| Author: | Charlie Canning | ISBN: | 9781495180330 |
| Publisher: | Charlie Canning | Publication: | October 23, 2015 |
| Imprint: | Smashwords Edition | Language: | English |
| Author: | Charlie Canning |
| ISBN: | 9781495180330 |
| Publisher: | Charlie Canning |
| Publication: | October 23, 2015 |
| Imprint: | Smashwords Edition |
| Language: | English |
Notable Book, 2016 Shelf Unbound Competition for Indie Books
Charlie Canning writes intricately-contrived fiction with all the creative exuberance of Gabriel Garcia Márquez—delivered, paradoxically, in deadpan “just the facts” style. His previous novel, The 89th Temple, drawn from his PhD research and excerpted in KJ 78 (see also KJ 65), dealt with juvenile offenders, hikikomori shut-ins precipitated into taking the Shikoku 88-temple pilgrimage as correctional therapy. Thoughtful social commentary, brought resoundingly alive by an almost manga-esque crew of characters and a walking-pace plot.
His new book, The Sign of Jonah, ostensibly dealing with various intrigues that surround a disputed salvage attempt on a Japanese WW-2 warship off an island in the Philippines, is so character-driven that the plot seems simply an excuse to dive into the back stories and interactions of the novel’s multitudinous cast, the expatriate and local inhabitants of the island. The narrative’s unblinking scrutiny is cinematic in detail, but with none of the urgently-accelerated tropes of a cut-to-the-chase blockbuster action-movie. It’s more like channel-surfing a bank of surveillance monitors, zeroing in on successive individuals of interest. No heroes, no villains. Just stranger-than-fiction footage of imagined lives and interactions, in total 3D verisimilitude, with empathy for all.
Reflecting the author’s obvious primary interest, much of the interpersonal action is intercultural—but in far more interesting ways than simply contrasting locals and foreigners. On Bato even itinerant divers from elsewhere in the archipelago appear as beach-partying strangers who speak other languages, and perhaps communicate best through song. Church, business (legal and extra-legal), and the military are revealed as interlocking worlds with divergent modus operandi; the expats (from Japan, Switzerland, Germany, China, the U.S.A., Australia) who have washed up on the island’s shores are not stereotyped, nor are their motivations, interestingly. Another aspect of interculturality essential to the book’s setting in Filipino society is a constant interplay between the separately-defined social roles and expectations of men and women—even within marriages. Cultural conflicts are observed, not judged.
The 89th Temple dealt with apparent misfits created by pressures inherent in a supposedly homogenous society. The Sign of Jonah explores a far more multifaceted society in which everyone seems to find their natural place, while inventing their lives moment by moment—as we all do in “real life”— much like the process of an author creating a precisely-imagined parallel-universe work of fiction.
—Ken Rodgers in Kyoto Journal 87.
Notable Book, 2016 Shelf Unbound Competition for Indie Books
Charlie Canning writes intricately-contrived fiction with all the creative exuberance of Gabriel Garcia Márquez—delivered, paradoxically, in deadpan “just the facts” style. His previous novel, The 89th Temple, drawn from his PhD research and excerpted in KJ 78 (see also KJ 65), dealt with juvenile offenders, hikikomori shut-ins precipitated into taking the Shikoku 88-temple pilgrimage as correctional therapy. Thoughtful social commentary, brought resoundingly alive by an almost manga-esque crew of characters and a walking-pace plot.
His new book, The Sign of Jonah, ostensibly dealing with various intrigues that surround a disputed salvage attempt on a Japanese WW-2 warship off an island in the Philippines, is so character-driven that the plot seems simply an excuse to dive into the back stories and interactions of the novel’s multitudinous cast, the expatriate and local inhabitants of the island. The narrative’s unblinking scrutiny is cinematic in detail, but with none of the urgently-accelerated tropes of a cut-to-the-chase blockbuster action-movie. It’s more like channel-surfing a bank of surveillance monitors, zeroing in on successive individuals of interest. No heroes, no villains. Just stranger-than-fiction footage of imagined lives and interactions, in total 3D verisimilitude, with empathy for all.
Reflecting the author’s obvious primary interest, much of the interpersonal action is intercultural—but in far more interesting ways than simply contrasting locals and foreigners. On Bato even itinerant divers from elsewhere in the archipelago appear as beach-partying strangers who speak other languages, and perhaps communicate best through song. Church, business (legal and extra-legal), and the military are revealed as interlocking worlds with divergent modus operandi; the expats (from Japan, Switzerland, Germany, China, the U.S.A., Australia) who have washed up on the island’s shores are not stereotyped, nor are their motivations, interestingly. Another aspect of interculturality essential to the book’s setting in Filipino society is a constant interplay between the separately-defined social roles and expectations of men and women—even within marriages. Cultural conflicts are observed, not judged.
The 89th Temple dealt with apparent misfits created by pressures inherent in a supposedly homogenous society. The Sign of Jonah explores a far more multifaceted society in which everyone seems to find their natural place, while inventing their lives moment by moment—as we all do in “real life”— much like the process of an author creating a precisely-imagined parallel-universe work of fiction.
—Ken Rodgers in Kyoto Journal 87.
