hopkinson succeeds. I’d argue partially. Overall, it’s a relatively light, relaxed pace plot with good suspense at key moments with a beautifully described setting of a changing island landscape and culture clearly known and loved by the author and I would highly recommend it.
November 1, 2021
Once again I find myself violating my own rule of not reading fantasy.
I’m one of those Science Fiction people who resent walking into a book store or library and finding fantasy books intermixed with perfectly good science fiction. These are two separate and distinct genres; each deserving its own section.
So, you may ask, what in the world am I doing reading The New Moon’s Arms, which is clearly a fantasy book? I confess, I’ve become a big fan of Nalo Hopkinson. Since finding one of her books in my daughter’s home library, I’ve gone on to read eight more of Hopkinson’s books. As I’ve said before, that woman can write!
While there is a lot of fantasy, mysticism, and Island folklore in this book, in many ways all of that is just the stage upon which our protagonist, Calamity, lives her life. We have a woman who as a single teenage mother was kicked out of her parents� house, only to return as an adult to nurse her father for two years as he withered away from cancer. In fact, the book begins at her father’s funeral.
Calamity has had a hard life. She has been beaten down, deserted, and laughed at for over fifty years. Yet somehow she stands tall and strong, taking on everything the world throws at her. And it has thrown quite a bit over the years. She is; nearly destitute from being able to work only part time due to caring for her father, in a love-hate relationship with her adult daughter, desperately trying to setup some type of loving relation with a man, and battling her own lifelong demons. In the middle of all of that, Calamity discovers a half drown young boy on the beach with some unusual physical features.
Nalo Hopkinson’s fantasy book is really a story of discovery. For Calamity this means learning how to love and help herself by mothering this unusual boy. As most children do, he teaches her much more than she teaches him and opens up an entire new world for her.
So, even if the plot and genre of this book sound a little out of your comfort zone, please pick it up and read the first fifteen or twenty pages. I promise you that Hopkinson’s writing will hook you and you will not want to put this book down. In fact, I stretched out reading the last thirty pages or so because I just didn’t want the book to end.
I’m one of those Science Fiction people who resent walking into a book store or library and finding fantasy books intermixed with perfectly good science fiction. These are two separate and distinct genres; each deserving its own section.
So, you may ask, what in the world am I doing reading The New Moon’s Arms, which is clearly a fantasy book? I confess, I’ve become a big fan of Nalo Hopkinson. Since finding one of her books in my daughter’s home library, I’ve gone on to read eight more of Hopkinson’s books. As I’ve said before, that woman can write!
While there is a lot of fantasy, mysticism, and Island folklore in this book, in many ways all of that is just the stage upon which our protagonist, Calamity, lives her life. We have a woman who as a single teenage mother was kicked out of her parents� house, only to return as an adult to nurse her father for two years as he withered away from cancer. In fact, the book begins at her father’s funeral.
Calamity has had a hard life. She has been beaten down, deserted, and laughed at for over fifty years. Yet somehow she stands tall and strong, taking on everything the world throws at her. And it has thrown quite a bit over the years. She is; nearly destitute from being able to work only part time due to caring for her father, in a love-hate relationship with her adult daughter, desperately trying to setup some type of loving relation with a man, and battling her own lifelong demons. In the middle of all of that, Calamity discovers a half drown young boy on the beach with some unusual physical features.
Nalo Hopkinson’s fantasy book is really a story of discovery. For Calamity this means learning how to love and help herself by mothering this unusual boy. As most children do, he teaches her much more than she teaches him and opens up an entire new world for her.
So, even if the plot and genre of this book sound a little out of your comfort zone, please pick it up and read the first fifteen or twenty pages. I promise you that Hopkinson’s writing will hook you and you will not want to put this book down. In fact, I stretched out reading the last thirty pages or so because I just didn’t want the book to end.
March 17, 2021
A lot to like and respect about this book. A protagonist you never see in fantasy - a complex, layered, 55 year old grandmother. From the start she is hot tempered, easy to slight, and she has a difficult time seeing other people's point of view. Yet for much of the book you do understand much of where she is coming from, the difficulties that her life has led her to, and how it is hard to age - physically and mentally.
That really good balance tips over toward the end when her horrible bigotry come out in flashes. The book does not condone the behavior, but we also don't get a satisfying narrative conclusion of her making a big movie style revelation about the errors of her ways in treating Michael and Hector. Realistically, that isn't what would happen with a person in their 50's with views like this, but knowing that doesn't help make the story more satisfying.
The book also kind of writes itself into a corner with the child and the fantasy elements. Not really a way to make the plot wrap up nicely, but the part of the book that matters are the relationships.
