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Brookland

Joan Acocella, the New Yorker

"But, if the bridge doesn’t succeed in creating the hoped-for unity, the book does. “Brookland” itself is a kind of bridge, not just in its great span, from 1772 to 1823, and in its lattice of solid little parts—what the Winships eat for dinner (sweet-potato stew), how many dresses Prue has (one, brown)—but in its balance of opposing forces, above all, the forces within Prue’s personality. “Brookland” is certainly a feminist novel, a child of “Little Women” and “The Song of the Lark,” but, unlike the protagonists of those books, Prue is not a “natural.” She isn’t pretty. She’s a worrywart; she’s full of envy and remorse. She loves her family passionately, but she would trade them all for the bridge. The thing she loves best is her own mind, but she doesn’t trust that, either. She is not a “good-models” feminist heroine, nor is she one of the bad-girl heroines of second-stage feminism. She is a thorny, struggling soul. Together with the book’s profound treatment of the spiritual ills born of the Enlightenment, this wonderful character is Barton’s main gift to us." (Click here for the full text of this magnificent review.)

Christopher Corbett, the New York Times Book Review

"Marvelous. . . . So much modern fiction thinks small, feels small. Emily Barton will never be accused of either. . . . Large and complex storytelling. . . . Brookland turns out to be a story not just of risk, daring and ambition, but of the courage to fail--and the courage to live on after failing." (Click here for the full review.)

David Thomson, the New York Observer

"We treasure and enjoy some novelists because they offer us a world, and let us feel we can enter it like original inhabitants. It’s a going home, even if we’ve never been there before. . . . I don’t necessarily mean to suggest that Emily Barton is a full-fledged rival to Thomas Hardy—but Ms. Barton is only in her 30’s, the age at which Hardy had written Far from the Madding Crowd and not much else. In fact, I suspect that Ms. Barton already has more voices in her head than Hardy possessed, as well as a sturdier hope for the lives we lead. But what makes Brookland such an enormous achievement, and such a complete world in which to escape, is that this place is not Wessex (now full of antiques and cream-tea nostalgia—a dead end), but that corner of the world where the East River snakes around the edge of Manhattan island, the opportunity that Brooklyners and Americans have to inspect New York and wonder what happens there. . . .This is a long story, and one that unwinds slowly, but with stunning enough effect to satisfy the waiting. The patience to stick with Prudence comes from the steady beauty of Ms. Barton’s writing. There are two strands to the book: letters written by Prudence as a mature woman (letters that capture both the eloquence and the idiosyncrasy of early 19th-century writing by unschooled people), and a more withdrawn narrative that is seldom modern or up-to-date. I take this backwards look—the bulk of the book—to be the largest part of Ms. Barton’s research (evidently extensive) and her talent (seemingly unlimited). And it may be worth stressing that many Hardy novels were set not in the year they were written but in a prior age, lost and enchanted. Ms. Barton’s prose voice is as good and supple as anything being written in America today. But in its “period” tone (if that’s the word), it reaffirms the unswerving adage of the novel reader: Describe a world well enough and I am its member. This is the voice of a great novelist." (Click here for the full text of the review.)

Art Winslow, the Chicago Tribune

"Strip the saga from the family saga, and history-as-pageant treatment from the historical novel, and you end up roughly in the literary terrain that Emily Barton occupies in her heartfelt new novel, "Brookland." . . . For Barton, history is more than costuming and period color. In the Revolutionary years, for example, the king's soldiers still linger in Brookland, even after the surrender of Cornwallis at Yorktown (in fall 1781), and they are more of a presence in the novel than the stately figures of Washington, Jefferson and Franklin, mentioned only fleetingly as a reminder that the historical clock is ticking as Barton's characters age. History, as Barton uses it, becomes the set of everyday conditions that define the physical and psychological possibilities for her characters. So the fact that the king's soldiers have denuded Brookland, hacking down most of the trees, is as material as the Revolution itself in its immediate effects on the people we meet: ginmakers, farmers, sawmill operators, ferrymen, tavernkeepers, children. Likewise, while Barton's tale is multigenerational, the lives of the central characters are not epic in the sweeping, theatric sense. Why is it that historical novels routinely depend on characters "swept up" in the great moments of history? One thing "Brookland" demonstrates is the lack of necessity for such plotting: Characters can have gripping lives in gripping times, with the public and private events somewhat dissociated from each other, as in life. We should have guessed from Barton's first novel, "The Testament of Yves Gundron," that she would use genres for her own ends. . . . Yet uncertainty--the unknown, even when it is a sibling or a parent or a spouse in question--is the most intoxicating agent in "Brookland." (Click here for the full review. The Trib's website may make you register in order to read the piece, but the process is relatively pain-free.)

