Claire Oshetsky's novel is a marvel: its language a joy, its imagination dizzying. Every time I thought I had cracked Chouette's central metaphor - aha, it's about motherhood! No, marriage! No, music! - the book flew out my grasp like a wary bird. It's a truly exhilarating read.
Chouette is deeply felt, linguistically gorgeous, and wonderfully disorienting up to its final breathless pages-a stunning meditation on motherhood and identity truly unlike anything I've ever read before.
From the dark woods of motherhood, Chouette swoops - fierce, feral, poetic and deft. From an extraordinary beginning to its ecstatic end, I was gripped and held by this beautiful and deeply strange fable. A singular and inventive book about maternal instinct and helping the children we are gifted to find their own distinct forms of flight.
An intensely strange and moving novel, Chouette is unlike anything else. It renders maternal love with mythological ferocity. Weird and darkly witty, Chouette kept drawing me deeper into its wild and dangerous territories.
Chouette is a hypnotic read that captures the strangeness and ferocity of motherhood - poetic, dark and striking.
Viscous, tender, baffling, and glorious, Chouette is an unforgettable fairy tale that glitters darkly with Oshetsky's raw and soaring brilliance. Part love letter, part lament, Chouette astonishes as each perfected sentence burrows deep into the maternal shadows of love, possession, selfhood, and sanity. A bone-deep, breathtaking wonder.
Written in perfectly balanced prose, Chouette does what the very best fantastical work does: it renders a vividly absurd picture which, as we look closer, depicts our reality more sharply than any realism could do. Exuberant, maddened, and sly, this book gives more straight-talk about the vagaries of motherhood than a dozen how-to manuals.