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Water for Elephants: A Novel (Audio CD)
by Sara Gruen
| Category:
Life, Adventure, Human-animal bond |
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Author: Sara Gruen
Publisher: Highbridge Audio
Pub. in: June, 2006
ISBN: 1598870629
Pages:
Measurements: 5.9 x 5.1 x 1.1 inches
Origin of product: USA
Order code: BB00109
Other information: ISBN-13: 978-1598870626
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- MSL Picks -
Water for Elephants is a story about an old man's recollection of his days working for the circus, and the bizzare array of characters circus work attacts. The setting transitions between the wild memories of working as a veterinarian for a travelling circus, set in the 1930s, and the protagonist's present life in a home for the elderly, lonely and unappreciated. Themes of the book include romance, good vs evil, depression era desperation, and life in old age.
The main character is a well studied near-graduate from an Ivy league school who loses everything after a catastrophe and feels he must run away and happens upon a circus train. He ends up working in very rough conditions to survive, and struggles with a love triangle that puts his life in peril.
My personal affection for the book lies in the brutal conditions desperate people will endure, particularly for those who feel they have no place to go, as some of these characters do. I'm also very fond of the contrast of how the elderly protagonist struggles with trivial tasks, like wanting to eat a crisp apple, while his younger self survived through such turbulent times. Finally, the layout of the story, in which some details are revealed out of order through the time-transitions, enables the reader to piece certain details together before the main narrative gets to it feels like a device out of the movie Pulp Fiction (in a good way).
This novel is written based off of actual and anecdotal incidents of circus life (as per the interview with the author contained in the back of the book). The historical basis, however, is unnecessary to appreciate the vivid story but definitely made me appreciate the author's research to include tidbits of American history that might otherwise be lost. I found this novel to be the most compelling book I have ever read and literally lost hours of sleep over it.
(From quoting R. Lamb, USA)
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Sara Gruen is the author of the bestseller Riding Lessons and Flying Changes. She lives north of Chicago with her husband, her three children, four cats, two goats, two dogs, and a horse.
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From Publisher
As a young man, Jacob Jankowski was tossed by fate onto a rickety train that was home to the Benzini Brothers Most Spectacular Show on Earth. It was the early part of the great Depression, and for Jacob, now ninety, the circus world he remembers was both his salvation and a living hell. A veterinary student just shy of a degree, he was put in charge of caring for the circus menagerie. It was there that he met Marlena, the beautiful equestrian star married to August, the charismatic but twisted animal trainer. And he met Rosie, an untrainable elephant who was the great gray hope for this third-rate traveling show. The bond that grew among this unlikely trio was one of love and trust, and, ultimately, it was their only hope for survival.
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Only three people were left under the red and white awning of the grease joint: Grady, me, and the fry cook. Grady and I sat at a battered wooden table, each facing a burger on a dented tin plate. The cook was behind the counter, scraping his griddle with the edge of a spatula. He had turned off the fryer some time ago, but the odor of grease lingered.
The rest of the midway - so recently writhing with people - was empty but for a handful of employees and a small group of men waiting to be led to the cooch tent. They glanced nervously from side to side, with hats pulled low and hands thrust deep in their pockets. They wouldn’t be dis appointed: somewhere in the back Barbara and her ample charms awaited.
The other townsfolk - rubes, as Uncle Al called them - had already made their way through the menagerie tent and into the big top, which pulsed with frenetic music. The band was whipping through its repertoire at the usual earsplitting volume. I knew the routine by heart - at this very moment, the tail end of the Grand Spectacle was exiting and Lottie, the aerialist, was ascending her rigging in the center ring.
I stared at Grady, trying to process what he was saying. He glanced around and leaned in closer.
"Besides,” he said, locking eyes with me, “it seems to me you’ve got a lot to lose right now.” He raised his eyebrows for emphasis. My heart skipped a beat.
Thunderous applause exploded from the big top, and the band slid seamlessly into the Gounod waltz. I turned instinctively toward the menagerie because this was the cue for the elephant act. Marlena was either preparing to mount or was already sitting on Rosie’s head.
"I’ve got to go,” I said. “Sit,” said Grady. “Eat. If you’re thinking of clearing out, it may be a while before you see food again.”
That moment, the music screeched to a halt. There was an ungodly collision of brass, reed, and percussion - trombones and piccolos skidded into cacophony, a tuba farted, and the hollow clang of a cymbal wavered out of the big top, over our heads and into oblivion. Grady froze, crouched over his burger with his pinkies extended and lips spread wide. I looked from side to side. No one moved a muscle - all eyes were directed at the big top. A few wisps of hay swirled lazily across the hard dirt.
"What is it? What’s going on?” I said.
"Shh,” Grady hissed.
