![]() While Chouette makes short shrift of Tiny’s career as a cellist, music holds tight as a way for mother and child to connect. ![]() ![]() Sanding the edges of her world against glimpses of a more quantifiable reality just out of shot, Oshetsky conjures two fictions at once: “My poor girl’s wings are bruised and battered from beating against her box,” describes Chouette’s mother as she snatches her from neonatal care.įrom metaphor to music, the novel is navigable via its constant invocation of sonatas and symphonies (“I hear Arvo Pärt’s plaintive duet for violin and piano, Spiegel im Spiegel, playing in my head”, recalls Tiny before her daughter arrives). And you’re the one who, one day, will teach him.” That openness is a way of life for Tiny, who prefers to speak in metaphor: “That way, no logic can trap me, and no rule can bind me, and no fact can limit me or decide for me what’s possible.”Ĭhouette’s magical-realist text mirrors that slippery ambiguity often, it is hard to decipher Tiny’s descriptions of how something feels from how something is. “All the time he keeps saying to me: ‘She needs to learn,’” muses Tiny, but “you don’t need to learn anything. ![]()
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