Title: The Great Alone
My
Rating: 🌟🌟🌟
Book Description:
Alaska, 1974.
Unpredictable. Unforgiving. Untamed.
For a family in crisis, the ultimate test of survival.
Ernt Allbright, a former POW, comes home from the Vietnam war a changed and volatile man. When he loses yet another job, he makes an impulsive decision: he will move his family north, to Alaska, where they will live off the grid in America’s last true frontier.
Thirteen-year-old Leni, a girl coming of age in a tumultuous time, caught in the riptide of her parents’ passionate, stormy relationship, dares to hope that a new land will lead to a better future for her family. She is desperate for a place to belong. Her mother, Cora, will do anything and go anywhere for the man she loves, even if it means following him into the unknown
At first, Alaska seems to be the answer to their prayers. In a wild, remote corner of the state, they find a fiercely independent community of strong men and even stronger women. The long, sunlit days and the generosity of the locals make up for the Allbrights’ lack of preparation and dwindling resources.
But as winter approaches and darkness descends on Alaska, Ernt’s fragile mental state deteriorates and the family begins to fracture. Soon the perils outside pale in comparison to threats from within. In their small cabin, covered in snow, blanketed in eighteen hours of night, Leni and her mother learn the terrible truth: they are on their own. In the wild, there is no one to save them but themselves.
In this unforgettable portrait of human frailty and resilience, Kristin Hannah reveals the indomitable character of the modern American pioneer and the spirit of a vanishing Alaska―a place of incomparable beauty and danger. The Great Alone is a daring, beautiful, stay-up-all-night story about love and loss, the fight for survival, and the wildness that lives in both man and nature.
My musings:
I am feeling so very torn writing this review. I loved the
first ¾ of The Great Alone. No, I mean I really, really LOVED it! There is
nothing better than armchair travel into a wild and remote place, and The Great
Alone delivered that in spades. Hannah’s description of the harsh and yet
beautiful Alaskan landscape created images so vivid that I could have mistaken
them for real personal memories. I was living and breathing the story, and it
totally sucked me in.
Hannah certainly knows how to wreak havoc with her readers’
emotions, and she proves this once again with her latest book. Telling a story
of domestic violence and dysfunctional family dynamics through the eyes of a
beautiful and smart thirteen-year-old was always going to upset your average
reader, and the descriptions of Ernt Allbright’s violence evoked almost
visceral emotions of anger and fear as he terrorised his poor family. I thought
that she did a great job in portraying this man affected by PTSD, self-medicating
with alcohol to overcome his demons, misunderstood by society in the era the
book was set in. I have met men like him, and whilst I could not condone his
actions, my heart went out to him for the damage that had been done to him by
war. As the Alaskan winter approached, it was not only Leni who could foresee
the problems that the dark and confinement would cause the Allbright family –
the reader knows it, too. With the construction of the wall, tension built into
such a powder-keg of impending doom that I couldn’t put the book down until I
knew how this would play out. There was such great potential here for a
nail-biting finale that I felt totally devastated and let down when the story
took an about turn and turned into a mixture between a hallmark movie and a
tea-time soapie.
Apart from the melodrama, which was spread on as thickly as
vegemite on my husband’s toast, there was also the lack of research (or proof
reading) that let the latter part of the book down. Let me put it this way: I
know absolutely nothing about cars. If I was to write a
story where one of the main plot lines hinged on car trouble,
and wrote about my character accidentally loosening the screw on the
carburettor belt, which made the piston head explode into flames and the breaks
fail, it may sound credible to those members of the general public that share
my mechanical incompetence genes. However, any mechanically adept reader would
at this point most likely burst into laughter or develop chest pains! I felt
like that with the medical details in this book, which probably slipped past a
majority of readers, who took them for the fictional entertainment they were
supposed to provide. But I am a nurse, and those mistakes really bugged me! No
competent ICU nurse would ever leave her ventilated patient unsupervised in a
darkened room for visitors to walk in and out willy-nilly – or “prop up” a
patient in C-spine precautions into a sitting position. I lost a lot of respect
for the story after that, or perhaps it was eyestrain from exacerbated
eye-rolling at some other medical error that was committed for the sake of
drama.
As if that was not enough, at this point the story descended
into a YA romance / tearjerker that stood in stark contrast to the tense tale
of survival and family drama I had so enjoyed earlier. WTH happened? Obviously,
I am not the target audience here, as I avoid those melodramatic stories like
the plague, being much too old and cynical for such tearjerker moments. I
wanted to go back to the moment it all turned to mush, and follow through with
the careful groundwork the author had laid for a nail-biting finale full of
tension, danger and fight for survival. Instead, there were a few quick fixes, a
huge jump in the timeline and lots and lots of melodrama – I could hear the
violins playing in the background.
Summary:
So, how do you rate a book you both loved and hated equally?
It’s hard to even consolidate the two very separate parts of the story. I am
left feeling slightly cheated, as if standing in front of Ernt’s wall with the
door firmly bolted shut to the fitting end of a story I had loved. But hey, I
am one in a million and don’t let my old cynical self stop you from reading a
book 90% of readers obviously adored. Seldom has a book made such waves on
social media, so Hannah has found a formula that works for most of her
audience. Sadly, that obviously doesn’t include me. Whilst the Allbrights will
stay in my mind for some time to come, as I imagine different outcomes to their
story, the one thing I will take away from the book is the visual image of a
wild Alaska, and a truly magnificent armchair travel experience.
Good article really liked it
ReplyDeletesmm provider panel
Have a nice day