Fences in Breathing Book

The difficult thing about reviewing this book is that, as a work of "innovative writing," there's truthfully not much plot beyond what's already given in the book description. Still, it's a strangely enjoyable read, not for the characters or the plot, but for the language. It's obvious Brossard is a poet, and in a way this book should probably be viewed more as prose poetry than as a novel. It touches on themes of translation, women's writing, and the post-9/11 age of the war on terror, all of which are treated as preoccupations in the protagonist's mind as she sits down to write a book in a language she doesn't speak, working through the language at the same time as her thoughts.

There are passages in this book that are really beautiful and that you'll turn over and over in your mind after reading: "In the distance, owls hoot in the half-light, then all the night's noises come crashing into the conversation. 'In your opinion, how many books were written in this chateau?' I haven't the slightest idea. 'Three hundred and twenty-eight. You should have seen all the poets. Only during the war years did I see so many worried faces that were, paradoxically, so alive. Several women writers stayed here. I can admit it now, I always did give them preference; but their stories weren't pretty. Oh, not at all, stories so violent that several didn't dare publish them. I did everything I could to convince them, but they were afraid, terribly afraid. Some of their husbands, some of not finding a husband, others of going to hell; others were simply afraid of themselves and the shame that would befall their family. Things were different back then.'"

Definitely pick this book up when you have time to read quietly, and don't expect to get through the entire thing in one go. It requires time in between sections to really think about what you're reading.