Divorce (and a horse named Jake)
Our Square of Sky
by Robin Lamarche
Gibsons: Prose-Star Communications, 2026
$19.95 / 9781068981890
Reviewed by Isabella Ranallo
*
Carmody is a teenager who, at first, doesn’t have it bad. Level-headed and discerning, she dedicates her days to her horse, Jake, on her family’s property on the scenic Sunshine Coast. Then comes the record scratch moment: her father has been having an affair, the other woman is pregnant, her parents are getting divorced, and they are selling their house, along with—worst of all—Jake. “I’m a seventeen-year-old kite in the wind of adult whims,” Carmody reflects poignantly in this concise close-up of a child coming to terms with their parents’ mess.
Robin Lamarche, who also lives on the Sunshine Coast, is a freelance editor, and that informs her writing in positive ways. She has a strong grasp on language, achieving a lyrical effect throughout the brief novel. Lamarche (Voices in Prose) captures the sensibility of a teenage crush during Carmody’s moments with Ash, the new kid in town, as well as she does the “pendulum” of emotions her parents’ split-up invoke. This pendulum metaphor is repeated throughout the novel to convey Carmody’s motivations in each scene. It’s an emotional roller coaster.
Understandably, Carmody doesn’t take to her father’s infidelity well and she isn’t afraid of revenge. She cuts the ends off his work ties, puts dish soap in his reusable coffee cup, and shoves a clam into his car’s AC vent. And more. Although it is amusing to read about the first few pranks, at a certain point, it starts to feel overdone. It’s even more jarring that Carmody’s dad lets her off without any kind of response. I suppose he’s feeling guilty, but at a certain point (clams, maybe?) he should start to feel angry too.
While the father is by and large an irredeemable character, there is one moment that probes at his perspective. “You think forty is old,” he tells Carmody. “It isn’t.” This struck me as a moment of complexity. The book is mired in Carmody’s teenage point-of-view, but everyone has their own story. The father’s, admittedly, being one of selfishness and mid-life cliché. Nevertheless, it was an interesting pivot that suggested a world outside of Carmody.
The narrative revolves heavily around the martial break up and, in particular, Carmody’s reaction to it. She becomes obsessed with the revenge pranks on her father, referring to herself as her mother’s “girl with a gun.” The mom doesn’t antagonize the dad, but she does cheer on Carmody behind the scenes. Not very healthy. At one point, the mom asks her if she thinks her dad loves Carmody. That was a jaw-drop moment. Not a very responsible question for a mother to pose, and something Carmody would remember for the rest of her life.
As a result, Carmody neglects her best friend, artist and fellow horse-girl Marilyn. Ash, the prospective boyfriend from Calgary, also disappears from the narrative for a long time. “You’re kind of letting it wreck you,” Ash says to Carmody once he reappears. Carmody’s neglect as a friend feeds unrealized purpose for Marilyn and Ash’s characters.
I feel very bad saying this, because obviously a child of divorce is an excruciating thing to be, but at a certain point, Carmody came off as self-absorbed and bratty. There was no sense of her life outside of her parents’ divorce.
Yet after dedicating herself to the moody lifestyle, she abruptly decides to take a diplomatic approach in what felt like a significant personality transplant.
If Carmody is annoying and selfish, she learned it from her parents. It’s a heavy read, and left me feeling depressed. As I neared the final pages, I found myself wondering: who is the target audience for this book? I can’t really imagine teen readers queuing around the block for a graphic story of divorced parents. The language is also more literary, which might not be younger readers’ style. Carmody’s narrative voice and concerns are likely too immature for adult readers, so who does that leave?
I think this book would mostly be enjoyed by a kid or parent who is going through a divorce in the family. And even then, it’s a toss-up between catharsis or heightened misery, depending on the reader’s temperament. I do hope it finds a kid going through their parents’ divorce and helps them, however. As for me, it just left me glum. But hey, that proves it’s evocative.
Ultimately, Lamarche offers a well-written and brutally realistic rendering of divorce in a short number of pages. Characters can be awful, but authentic. Carmody might act out, but she earns the reader’s sympathy. If you’re looking for a manual for the psyche of a seventeen-year-old whose parents are getting divorced, I’d say this is an honest representation.
*
At age four, Isabella Ranallo stole a sheet of her mother’s office paper to write the first page of a novel about ten kids stranded on a desert island. This led—with some twists and turns, like any good story—to graduating with a Creative Writing and History BA from VIU, where she was awarded the Barry Broadfoot Award for Journalism/Creative Non-Fiction and the Pat Bevan Scholarship for Poetry. Since graduation, Isabella has worked at the Rossland Museum & Discovery Centre as a research assistant; she currently freelances at Granville Island Publishing. Her work has appeared in the BC Federation of Writers’ WordWorks magazine. [Editor’s note: Isabella has reviewed recent books by Zoe Dickinson, Lacey Jones, Tara Hodgson, PP Wong, Thomas Mark McKinnon, and Arleen Paré for BCR.]
*
The British Columbia Review
Interim Editors: Trevor Marc Hughes (nonfiction), Brett Josef Grubisic (fiction and poetry)
Publisher: Richard Mackie
Formerly The Ormsby Review, The British Columbia Review is an online book review and journal service for BC writers and readers. The Advisory Board now consists of Jean Barman, Wade Davis, Robin Fisher, Barry Gough, Hugh Johnston, Kathy Mezei, Patricia Roy, and Graeme Wynn. Provincial Government Patron (since September 2018): Creative BC. Honorary Patron: Yosef Wosk. Scholarly Patron: SFU Graduate Liberal Studies. The British Columbia Review was founded in 2016 by Richard Mackie and Alan Twigg.
“Only connect.” – E.M. Forster
3 comments on “Divorce (and a horse named Jake)”
I don’t agree with the reviewer’s statement that the only audience for the book would be a kid or adult going through a divorce in the family. I think any teen going through a difficult time might relate, at least to the strong emotions, lashing out, and being so self-absorbed that you neglect your friends. Come to think of it, any of us, at any age, might need such a reminder when we get self-absorbed.
The reviewer was correct about the story being brutally honest, but I think it ended on a good note. It doesn’t take a “personality transplant” for Carmody’s change in attitude. She wakes up, thanks to some straight talk from two friends, to how she is wallowing in her emotions. She accepts the situation she cannot change, and takes control of the parts of her life over which she has power. Again, isn’t this a universal lesson from which everyone might benefit?
I enjoyed this story.
(From a senior citizen, never divorced.)
“Bah! Humbug!” to you, Cathalynn. Your remark suggests a critic is *supposed to* act as a kind of emotional support animal for a writer.
The reviewer above took the time to read the book and write about it. That’s support. She identified positive parts to the book, and then noted shortcomings too. That’s balance. In choosing to write about it at all – she could have started the book, realized she didn’t care for it, and changed her mind about reviewing it at all (with the result that I wouldn’t be here right now, writing about it). That’s being encouraging.
Your very Canadian call for the reviewer to ‘play nice’ like the other site reviewers you approve of is effectively censorious.
Michiko Kakutani and Pauline Kael – fierce, towering critical voices – never wrote a novel or made a film, but somehow managed to write incisively and sometimes harshly about examples of their chosen medium, so maybe that’s true for this reviewer as well.
I feel that the reviewer was quite harsh in her review of this excellent book. Perhaps, once she has gone through the grueling gauntlet of publishing her own debut novel, novella, or nonfiction book she will have a more tempered, balanced, empathetic, and encouraging approach to her reviews as do other reviewers of The BC Review.