The band started up again, playing “Stars and Stripes Forever.”
"Oh Christ. Oh shit!” Grady tossed his food onto the table and leapt up, knocking over the bench.
"What? What is it?” I yelled, because he was already running away from me.
"The Disaster March!” he screamed over his shoulder.
I jerked around to the fry cook, who was ripping off his apron. “What the hell’s he talking about?”
"The Disaster March,” he said, wrestling the apron over his head. “Means something’s gone bad - real bad.”
"Like what?”
"Could be anything - fire in the big top, stampede, whatever. Aw sweet Jesus. The poor rubes probably don’t even know it yet.” He ducked under the hinged door and took off.
Chaos - candy butchers vaulting over counters, workmen staggering out from under tent flaps, roustabouts racing headlong across the lot. Anyone and everyone associated with the Benzini Brothers Most Spectacular Show on Earth barreled toward the big top.
Diamond Joe passed me at the human equivalent of a full gallop.
"Jacob - it’s the menagerie,” he screamed. “The animals are loose. Go, go, go!”
He didn’t need to tell me twice. Marlena was in that tent. A rumble coursed through me as I approached, and it scared the hell out of me because it was on a register lower than noise. The ground was vibrating.
I staggered inside and met a wall of yak - a great expanse of curlyhaired chest and churning hooves, of flared red nostrils and spinning eyes. It galloped past so close I leapt backward on tiptoe, flush with the canvas to avoid being impaled on one of its crooked horns. A terrified hyena clung to its shoulders.
The concession stand in the center of the tent had been flattened, and in its place was a roiling mass of spots and stripes - of haunches, heels, tails, and claws, all of it roaring, screeching, bellowing, or whinnying. A polar bear towered above it all, slashing blindly with skillet-sized paws. It made contact with a llama and knocked it flat—boom. The llama hit the ground, its neck and legs splayed like the five points of a star. Chimps screamed and chattered, swinging on ropes to stay above the cats. A wild-eyed zebra zigzagged too close to a crouching lion, who swiped, missed, and darted away, his belly close to the ground.
My eyes swept the tent, desperate to find Marlena. Instead I saw a cat slide through the connection leading to the big top - it was a panther, and as its lithe black body disappeared into the canvas tunnel I braced myself. If the rubes didn’t know, they were about to find out. It took several seconds to come, but come it did—one prolonged shriek followed by another, and then another, and then the whole place exploded with the thunderous sound of bodies trying to shove past other bodies and off the stands. The band screeched to a halt for a second time, and this time stayed silent. I shut my eyes: Please God let them leave by the back end. Please God don’t let them try to come through here.
I opened my eyes again and scanned the menagerie, frantic to find her. How hard can it be to find a girl and an elephant, for Christ’s sake?
When I caught sight of her pink sequins, I nearly cried out in relief - maybe I did. I don’t remember.
She was on the opposite side, standing against the sidewall, calm as a summer day. Her sequins flashed like liquid diamonds, a shimmering beacon between the multicolored hides. She saw me, too, and held my gaze for what seemed like forever. She was cool, languid. Smiling even. I started pushing my way toward her, but something about her expression stopped me cold.
That son of a bitch was standing with his back to her, red-faced and bellowing, flapping his arms and swinging his silver-tipped cane. His high-topped silk hat lay on the straw beside him. She reached for something.
A giraffe passed between us - its long neck bobbing gracefully even in panic - and when it was gone I saw that she’d picked up an iron stake. She held it loosely, resting its end on the hard dirt. She looked at me again, bemused. Then her gaze shifted to the back of his bare head.
“Oh Jesus,” I said, suddenly understanding. I stumbled forward, screaming even though there was no hope of my voice reaching her. “Don’t do it! Don’t do it!”
She lifted the stake high in the air and brought it down, splitting his head like a watermelon. His pate opened, his eyes grew wide, and his mouth froze into an O. He fell to his knees and then toppled forward into the straw.
I was too stunned to move, even as a young orangutan flung its elastic arms around my legs.
So long ago. So long. But still it haunts me.
I don’t talk much about those days. Never did. I don’t know why - I worked on circuses for nearly seven years, and if that isn’t fodder for conversation, I don’t know what is.
Actually I do know why: I never trusted myself. I was afraid I’d let it slip. I knew how important it was to keep her secret, and keep it I did - for the rest of her life, and then beyond.
