Divisadero (Vintage International) | 
| Author: Michael Ondaatje
Publisher: Vintage
Category: Book
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Avg. Customer Rating:  61 reviews
Sales Rank: 2007
Media: Paperback
Number Of Items: 1
Pages: 288
Shipping Weight (lbs): 0.7
Dimensions (in): 8 x 5.2 x 0.9
ISBN: 0307279324
Dewey Decimal Number: 813.54
EAN: 9780307279323
ASIN: 0307279324
Publication Date: April 22, 2008
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Amazon.com
From the celebrated author of The English Patient, comes another breathtaking, unforgettable story, this time about a family torn apart by an act of violence. Divisadero is a rich and rewarding read, one that Jhumpa Lahiri, in her guest review for Amazon.com (see below), calls "Ondaatje's finest novel to date." --Daphne Durham
Guest Reviewer: Jhumpa Lahiri
 Jhumpa Lahiri was awarded the 2000 Pulitzer Prize for fiction, as well as the PEN/Hemingway Award for her mesmerizing debut collection of stories, Interpreter of Maladies. Her poignant and powerful debut novel, The Namesake was adapted by screenwriter Sooni Taraporevala, and released in theaters in 2007.
My life always stops for a new book by Michael Ondaatje. I began Divisadero as soon as it came into my possession and over the course of a few evenings was captivated by Ondaatje's finest novel to date. The story is simple, almost mythical, stemming from a family on a California farm that is ruptured just as it is about to begin. Two daughters, Anna and Claire, are raised not just as siblings but with the intense bond of twins, interchangeable, inseparable. Coop, a boy from a neighboring farm, is folded into the girls' lives as a hired hand and quasi-brother. Anna, Claire, and Coop form a triangle that is intimate and interdependent, a triangle that brutally explodes less than thirty pages into the book. We are left with a handful of glass, both narratively and thematically. But Divisadero is a deeply ordered, full-bodied work, and the fragmented characters, severed from their shared past, persevere in relation to one another, illuminating both what it means to belong to a family and what it means to be alone in the world. The notion of twins, of one becoming two, pervades the novel, and so the farm in California is mirrored by a farm in France, the setting for another plot line in the second half of the book and giving us, in a sense, two novels in one. But the stories are not only connected but calibrated by Ondaatje to reveal a haunting pattern of parallels, echoes, and reflections across time and place. Like Nabokov, another master of twinning, Ondaatje's method is deliberate but discreet, and it was only in rereading this beautiful book--which I wanted to do as soon as I finished it--that the intricate play of doubles was revealed. Every sign of the author's genius is here: the searing imagery, the incandescent writing, the calm probing of life's most turbulent and devastating experiences. No one writes as affectingly about passion, about time and memory, about violence--subjects that have shaped Ondaatje's previous novels. But there is a greater muscularity to Divisadero, an intensity born from its restraint. Episodes are boiled down to their essential elements, distilled but dramatic, resulting in a mosaic of profound dignity, with an elegiac quietude that only the greatest of writers can achieve. --Jhumpa Lahiri
Product Description
From the celebrated author of The English Patient and Anil's Ghost comes a remarkable, intimate novel of intersecting lives that ranges across continents and time.
In the 1970s in Northern California a father and his teenage daughters, Anna and Claire, work their farm with the help of Coop, an enigmatic young man who makes his home with them. Theirs is a makeshift family, until it is shattered by an incident of violence that sets fire to the rest of their lives. Divisadero takes us from San Francisco to the raucous backrooms of Nevada's casinos and eventually to the landscape of southern France. As the narrative moves back and forth through time and place, we find each of the characters trying to find some foothold in a present shadowed by the past.
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| Customer Reviews: Read 56 more reviews...
Master of his Craft July 10, 2008
Michael Ondaatje is an excellent writer and story teller, and this book displays all of his skills. The use of common elements and themes throughout this book, which is really about five short stories knitted together with the frailest of threads. I suppose there are lessons of life, about priorities and gaps that are never closed or closed too late in our lives, often with severe results. The book moves along quickly and keeping the characters straight can be a chore, but if one takes the time they will be rewarded, this is a gem.
