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"A large, lavishly inventive novel . . . an American descendant of The Arabian Nights . . . erudite and artful entertainment."--The New York Times Book Review At a Manhattan planetarium in 1965, ten-year-old Enzo is whisked away from his young adoptive aunt, Mala. His abductor turns out to be a blood relative: his great-uncle Junius Samax, a wealthy former gambler who lives in a converted Las Vegas hotel surrounded by a priceless art collection and a host of fascinating, idiosyncratic guests. In Samax's magical world, Enzo receives a unique education and pieces together the mystery of his mother's life and the complicated history of his adoption. Back in New York, Mala only knows that Enzo has disappeared. After a yearlong search proves fruitless, she enlists in the Navy Nursing Corps and on a hospital ship off Vietnam falls in love with a wounded B-52 navigator, who disappears on his next mission. Devastated again, Mala embarks on a restless, adventurous journey around the world, hoping to overcome the losses that have transformed her life. Fusing imagination, scholarship, and suspense with remarkable narrative skill, Nicholas Christopher builds a story of tremendous scope, an epic tale of love and destiny, as he traces the intricate latticework of Mala's and Enzo's lives. Each remains separate from each other but tied in ways they cannot imagine--until the final miraculous chapter of this extraordinary novel. "A writer of remarkable gifts."--The Washington Post Book World "This labyrinthine novel . . . is animated by an encompassing lust for beauty."--The New Yorker "[Nicholas] Christopher is North America's García Márquez; Borges with emotional weight. . . . This is one of those rare books that, by connecting the stars, catches you in its web."--The Globe and Mail Includes an excerpt of Nicholas Christopher's Tiger Rag… (more)
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The narration alternates between the aunt and Loren. Alma, who changes her name to Mala, tells her own story of her search for Loren and then for her lover whom she found on a hospital ship during the Vietnam War and lost almost immediately. Loren, who learns that his name is really Enzo, tells his coming of age story, which takes place in the Hotel Canopus in the desert outside Las Vegas, a hotel filled with lost people or people searching for what has been lost. Their stories sometimes parallel each other, intertwine strangely, yet are lived without any knowledge of whether the other is alive.
Lovers of magical realism, rejoice! This is a magical book that, whatever depths it may or may not reveal, tells a mesmerizing story.
Nevertheless, I am putting up a short review, just in case there is someone out there who might be in the same bracket I was in when I first encountered this novel.
I'm a sucker for (almost) anything astronomy - starry - space related. I have also enjoyed most examples of
So I tried to read it. And then I stopped. And I stopped because, although Nicholas Christopher certainly does sling loads of astro- and pseudo-astro-terms around, it is deadly clear that he never bothered to learn what any of them actually meant. Which, I'm sorry, I took as a fatal mistake that rendered the book unreadable.
Is Nicholas Christopher too cool for science? I don't know and I don't care ... but his book is on my personal "most disappointing" list. Boo.
I should have known better: it's my personal belief that no one sporting a last name that is also a first name is to be trusted. ;^)
Beginning with the separation of two unique characters, A Trip to the Stars works as a web of personalities and subplots, all as frighteningly believable as they are fascinating. The novel's unique tandem of science and fantasy is entrancing, a masterful journey of passion and hope in every guise imaginable. While Christopher's writing is poetic and clever, the story here is, in itself, worth falling into over and over again.
This isn't a book so much as a journey, and it is wonderful.
Update: while I was dissatisfied overall with this book, I am haunted by some of the images of Vietnam and the Cook Islands and every time I hear a lot of classic rock songs from this era I picture the stars over the South Pacific.