Praise for Trondheim
New York Times “Editors’ Choice” selection
Washington Independent Review of Books “Favorite Books of the Year” selection
Kirkus Reviews “Great Books From Irish Writers” selection
“Delicately and deeply probes the mothers and their relationship.” —Katie Kitamura, New York Times Book Review
“James’ elegant novel will leave [readers] shattered and uplifted.” —Washington Independent Review of Books
“Foster[s] profound reflections upon the characters’ individual and shared lives. . . . Poignant and prescient.” —North of Oxford
“Extraordinary and meticulous. . . . An X-ray picture of the subcutaneous breaks and sprains in a rocky relationship.” —Kirkus Reviews (starred review)
“Compelling throughout. . . . Trondheim is an exquisite novel that explores maternal love, the price of hope, and how bodies endure.” —Foreword Reviews
“An intelligent character-driven story of a lesbian couple. . . . The end result is a poignant meditation on grief, perseverance, and the complications of love.” —Publishers Weekly
“A luminous tale of forgiveness, love, and hope.” —Library Journal
Select Praise for Cormac James and The Surfacing
“Harrowing.” —Oprah.com
“Gratifyingly defies expectations.” —New York Times Book Review
“Highly original and poetic. . . . The writing sparkles with inventiveness.” —John Boyne, Irish Times
“The great topic of Cormac James’ The Surfacing is the reach of human possibility. The prose is calm, vivid, hypnotic, and acutely piercing. James is attuned to the psychological moment. . . . It’s a remarkable achievement, a stylish novel, full of music and quiet control.” —Colum McCann
★ 2023-10-07
When their son collapses, an unhappy couple travels to his bedside, leaving behind none of their exquisitely described marital baggage.
Together for a quarter century, Alba and Lil are enduring an ordinarily unpleasant day at their home in the south of France—house renovation, subterranean power struggles, overt bickering—when they get a call that their 20-year-old son, Pierre, studying in the Norwegian city of Trondheim, has had a heart attack and died. Resuscitated, he now lies comatose in a hospital. Pierre might wake up fine. He might wake up with brain damage. He might not wake up at all. Lil “had often fantasized that a great life crisis would bring focus and calm. How maddening, now, that Alba seemed determined to make it another version of their petty everyday game.” Maddening indeed, but Alba is hardly the only troublemaker in either the relationship or in Irish writer James’ delicate, incisive third novel. Blunt, horny, and unsentimental, Lil, a former rugby player, handles the stress of Pierre’s catastrophe by acting out: She hits a Trondheim gay bar, initiates a flirtation, hatches a scheme, drinks. Alba, moderate and more conventional, judges and withholds. Again and again, James captures with forensic accuracy the subtle tensions in the marriage. Consider Alba’s purchase of an airport coffee for Lil: “Lil peeled off the lid and peered into the cup. ‘That’s the way she gave it to me,’ Alba said. ‘What did you ask for?' 'If you don’t like it, don’t drink it,’ Alba said. This was the problem they called 'dairy.' It was an alibi, Alba knew, for something far more personal and far less precise.” Pierre’s medical situation is acute and dramatic, but the women’s marital troubles, mundane and chronic, are the real subject of this extraordinary and meticulous little book.
An X-ray picture of the subcutaneous breaks and sprains in a rocky relationship.