Ice Chorus, The [Paperback]

4 STARS

The Ice Chorus by Sarah Stonich is the picturesque, perceptive and contemporary tale of Liselle (Lise) Dupre, an amateur documentary filmmaker from Toronto who is torn between the men in her life: her self-absorbed, archaeologist husband Stephen, 17-year-old son Adam, once womanizing and now dead father Hart, and the lover she met on a Mexican vacation - Welsh painter Charles Lowan - who makes her feel like she has never felt before.

Exquisitely written with as much consideration of light and fluidity as the loving and precise brushstrokes of the story's artist, Stonich reinforces the fact that nothing ever turns out the way we think it will. Their mature and deeply romantic love story is recalled in vivid, powerful flashbacks in which we feel Lise's agony every bit as her ecstasy and are completely empathetic to her dilemma.

Author Nuala O'Faolain declared that, "Any woman who ever had her heart cracked open by a man should read The Ice Chorus." And she's right. I was hauntingly reminded of my most meaningful, romantic epiphany that occurred in Ireland seven years ago, and was attracted to the book's synopsis for this reason.

After an intense affair with Charlie while on holiday in the Yucatán, Lise uncovers the real reason why she has avoided intimacy and allowed her marriage to simply happen to her. She had consented to a life that didn't make her happy and only in Charlie's arms did she discover the colours of love and how it feels to be genuinely understood.

"Sitting back, she framed Charlie in half shade, her gaze climbing to the hard line of his jaw, his deep temple and too-broad forehead. He would be considered plain by most.

"You choose what you see, I suppose."

He considered her a long moment before touching her arm. "You should, you know."

The nails of his fingers were rimmed in ochre, the same colour pressed into the fabric of his shirt. The weight of them on her skin was light, acute.

"I should what?"

"Do what that journalist suggested. Make a film of yourself."

When he pulled his hand away, she felt marked.

"Elle?"

She froze. No one had called her that for a very long time. It took a moment for her to reply without her voice cracking. "Yes?"

Lise struggles with how to find the right time to end her marriage to Stephen, realizing that she's bound to lose Adam in the split. Confiding in no one but her best friend Leonard, who is gay, Lise is soon forced to make a decision when Charlie's art is exhibited in Toronto and everyone in the gallery is witness to seven remarkably intimate portraits of his "Elle".

After many months of angst-ridden contemplation, Lise decides to start over again in rural Ireland where she builds her new life and waits for Charlie's return. It is here that the novel begins.

While in Eire, Lise gradually forms a new familial bond with Remy (the local shanachie and hardware store owner) & Margaret Conner (an elegant cake maker with a deep, dark secret) and their prickly granddaughter Siobhan, characters that are as richly envisioned and fulfilled as the Irish seascape in Lowan's painting; the catalyst for Lise's decision. She rents a plain house in a remote village near the sea and embarks on a new journey of her own design. Lise slowly integrates into the lives of the villagers, who warm to her when she films them revealing how they met the love of their lives, and in the process exposes herself.

Sarah Stonich authentically depicts bucolic Ireland while smoothly weaving between the past and present and creates a "subtle, lovely evocation of the transforming power of love, forgiveness, midlife renewal and the power of art to transform life." Her prose reminds me of the work of Maggie O'Farrell, Candida Clark and Lisa Carey, all of whom I love, and as she credits some of my favourite Irish writers (Edna O'Brien, Jamie O'Neill, Colum McCann) with inspiring her, I would not hesitate to read more of Stonich's books.

The only complaint I have about The Ice Chorus is the way in which Stonich described Charlie's return to Ireland which was all too brief and evasive for my liking. However, it did have a satisfying, albeit contemplative ending and was the perfect book to read as the year comes to an end and I reflect on my own journey of love and memory.

"The Ice Chorus" is one of those books that will stay with you long after you've read the last page.

Lise Dupre has left her home in Toronto, her soon-to-be-ex-husband, and her son to escape to a remote Irish village. A documentary film maker, she enjoys filming the lives and stories of others, yet she realizes that her own is far from figured out. In Ireland she hopes to examine her past to ensure her future happiness. Complicating things is the fact that she met and fell in love with a Welsh painter while she was vacationing in Mexico, and that being with him may cost her her relationship with her teenage son.

Sarah Stonich writes in a such a way as to make you believe that you are there with the characters, looking over their shoulders as they paint a wall or read a letter. As readers, we become so intricately involved in the lives of her characters that we feel that these people could be our neighbors, and that they could be our friends. They are all necessary to the plot, and flawed to the point that we can't help but see a little of ourselves in them. I loved Remy, the lovable grandfather and owner of the hardware store, as well as his wild granddaughter Siobhan. I adored Adam, Lise's son, and could only hope that he would eventually come to accept his mother for who she was.