Tim Rutten, The Los Angeles Times

"In 'Brookland,' Emily Barton has taken an elegant way with questions of thought-provoking substance and has made a very fine and satisfying novel. And, if there is heartbreak at its end, those hearts are broken over things that mattered then — and still." (Click here to read the full text of the review.)

Marta Salij, The Detroit Free Press

"Some young writers you just need to know about, if you care at all about fiction. Today's subject: Emily Barton. I'll wait while you jot that down. In 20 years, when it's perfectly obvious to everyone that Barton is one of the great ones of her generation, please take that slip out and remember where you read the name. . . . The result is a novel as transporting as "Yves Gundron," but all the more remarkably so for being virtually without any tricks of narrative. This time, Barton's delicately realistic prose soars alone, illuminating the shadows within a heart. . . .You can find out for yourself if Prue's wish is answered. Mine has been, now that Emily Barton's second novel has arrived to fulfill the promise of her first." (Click here for the full review.)

Julie Brickman, San Diego Union-Tribune

". . . a work of such grandeur that it evokes Tolstoy's genius for scope and story." (Click here for the full review.)

Lydia Millet, the Raleigh News & Observer

"The deliberate primness of Barton's tone -- common to both "Yves Gundron" and "Brookland," which are otherwise completely different books -- makes her a strange and rare object among contemporary American writers. In a world of speed and irony and obliqueness, her unhurried gait and formal diction catch the gaze and hold it. She thinks deeply about her subjects; her imagination has unusually wide bounds; the austerity of her voice at once offers and withholds revelation." (Click here for the full review.)

Ruth Tobias, The Weekly Dig

"At the narrative center of Brookland, Emily Barton’s second novel, is a drawing—a sketch of the bridge that gin manufacturer Prue Winship dreams of erecting between Manhattan and Brooklyn at the dawn of the 19th century; however, it doesn’t so much depict a would-be architect’s invention as represent the fundamental need to invent in the first place. As it turns out, the willingness of its illustrator, Prue’s mute sister Pearl, to conform to Prue’s detailed specifications is finite; only too late does it become clear that Pearl has her own ideas about the way the world works, and an equally fierce capacity for expressing them. It’s not just that our creative urges define us; Brookland suggests that, even more than love, imagination makes or breaks us—or does both, even in the same moment. . . . Barton’s gift with Brookland, as with [The] Testament [of Yves Gundron], is to immerse you gradually in a part-historical, part-mythical world." (Click here for the full review.)

Sarah Childress, Newsweek

"Barton's novel weaves an engaging narrative of three sisters bound by unconditional love, their family's gin mill and simmering resentment. . . . compelling characters."

Vogue

"[A] capitvating tale . . . seamless, period-rich prose."

Allison Lynn, People

". . . in Barton's expert hands, Prue's ambition is frightfully real. . . . it's thrilling to see Prue in action, and gut-wrenching to watch her discover the high price paid by those who are blinded by ambition. 3-1/2 stars."

Jennifer Reese, Entertainment Weekly

". . . everything that stymies the the goal-oriented reader--unhurried essays on antique gin-distilling techniques, verbatim chunks of sermons, phalanxes of peripheral characters--makes Barton's stately period piece . . . a treat for the rest of us. In her account of an extraordinary woman's life in Brooklyn circa 1800, Barton has re-created the borough's brief pastoral moment in such lavish, precise detail that I can't think of a single recent historical novel that compares. . . . While female detectives may exercise their faculties in contemporary thrillers, mainstream fiction heroines engrossed in challenging jobs--as opposed to challenging cads--are rare. Which makes Brookland that much more of a rare delight. Grade: A-" (Click here to read the full review.)