Relevant and enjoyable July 2, 2008
As someone familiar with Divisadero street, but not at all familiar with the wanderings of Northern California, I really enjoyed this book. Some of the tales - just what happened - remain unfinished - but at the same time it leaves you feeling that the characters are complete.
I have always enjoyed this author. His tales of Sri Lanka and overcoming conflict are a pleasure to read.
Lush Mosaic of lyrical love and lament.... June 21, 2008
1 out of 1 found this review helpful
DIVISDERO grabs the reader from the very beginning and the multi-layered, page turning plot reveals that the connections in time, both present and past, continually circle our lives to mold and shape us. We are ever haunted by these flowing and ebbing moments.
Reading Ondaatje's rich prose is like sitting down to a gourmand's feast and slowly working through the pleasurable, excellently prepared courses. It's as if a `courtesan of words' is seducing and dazzling you with unpredictable, intriguing stories. Ondaajte's descriptions are nakedly beautiful scenes of majestic texture and captivating imagery.
His poetic skills are woven into the narration with a subtle, yet radiant passion.
The novel at first appears to fashion fragments of lives as the story unfolds by flowing both forward and backward in time.
In time we realize the fluid connection, the critical moments that define and `circle' the unforgettable characters and create the dreamlike images and hear the elegant prose of his language.
The two distinct parts of the novel were difficult to align and didn't become fully realized until the very end.
Anna likens it to a villanelle...."this inclination of going back to events in our past, the way the villanelle's form refuses to move forward in linear development.."
Still, there were, for me, a few loose ends in the final pages that I would have enjoyed to have been tied up before closing this powerful, evocative tapestry...
Highly recommended!
 Disappointing read from Ondaatje June 17, 2008
2 out of 2 found this review helpful
Michael Ondaatje's Divisardo is the first novel I have read, or rather tried to read, by this critically-acclaimed author of The English Patient. I'm sorry to report that I was disappointed with this latest Ondaatje effort. So much so in fact that I didn't even finish it-which is a rarity for me. Once I get halfway through a book, I feel obligated somehow to finish it. Not so here. I got to page 191 (total page count is 273) and couldn't not go any farther. I thought maybe it was because I was eager to read Jay Asher's debut novel, Thirteen Reasons Why. I came back to Divisardo after completing Thirteen, but it was too late; I was too bored with the undefined plot line to read the rest.
Divisardo is, supposedly, about three children who are raised together, Claire, Coop, and Anna. Anna and Coop had an affair, and he turned into a professional gambler. That's as much as the non-linear structure as I could figure out. Well, Anna is studying French writer Lucien Segura. Other reviewers have mentioned the parallel of Anna and Claire with Segura's daughters, but I didn't even see a reference to them in the pages I read.
One of the biggest issues I had with the text was voice. All the characters sounded the same, and all were flat. Whether the scene was violent or sanguine, it became increasingly difficult to determine who was talking when because of the sameness in tone and voice. This is the one time that a varied sentence structure could have worked wonders for a piece.
The San Francisco Chronicle called Divisardo "Brilliant...plays whimsically with chronology and memory, with fantasy and historical fact." Author Jhumpa Lahiri called the work "a mosiac of profound dignity, with an elegiac quietude that only the greatest of writers can achieve." Me? I just went "huh?"
Armchair Interviews says: Heed this reviewer's comments.
 A Poetic Diptych June 15, 2008
5 out of 5 found this review helpful
Michael Ondaatje is a poet, and even as a novelist he writes as one. I don't mean simply his mastery of the English language; that is a given. At times, he is almost Olympian, as when describing the metamorphosis of a marriage: "There would be years of compatibility, and then bitterness, and who knew when that line was traversed, on what night, at what hour. Over what betrayal. They slipped over this as over a faint rise in the road, like a small vessel crossing the equator unaware, so that in fact their whole universe was now upside down." But he can switch effortlessly to the here and now, describing a fight in a thunderstorm, or a poker game in a casino, with an immediacy that makes the writing almost invisible. He can conjure up images that fix themselves indelibly on the cinema of the mind (or on the big screen, as anybody who has seen the movie of THE ENGLISH PATIENT will know); my favorite is a two-page description of a gypsy boy and his horse caught in a total eclipse in the South of France. One sentence must suffice: "Grey rain started falling in the half-light, though it was the wind that bewildered everything, arcing the trees down so they hovered almost parallel to the ground."
