It took me a long time to write about this book. As a man lay dying he contemplated about his accumulated life. All parts of it. His grandson sitting next to his deathbed, the curtains he and his wife bought, the couch his relatives used to pass by him, the bocci balls used on the front lawn. At first it seemed to me to be a story about stuff. Appropo as it is, as I am living in my parents house sifting through years of their stuff. Meshed into the dying man is the story of his father who was a tinkerer, selling wares throughout the countryside in remote areas for pennies, literally. I thought about this at the first garage sale we had. "Will you take a quarter for these?" "No" I remember buying those charger plates for a Christmas dinner with Mom when ALL the family was coming to dinner. No, I will not take a quarter for those. That memory will cost you.
And so it was with Tinkers, it was the story of the accumulation of a life and most importantly the memories associated with the "stuff" we drag into it. With each piece and part comes a memory of our lives, and this it was Paul Harding so eloquently put down on paper. This book took a while to sink in but when it did it's meaning was magical. The language in the book was beautiful as well. An important lesson to us all.
Books I've read since then:
Portrait of an Addict as a Young Man
Never Let Me GO
A Thousand Splendid Suns
Nothing Left to Burn
Time is A river
Have Started Guard of Honor.....Rough reading so far.....