From Publishers Weekly
King offers a deeply genuine performance of this subtle yet affecting novel told from the perspective of Howard Kapostash, a wounded Vietnam veteran whose injury has left him unable to read, write or speak, but who is, as the card he's always reluctant to give people points out, "of normal intelligence." After Howard agrees to look after his ex-girlfriend's son, Ryan, while she is in rehab, Ryan's presence profoundly alters the lives of Howard and his three housemates. The vital element to the success of this recording is how Kinney's reading voice meshes with Howard's narrative one. Kinney does an excellent job with Howard's various moods, from the quiet joy of watching Ryan's Little League practice to the simmering and occasionally explosive frustration of not being able to communicate his thoughts. He also slides easily between the Texas drawl of one character and the slangy banter of a feckless pair of 20-somethings living under Howard's roof. The production includes some aptly employed musical accompaniment. Soft piano, for instance, tinkles in the background as Howard remembers the mine explosion that injured him, and a buoyant, guitar-driven theme recurs but avoids being cloying or overdone. The same can be said for the book itself, which—though loosely predictable—remains earnest and inspiring.
Simultaneous release with the Little, Brown hardcover (Forecasts, Nov. 15, 2004). (Jan.) Copyright © Reed Business Information, a division of Reed Elsevier Inc. All rights reserved.
From Booklist
King's compelling, compassionate debut revolves around Howie, who suffered a head injury in Vietnam and now can neither speak nor write. When Sylvia, an old girlfriend, asks Howie to care for Ryan, her nine-year-old biracial son, while she goes to a nearby detox center, Howie is initially overwhelmed by his new responsibilities but gradually falls into the role of father: making healthy breakfasts, listening to hip-hop, and signing Ryan up for a Little League team and even filling in as umpire. Howie and his three housemates proudly attend Ryan's end-of-the-year school program, and as the summer progresses, Howie dreads Sylvia's emergence from rehab--he can barely remember life before Ryan. Since his injury Howie has gradually withdrawn from all human contact except for the nuns at the convent where he mows the lawn and his stalwart group of housemates. Caring for Ryan has opened him up again to joy and sorrow, frustration and small accomplishments. The reader is drawn into Howie's world and roots for him with every first step he takes.
Deborah DonovanCopyright © American Library Association. All rights reserved
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