Publishers Weekly (starred review)

"A major New York book of the season." (Read the full review on the PW website.)

Library Journal (starred review)

"[A] magnificent epic. . . . Barton's second novel is a breathtaking, heartbreaking mix of gender-busting innovation and the story of decent people living enormous lives in a close family whose secrets lead to explosive tragedy. Highly recommended."

Kirkus Reviews (starred review)

"No historical novel in recent memory has amassed such an imposing wealth of rich period detail, and few novels of any genre extend an increasingly absorbing story to such a powerful, sorrowful conclusion. A brilliant book that should be a strong Pulitzer Prize contender." (Read the full review by clicking here.)

Paul LaFarge

"Emily Barton is a literary inventor on the order of Thomas Pynchon or John Barth. In Brookland, she has made a time machine for us to travel back to Brooklyn in the eighteenth century, where we accompany Prudence Winship on a remarkable apprenticeship and a still more extraordinary career. We'll meet everyone worth knowing, and learn everything worth learning, not only about gin, and bridge-building, but about sisters and fathers and husbands and the power of the imagination to shape the world. Barton's story is patient, tender, encyclopedic and completely absorbing."

Katharine Weber

"Brookland is a marvelously beguiling novel. From first elegant page to last, Emily Barton has rendered an enticing story, one both moving and entertaining at every level. It's a dazzling and thrilling read, truly an exemplar of modern literature."

Aaron Hamburger's interview for Small Spiral Notebook

Wendy Smith's interview for Newsday

Kelly McMasters, Time Out New York

A picture and a funny reference on Galleycat. (Scroll down to Thursday/Friday April 20/21 to see them.)

 

The Testament of Yves Gundron

Thomas Pynchon

"Blessedly post-ironic, engaging and heartfelt--a story that moves with ease and certainty, deeply respecting the given world even as it shines with the integrity of dream."

Publishers Weekly (starred review)

"Few emerging novelists--or experienced ones--could handle the kinds of challenges Barton deftly accepts in this triumphant debut. . . . For all of her storytelling prowess--and this book is exuberant with story--Barton's real asset is her febrile imagination. Mandragora's quotidian routines are detailed so convincingly, and so lovingly that the reader starts to resent the encroaching future, with ‘its hum and its terrible energy,’ as much as Yves himself does. Barton's intelligent and amusing facility with idioms and speech patterns rooted in Middle English injects a dynamic historical feel into her truly visionary project."

Marta Salij, Chicago Tribune

"Rare is the author who can reimagine the fall of man and make it neither tragedy nor farce, but something delicately and illuminatingly balanced between. Rare, too, is the perspective Emily Barton takes for the audacious fable that is The Testament of Yves Gundron. She invokes a world that teeters before a likely ruinous progress and asks: What does it mean to be modern? Is it the acquisition of technology? The abandonment of the past? Or the ambivalence of embracing and repelling the future? Her answers might not be what you expect."

Library Journal (starred review)

"Delightful . . . The best aspect of this well-written book is that it lends itself to debate--what is progress?, is it so important? . . . Highly recommended."

Kirkus Reviews (starred review)

"A commanding and extraordinarily accomplished debut."

Booklist

"Fully and wittily imagined, written in heightened language that never falters of grows slack. . . . Barton’s language is beautiful and shapely and . . . lovely touches of magic add a wonderful texture. . . . A sly, joyous read."

Mark Rozzo, Los Angeles Times Book Review

"Inventive. . . . Barton’s novel isn’t about postmodern gamesmanship; it’s a heartfelt vision of a hardscrabble Shangri-La on the verge of being hauled into the shocking light of the present."

Talk Magazine

"Emily Barton's debut novel is destined to alter the landscape of contemporary literature."

John Freeman, Time Out New York

"An engrossing folktale that, in our technology-crazed era, ought to be required reading."

Adam Begley, The New York Observer

"Mandragora is a welcome escape from the veiled confessions of your average first novel. . . . Emily Barton knows about the moments, sometimes thrilling, often sad, when the invented and the wished-for converge--or collide--with unbending actuality."

Virginia Heffernan, Salon.com

Pauline Uchmanowicz, Chronogram