Georgeann Packard

This review was written for LibraryThing Member Giveaway

I don't read much fiction and was dismayed when I saw it was in the present tense. I need not have worried since Paint the bird caught my attention from the beginning. It is the story of a female African American clergyperson, two painters, a homosexual couple and their son, along with the son's birth mother. And a fascinating story it is, especially since one of the main characters (Yago) died a few days before the novel's start. And the title adds to the fascination as well.

The author has named her chapters after colors used in paint. As a stitcher, I could not transfer the color to DMC floss numbers. (And from experience, I know that a painter sees off white as what I would call a mocha brown. I have the woodwork to prove it!) So I could not see how the colors related to the story.

I found myself trying to decide what denomination Sarah serves. She describes herself as mainline, not Baptist. She is called a pastor, which is used in the Lutheran and Presbyterian churches as well as many independent churches, but definitely not the Episcopal Church, which is the church of the surviving spouse in the novel. However, in the end, this fact didn't matter at all.… (meer)

Relationships as fragile as apple blossom grow from hearts as wounded as the small cramped fruit of an untended tree, needing space to mend, in this tale of lands and cultures separated by history and bound by inability to heal. The story is beautifully told and deeply rooted in the orchards of Empire, Michigan. The language is couched in the complex points of view of disparate characters and the heart-rending poetry of a warrior’s soul. Together with senses, growth and seasons, it all combines to make one truly beautiful novel that holds you tight and won’t let go.

Nobody’s perfect in this tale—some are maybe more imperfect than others, while many hide past sins and love all painted a different shade. Nobody’s evil, though there are deep mistakes behind each of us. Nobody’s totally true or totally false to themselves or to those they love. But two wounded protagonists—Christian man and Muslim woman—struggle through it all to find a sense of self, of a self worth believing in.

With much to heal and much to learn; with seasons of growth and nurture and harvest to come; with occupier maybe occupied, and landowner only leasing what belongs to the land itself; the place called Empire has a tale to tell, and these are its characters.

I love the poems and the poetry of this novel. I love the deep sense that these people are real (at least, real to me). I love the parts where I can relate and the parts where I can learn. And I love the seasons of the soul. The Occupation of Zaima tells an unpredictably beautiful tale, well-nurtured, splashed with coincidence’s cruel caprice like rainstorms in spring, and filled with the scents that cross cultures, the beauty of nature, and the sideways remembrance of heaven. It’s a truly haunting, captivating, sensual and powerful read.

Disclosure: I was given a preview edition and I offer my honest review. I honestly love it!… (meer)

Georgeann Packard's Fall Asleep Forgetting first came to my attention as a finalist for last year's Lambda Award. As a tale of interwoven lives (including a suicidal restaurateur, an adulteress, a jealous transvestite, a homophobic war veteran, and young tomboy who holds it all together), set in a rather unique trailer park, it manages to successfully hold its own against such a diverse cast of characters.

Although slow moving and, at times, a little repetitive, this is a wonderfully poetic story that is as much a joy to 'hear' as it is to 'read.' It takes a strange road to get started, jumping decades and characters, but there's a theme of loneliness that ties it all together. The story itself doesn't really get moving until the discovery of a body on the beach, but that's okay because it's an interesting ride getting there.

It may seem odd to talk of a story that's all about relationships, and to say it's haunted by a theme of loneliness, but that's part of why I enjoyed it so much. There's nothing obvious or expected about the writing, and you really have to accept the characters quirks in order to appreciate this scattered glimpse into their lives. This is also a novel about obsessions and excesses - sexual, emotional, physical, and culinary - and about the consequences of those excesses.

This wasn't the story I expected, but sometimes that's for the best. I would much rather be surprised and delighted by a tale, than to come away feeling . . . well, complacent. On the one hand, I think it could have benefited from a stronger focus on fewer characters but, on the other hand, I'm not sure it would have worked as well without them. I've thought about that for a few days now, and I still can't make up my mind, which is just fine by me.

I almost hate to say it, because it seems so obvious to me (yet hasn't been mentioned in a single review that I've seen), this is the kind of story that seems to cry out for a David Lynch screen adaptation. If that scares you away, then it's probably best that you take a pass, but if that intrigues you, I think you'll appreciate the read.
… (meer)