These weren't the first Canadians, they were the first Kvetchers. Not one has spine enough to sit upright, from the beautiful, abused wife of the shaman to the dreaming boy who thinks maybe if they go south, like, maybe there would be food there because, see, this wolf told him so. Or, not. Add a couple of cranky old ladies who both loved the same loser back in the day and wow, this is not to my taste. Plus, they keep eating things that sound terrible.
If you buy this, don't blame me. You were warned.
1 comment:
I have a distinct memory of loving this book when it first came out, and I was a surly goth 16-year-old. Now I'll have to re-read it and find out whether you just have no taste in good literature or my sixteen year-old self, who thought she had impeccable taste, was as bad at choosing books as she was at choosing girl- and boy-friends. Way to possibly destroy all my self-delusions!
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