This was an enjoyable read, seamlessly switching from Ireland to Toronto to Mexico without missing a beat. It was a story about true love and about family, and how often we take these very things for granted.

What happens when you are in your life, filling out the shape of it, and suddenly you see someone and you hear a voice inside your soul say, "Now here's someone."

Love has no rules.

It makes no sense.

It finds you.

Sarah Stonich's The Ice Chorus is a profoundly moving story of love, betrayal, hope, redemption and healing. Lise's life has fallen apart. Her marriage of 18 years to archeologist Stephen has crumbled, and soaring above all the mess is a painter named Charlie. She met him while visiting Stephen on a dig in Mexico, and suddenly she heard it, that little but powerful voice inside her, "Now here's someone."

The story takes place in Ireland and, from her memory, in Mexico. Stonich paints vivid pictures of both places, and her writing is poetic without being too much so. It is not cliche, in my opinion, the characters are real and the dialogue is completely believable, as are the circumstances that surround the entire storyline.

If you like a good love story, then The Ice Chorus is for you. But it's so much more than that. It has layers of love. The layers you find in your own life. The love of a husband and wife, Mother and son, Father and daughter - friend. The love of Remy and Margaret, two new friends and allies in Lise's fight to heal herself from her own misery, is perhaps one of the most amazing of all. Remy, who is such a real character, has written "pages" to his wife every single day of there 40 plus year marriage. Poems, snippets of a song, words of love.

Hands gloved now in crepe of years,
Ease this rough brow
with silken care,
affix the buttons o'er my heart

One of my favourite scenes in the book is when Lise (a documentary film maker) decides to film people in the Irish village she is living in. She soon realizes that the story she is telling through her lens is simple - Love. As in "What is.." Remy encourages her to set up her camera in his hardware shop and record the various customers who wander in and out. Instead of just straight dialogue or 'he said' or "she said", Stonich bookends dialogue with mannerisms, and moments that, to the reader, bring the characters alive.

"Ah, bless you." Kenny faces the camera. "Now what's it you're after?"

Remy crosses his arms. "How you met your bride."

Kenny rubs his forehead. "Oh yeah, I should remember that, sure now. How I met Theresa... how I met..."

Lise looks to Remy, now leaning over the register. "Take your time, Kenny."

Kenny sits, crosses and uncrosses his legs three times. "A course I remember. The year, anyway. That was 'fifty-five, I think. Yup." He leans forward, temples clamped between fists as if he might squeeze out the memory. "Theresa. She was my mother's Saturday girl, for the laundry and what-not. She ironed a shirt for me to wear to a dance I was taking another girl to." He seems pleased to have remembered, but his smile fades quickly. "Theresa. We had forty good years. A great girl, yeah.. a great girl... Christ, Remy, have you a tissue on ya?"

Remy was my favourite character in that he was endearing and funny and a hopeless romantic beneath that rough irish exterior. A father figure to Lise, he was the anchor that held her fast as the seas of her choices raged about her.

By the end of the long day, word has swept the village and a few more people come around to offer their stories. Whether Remy's intended to or not Lise cannot know, but he's introduced her into the tight society of the village, person by person, story by story. Lise may be an outsider still, but perhaps less a stranger.

When he insists she sit down herself, Lise balks.
"How I met Stephen?"
"Nah, the other. The one."
"Oh." She sits and looks at her knees. When she tilts her chin up, Remy nods

While in the store, after many quick answers to "how did you meet your mate?", an old couple sits down and here is the exchange:

A middle-aged farm couple peer shyly from the aisle, hoping to slip out unnoticed, but Remy fetches another chair and steers them both to sit. The wife speaks first.
"We met at a church supper."
"No, Katie, it was a church jumble sale."
"It was a supper, love."
"Sale."
"Supper."
"Randall, you've not remembered one birthday or anniversary without being reminded in twenty-seven years, so how in Christ would you remember how we met!" The woman goes shrill. "I'm telling you now, it was a bleeding supper!"

Randall's neck goes the colour of a beet as he faces the lens. "We met at a church supper."

It's this kind of thing that made Ice Chorus more than a love story. It made me think, "What would I say about my love?" It is also going to hit home to those of us of a "certain age" (cough), as in over 40. If you are married, have children, and are 40 ish and have put your own life on hold to raise your family, then this book will really resonate with you. Heck, you could be ANY age and relate to that! I think that it also may start some healthy debate about morals and fidelity, and what it really means to love someone.

The Ice Chorus is Sarah Stonich's second novel, her first being "These Granite Islands" and she will soon be releasing "Vacationland".

Stay tuned for my upcoming interview with Sarah, as well as a giveaway of her book! In support of this book I will actually be purchasing the book from Amazon and have the book directly shipped to the lucky winner!