In seventy years, I’ve never told a blessed soul. |
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Amazon.com (MSL quote), USA
<2008-01-21 00:00>
Jacob Jankowski says: "I am ninety. Or ninety-three. One or the other." At the beginning of Water for Elephants, he is living out his days in a nursing home, hating every second of it. His life wasn't always like this, however, because Jacob ran away and joined the circus when he was twenty-one. It wasn't a romantic, carefree decision, to be sure. His parents were killed in an auto accident one week before he was to sit for his veterinary medicine exams at Cornell. He buried his parents, learned that they left him nothing because they had mortgaged everything to pay his tuition, returned to school, went to the exams, and didn't write a single word. He walked out without completing the test and wound up on a circus train. The circus he joins, in Depression-era America, is second-rate at best. With Ringling Brothers as the standard, Benzini Brothers is far down the scale and pale by comparison.
Water for Elephants is the story of Jacob's life with this circus. Sara Gruen spares no detail in chronicling the squalid, filthy, brutish circumstances in which he finds himself. The animals are mangy, underfed or fed rotten food, and abused. Jacob, once it becomes known that he has veterinary skills, is put in charge of the "menagerie" and all its ills. Uncle Al, the circus impresario, is a self-serving, venal creep who slaps people around because he can. August, the animal trainer, is a certified paranoid schizophrenic whose occasional flights into madness and brutality often have Jacob as their object. Jacob is the only person in the book who has a handle on a moral compass and as his reward he spends most of the novel beaten, broken, concussed, bleeding, swollen and hungover. He is the self-appointed Protector of the Downtrodden, and... he falls in love with Marlena, crazy August's wife. Not his best idea.
The most interesting aspect of the book is all the circus lore that Gruen has so carefully researched. She has all the right vocabulary: grifters, roustabouts, workers, cooch tent, rubes, First of May, what the band plays when there's trouble, Jamaican ginger paralysis, life on a circus train, set-up and take-down, being run out of town by the "revenooers" or the cops, and losing all your hooch. There is one glorious passage about Marlena and Rosie, the bull elephant, that truly evokes the magic a circus can create. It is easy to see Marlena's and Rosie's pink sequins under the Big Top and to imagine their perfect choreography as they perform unbelievable stunts. The crowd loves it - and so will the reader. The ending is absolutely ludicrous and really quite lovely.
Valerie Ryan -This text refers to the Hardcover edition. |
Publishers Weekly (MSL quote), USA
<2008-01-21 00:00>
With its spotlight on elephants, Gruen's romantic page-turner hinges on the human-animal bonds that drove her debut and its sequel (Riding Lessons and Flying Changes) - but without the mass appeal that horses hold. The novel, told in flashback by nonagenarian Jacob Jankowski, recounts the wild and wonderful period he spent with the Benzini Brothers Most Spectacular Show on Earth, a traveling circus he joined during the Great Depression. When 23-year-old Jankowski learns that his parents have been killed in a car crash, leaving him penniless, he drops out of Cornell veterinary school and parlays his expertise with animals into a job with the circus, where he cares for a menagerie of exotic creatures[...] He also falls in love with Marlena, one of the show's star performers - a romance complicated by Marlena's husband, the unbalanced, sadistic circus boss who beats both his wife and the animals Jankowski cares for. Despite her often clichéd prose and the predictability of the story's ending, Gruen skillfully humanizes the midgets, drunks, rubes and freaks who populate her book.
Copyright © Reed Business Information, a division of Reed Elsevier Inc. All rights reserved. -This text refers to the Hardcover edition.
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The New Yorker (MSL quote), USA
<2008-01-21 00:00>
To replicate the salty vernacular of a Depression-era circus, Gruen, in her third novel, did extensive research in archives and in the field, and her work pays off admirably. The Benzini Brothers Most Spectacular Show on Earth is a roving fleabag ensemble of "cooch tents," "kinkers," and "hay burners," whose tyrannical m.c. is always on the lookout for "born freaks." Unfortunately, Jacob Jankowski, the novel's narrator and protagonist, carries less conviction than the period idiom. Recalling, near the end of his life, his work as a veterinarian for the circus and his love for a colleague's wife, he comes off as so relentlessly decent - an unwavering defender of animals, women, dwarves, cripples, and assorted ethnic groups - that he ceases to be interesting as a character.
Copyright © 2006 The New Yorker - click here to subscribe. -This text refers to the Hardcover edition. |
Bookmarks Magazine (MSL quote), USA
<2008-01-21 00:00>
Water for Elephants, Gruen's third novel, is a "cozy read" that has produced a "copious amount of buzz" (Cleveland Plain Dealer). No stranger to marrying the fates of her characters to animals, Gruen previously published the novels Riding Lessons (2004) and Flying Changes (2005), both of which focus on horses and horsemanship. Despite cries of "serviceable" prose, Gruen has done her research on the history of the period, in particular its traveling shows (illustrated here in 15 black-and-white prints). Jacob's search for lost time is vivid and atmospheric, his story told with passion and an eye for the curious and entertaining detail.
Copyright © 2004 Phillips & Nelson Media, Inc. -This text refers to the Hardcover edition. |
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