That really good balance tips over toward the end when her horrible bigotry come out in flashes. The book does not condone the behavior, but we also don't get a satisfying narrative conclusion of her making a big movie style revelation about the errors of her ways in treating Michael and Hector. Realistically, that isn't what would happen with a person in their 50's with views like this, but knowing that doesn't help make the story more satisfying.
The book also kind of writes itself into a corner with the child and the fantasy elements. Not really a way to make the plot wrap up nicely, but the part of the book that matters are the relationships.
April 15, 2022
Who can tell a story like Nalo. The Caribbean is foremost, resonant with all that makes the region sparkle; with encroaching multinationals that threaten our natural balance, problematic behaviours and homophobia, complicated family dynamics, and a magic that is wholly ours.
May 26, 2024
I loved the language of this book and the woman- centric characters. It was a funny and interesting read. I cared and related to Calamity, the main character. Who knew a mid-life crisis could be so well entwined with a search for self, love and redemption
December 19, 2018
A fun mind expanding read. While this may be just confirmation bias I found the way that this book dealt with lgb issues to be interesting.
April 12, 2022
Superb
Captivating from the very first page. Best book I've read so far this year. Engaging prose. I thoroughly enjoyed how the story unfolded.
Captivating from the very first page. Best book I've read so far this year. Engaging prose. I thoroughly enjoyed how the story unfolded.
Read
June 23, 2023This would have been 5 stars if the MC wasn’t so homophobic 😒
March 30, 2023
It'd say this is probably my new second favourite Hopkinson (after Midnight Robber).
I really loved the whimsy of the magic realism this story had to offer, as well as the way that the story is grounded in Caribbean culture and history.
The protagonist, Calamity Lambkin, is a woman living on a smaller island off the coast of a fictional Caribbean island nation, Cayaba. Her elderly father, whom she had been caregiving, has recently died. She is going through menopause. She is haunted by the mysterious disappearance of her mother when she was a child. She has a strained relationships with her adult daughter - who was born when Calamity was 19 - and her daughter's gay father for whom Calamity carries a torch. She unexpectedly ends up taking in a foster child who turns out to have some extra-human traits.
Calamity is a complex character. She is too venomous to those around her to be wholly likeable. In particular [mild spoiler] her homophobia and biphobia are quite biting and much to my disappointment she never really overcomes them. I didn't hide this spoiler because I think it's an important content note. Her bigoted comments to people who love her are pretty hard to read. And yet, it's hard to totally dislike Calamity either. She is tenacious. Lonely. Courageous. Smart - about most things. She fucks up in her relationships in ways that are very human, putting her foot in her mouth and then beating herself up about it. I only wish her beating herself up involved some actual inner work to dismantle her prejudices. I wanted her to grow more. To genuinely apologize. To trust her family with her secrets. But the book doesn't give us that tidy closure that we long for in literature but so often evades us in real life.
There are some things left semi-unresolved in the plot. The explanation of her mother's disappearance is hinted at though not actually stated. The passages throughout the story describing enslaved people on ships are also implicitly but not explicitly tied to Calamity's lineage. I won't say more because of spoilers. I felt like enough was hinted at, I was okay with a little ambiguity where I could fill in the blanks, but I can see this being frustrating for some readers as it asks you to piece together a lot.
Despite the difficult elements I've mentioned, this is a beautifully told, richly descriptive, and creative story that is well worth getting absorbed in.
I really loved the whimsy of the magic realism this story had to offer, as well as the way that the story is grounded in Caribbean culture and history.
The protagonist, Calamity Lambkin, is a woman living on a smaller island off the coast of a fictional Caribbean island nation, Cayaba. Her elderly father, whom she had been caregiving, has recently died. She is going through menopause. She is haunted by the mysterious disappearance of her mother when she was a child. She has a strained relationships with her adult daughter - who was born when Calamity was 19 - and her daughter's gay father for whom Calamity carries a torch. She unexpectedly ends up taking in a foster child who turns out to have some extra-human traits.
Calamity is a complex character. She is too venomous to those around her to be wholly likeable. In particular [mild spoiler] her homophobia and biphobia are quite biting and much to my disappointment she never really overcomes them. I didn't hide this spoiler because I think it's an important content note. Her bigoted comments to people who love her are pretty hard to read. And yet, it's hard to totally dislike Calamity either. She is tenacious. Lonely. Courageous. Smart - about most things. She fucks up in her relationships in ways that are very human, putting her foot in her mouth and then beating herself up about it. I only wish her beating herself up involved some actual inner work to dismantle her prejudices. I wanted her to grow more. To genuinely apologize. To trust her family with her secrets. But the book doesn't give us that tidy closure that we long for in literature but so often evades us in real life.