Ondaatje cannot describe what happens without also evoking how it feels. But he seldom attempts to describe a feeling directly. Rather, he creates something else to stand beside it, illuminating it by association, from the side rather than full on. A simple example is the consummation of the marriage between a French peasant, Roman, and his very young bride. He goes out in the moonlight to wash in the rain barrel outside the cottage door; after a while, she follows him and washes also. "After that she turned and put her arms out along the thick rim of the barrel where in the water was the moon and the ghost of her face. Roman moved against her, and in the next while, whatever surprise there was, whatever pain, there was also the frantic moon in front of her shifting and breaking into pieces in the water." In terms of narrative, Ondaatje could have set this scene anywhere, or omitted it entirely; but in terms of its place in the emotional balance of the whole novel, nothing else would have been so powerful or so evocative. Images of this kind, based on imagination rather than logic, are the essence of Ondaatje's poetic sensibility.
What of the story? The back-cover blurb is true as far as it goes: "In the 1970s in Northern California a father and his teenage daughters, Anna and Claire, work their farm with the help of Coop, an enigmatic young man who makes his home with them. Theirs is a makeshift family, until it is shattered by an incident of violence that sets fire to the rest of their lives. . . . As the narrative moves back and forth through time and place, we find each of these characters trying to gain some foothold in a present shadowed by the past." After the violent beginning (whose nature I shall not reveal), the story moves forward several decades, though with frequent flashbacks. Coop, private and principled and extremely likeable, has unexpectedly become a professional gambler. Claire is a legal aide in San Francisco; her path will eventually re-cross his, bringing about a sort of partial ending two-thirds of the way through the book. Anna has become an author under a different name, writing biographies (or biographical novels; it is never quite clear) about minor French literary figures. Currently, she is working on a poet called Lucien Segura, and staying in the house where he spent his last years; these scenes in a remote part of Southern France make a wonderful contrast to those in California and Nevada.
But just where you might expect Ondaatje to pull everything together, he drops Coop, Claire, and Anna almost entirely, and starts a new set of stories about Segura's younger years, his loves and marriage, his experiences in the First World War, and the gypsy family he befriends when he buries himself in his last retreat. The whole texture of the book changes. These are engaging vignettes, created in short chapters, poetical and imagistic rather than factual, and this reader was soon swept up in them as though by a new novel. Indeed, I found that I couldn't stop reading once this section had started, partly out of sheer affection for the characters and delight in the writing, but partly to discover how Ondaatje would finally tie the two parts of the book together. Somewhere along the line, I began to realize that he wouldn't -- except in the sense that Segura's story was essentially being told (or perhaps invented) by Anna, in much the same way that the story of the two lovers in Ian McEwan's ATONEMENT is extended in the writing of the younger sister Briony. So far from this being a single sweeping canvas, as the cover suggests, it is constructed as a diptych: two separate panels (Ondaatje himself uses this image, in a different context) that enter into a dialogue with each other rather than connecting directly.
DIVISADERO? There is a street of that name in San Francisco, where Anna apparently lived for a while, but the novel does not take place there. The sense of the word as "division" or "break" is obviously appropriate for this family parted by passion and scattered through space. But Anna points out that the word may also derive from the Spanish "divisar," to look at something from a distance. By the end of the book, Anna is indeed looking on from a distance, exploring her life in art, as Nietzsche once said, so as not to be destroyed by the truth. This is essentially what any great novelist does, and with it Ondaatje invites the reader into the heart of his craft. Yet he gives us an even greater gift; by avoiding literal connections between his two stories, but instead inspiring our imagination and trusting us to find our own parallels, he gets us not only to read his words as a poet, but to think and feel as poets in ourselves.
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