A review by ryangessner
The Tiger's Wife by Téa Obreht
4.0
I loved this book. Do you know those novels that are split into multiple stories threaded together? And there’s always one story you like least, or that bores you, and so you spend a lot of time muttering “come on, get back to the good part”? This book is all good parts. I loved the story of the remote town terrified of a tiger haunting the woods in the mountains above, I loved the story of the “deathless man”, cursed to never die but to always know when other would die, but I really loved the overarching story of a young woman’s love for her grandfather, and her captivation as he tells her his stories, or reads to her from his worn copy of The Jungle Book. And it doesn’t hurt that Obreht is a simply marvelous writer:
Without knowing I missed them, I wanted Bob Dylan and Paul Simon and Johnny Cash. The first time Ori got me out of the car, he led me across the dock to where his three-legged mutt was guarding an overturned crate, and showed me his stash, alphabetized, the lyrics mistranslated and handwritten on notepaper that had been carefully folded and stuffed into the tape boxes. By some miracle, he had a Walkman, which almost made him worth dating in and of itself, and we sat on the floor behind his table, one earbud each, and he took me through his collection and put his hand on my thigh. When, after a few weeks of saving up, I tried to buy Graceland, he said, “There’s a war on, your money’s no good”, and kissed me.
Without knowing I missed them, I wanted Bob Dylan and Paul Simon and Johnny Cash. The first time Ori got me out of the car, he led me across the dock to where his three-legged mutt was guarding an overturned crate, and showed me his stash, alphabetized, the lyrics mistranslated and handwritten on notepaper that had been carefully folded and stuffed into the tape boxes. By some miracle, he had a Walkman, which almost made him worth dating in and of itself, and we sat on the floor behind his table, one earbud each, and he took me through his collection and put his hand on my thigh. When, after a few weeks of saving up, I tried to buy Graceland, he said, “There’s a war on, your money’s no good”, and kissed me.