Title: Bonds of Love and Blood
Author: Marylee MacDonald
Genre: Short Stories, Fiction, Interpersonal Relations
Rating: 4 out of 5 Stars
In a way, these stories were all created with a purpose and a location in mind. Each story carried some sort of moral or understanding to be found in the end. They each felt so unique and the plot felt complete for each of them.
One of the Book club questions in the back of the book posed this great question that accurately sums up the stories connections. Pick one character and describe how their physical appearance or background shaped their life.
In Key West, the mother and son were not realistic at all. Their relationship felt like some weird rich family with a mom who babies every person she knows. It astounds me that her son made it all the way through college without anyone telling him off.
I did not understand Finding Peter. Why did Anna take the baby out of the apartment and hang him on a tree? Why not just leave him there? The neighbors know about the baby so it just made no sense. I thought she would at least steal the baby and make it her new son.
When writing in other languages, I would really wish people in general would spell check things. Such as sou desu (そうです) not so desu. The other stories didn’t even come close to include as much language as the Japanese themed story did.
In Tesekkür, I loved the older ladies view of the younger kids. She didn’t look down on them, she simply observed. Also I’m pretty sure those teens went off and had sex.
Each story was based in a different location that reflected the story and character. I loved each story’s uniqueness and the depth of the characters. Each one reflected either a cultural background or some sort of issue in burdening society.
As I mentioned before, I really love reading short story books because each chapter is different. Meaning, when you are a busy bee like me, reading these quick stories gave me time to process each one in between.
“I looked up. Clinging to the sheer rock wall were shrubs with dark green leaves and white blossoms. The flowers stirred. Like paper torn into squares, a cloud of butterflies floated above our heads. Blown by the breeze, the butterflies drifted away. I sipped my tea. Far down the canyon a persimmon sun hung above an indigo stream, and I settled back into my pillow.”
Tesekkür, pg. 139
Catch y’all on the next page!