There are some things left semi-unresolved in the plot. The explanation of her mother's disappearance is hinted at though not actually stated. The passages throughout the story describing enslaved people on ships are also implicitly but not explicitly tied to Calamity's lineage. I won't say more because of spoilers. I felt like enough was hinted at, I was okay with a little ambiguity where I could fill in the blanks, but I can see this being frustrating for some readers as it asks you to piece together a lot.
Despite the difficult elements I've mentioned, this is a beautifully told, richly descriptive, and creative story that is well worth getting absorbed in.
August 19, 2022
Finished this book two weeks ago and have thought about it almost every day. It’s really unique and very much worth the read. While the ending was a little Disney(?), there is so much complexity in the lead character and in the storytelling.
January 1, 2024
an masterfully realized narrative, expertly producing a vivid sense of character and place. calamity seems at once unique, with her full-force charm and flair up character flaws. and yet there is something slightly archetypal about her--nothing so strong as to raise the specter of 'stock character,' but surrounded by images and concerns of fertility or lack their of, one gets the sense of having met her before...most likely in a local grocery store, but maybe in a particular culture's mythology, or maybe many mythologies. nalo has also accomplished a rare feat by portraying the caribbean location and culture (both often simplified and romanticized) with ease and a sense of natural inhabitants. one never gets the sense that the culture or the place is 'exotic,' rather it is naturally home: filled with unique beauties and idiomatic frustrations.
the book was introduced to me as 'contemporary magic realism,' and it very much fits the billing. with wonderful appearances of the fantastic intermixed with mythology, history, and science. to my great appreciation, nalo's patrol of both medicine and physicians is pitch perfect. those characters who are doctors are neither angels in white coats or pretentious maniacs with God-complexes; they're simply human, sometimes acting admirably, sometimes acting like total twits. a physician couldn't have done a better job in this regard.
however, along with the magic realism motif comes the genre's declination to explain key elements of the world. the plot is thin and those savvy to the mythologies invoked will see through the central mystery fairly quickly. i'm bias here, preferring classical plot twists, surprises, red herrings, etc. when the ending came, it felt abrupt, and i could think of no good reason why the final resolution couldn't have been reached halfway through the story.
however, my gripes about magical realism and plot did not limit my enjoyment of this richly imagined and original novel. highly highly recommended.
the book was introduced to me as 'contemporary magic realism,' and it very much fits the billing. with wonderful appearances of the fantastic intermixed with mythology, history, and science. to my great appreciation, nalo's patrol of both medicine and physicians is pitch perfect. those characters who are doctors are neither angels in white coats or pretentious maniacs with God-complexes; they're simply human, sometimes acting admirably, sometimes acting like total twits. a physician couldn't have done a better job in this regard.
however, along with the magic realism motif comes the genre's declination to explain key elements of the world. the plot is thin and those savvy to the mythologies invoked will see through the central mystery fairly quickly. i'm bias here, preferring classical plot twists, surprises, red herrings, etc. when the ending came, it felt abrupt, and i could think of no good reason why the final resolution couldn't have been reached halfway through the story.
however, my gripes about magical realism and plot did not limit my enjoyment of this richly imagined and original novel. highly highly recommended.
July 27, 2018
This book was so interesting. At the start, it seemed like the main plot would be the protagonist's rediscovered ability to find things, but then it turned out the main plot was mer-people. I had expected we would find out what happened to Calamity's mother, and that there would be a lot of unresolved issues with the dead father (since the book starts at his funeral!), but again no. It felt a little like Hopkinson had had two different novel ideas, couldn't make either of them work, and mushed them together. There's a hint at the mer-people in the first chapter, when the zookeeper has too many sea lions, but it's not enough to really weave the threads together.
Calamity was also a difficult character to love, especially when she's being horribly anti-gay. (Trigger warning for that, by the way, I wasn't expecting it at all.) It did have the effect of making her feel more real. I feel like Calamity can get away with a lot, for me, by virtue of being a black woman character over 50 - how often do we see any protagonist with that combo of race, age, and gender, let alone in a sci-fi novel? But I would have liked to see her learn and grow a bit more to get past her prejudice.
All that said, though, it was a compelling read. I wanted to know what happened, and was rooting for Calamity to make things right. I would read another by this author. Q
Calamity was also a difficult character to love, especially when she's being horribly anti-gay. (Trigger warning for that, by the way, I wasn't expecting it at all.) It did have the effect of making her feel more real. I feel like Calamity can get away with a lot, for me, by virtue of being a black woman character over 50 - how often do we see any protagonist with that combo of race, age, and gender, let alone in a sci-fi novel? But I would have liked to see her learn and grow a bit more to get past her prejudice.
All that said, though, it was a compelling read. I wanted to know what happened, and was rooting for Calamity to make things right. I would read another by this author. Q
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
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