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Speaking to bibliographer Ann Knight in 1983, Kinsella admitted that a few details from this story are semi-autobiographical: "The lady who keeps saying, 'He can put his shoes under my bed,' I saw at a Vancouver Mounties game in Seattle in 1954." And, "the business about the stewardess trying to give away a baby happened to me and a young lady at the Vancouver International Airport in 1970 or '71."
These stories celebrate particular relationships: between father and son, brother and sister, perfect strangers, a spiritual icon and her admirers, doctor and patient, father and daughter, bowling buddies, etc. They are classic Kinsella. No fan of his opus will want to overlook these initial, "adult-oriented" adventures into the regions of Magic Realism. These tales are Icarus flyers; they tempt the sun to melt their wings.
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Mike Houle, a ballplayer fresh out of college with a business degree (a rarity) waits for the chance to get drafted but gets passed over because of a dismal senior season. He had always been an excellent second baseman, leadoff singles hitter and base stealer, but now finds himself waiting by the phone. His agent sends him to an obscure league in Iowa where things are not quite as they see.
Think - "Shoeless Joe (or Field of Dreams)" meets "The Stepford Wives" only not as sinister.
The character Mike holds the story together. His voice, motives and emotions are believable and while he's smart enough to know better he sometimes chooses the wrong path. He holds to his dream.
I enjoyed Kinsella's writing. The dialogue is great and there are many interesting stories within the story, like the Roger Cash episode where he bests the town's top team with only a group of high schoolers to back him up. It's all about the distances.
Emmett Powell and his family were a hoot and there are a number of quirky characters in the mix.
My critiques: A lot of telling and not enough showing. There are scenes where someone is relating a story and I lose sense of where I am, especially when the storyteller basically drops out of the novel. The imagery is vivid but I wanted more substance.
Going with the previous comment, I felt many of the characters were not fully developed. We never really get to know Mike's brother, Byron. Nor do we get much insight into Daniel Morganstern's issues with the team. Stanley Wood disappears about halfway through, as does Crease. McMartin has an episode then reappears later.
Would I recommend the book? Yes, it's a pleasant summer read.
What Houle finds in Grand Mound Iowa comes as a complete surprise to him. Families take in ball players--especially families with young and attractive daughters. Is that normal? And Grand Mound, according to his sponsor, is one of the few towns in Iowa which is actually growing. The entire town shows up for the regular inter-squad matches held by the local semi-pro team and Houle, the pressure off, finds himself playing the best baseball of his life.
He may be playing great baseball but he isn't stupid. There's something going on in this town, and with this team, that just doesn't make sense.
Author W. P. Kinsella creates an ode to baseball as the solution to the world's problems. In a strange, fairy tale part of Iowa, baseball has become the savior of a town, and the town in turn has become the salvation to a number of players who had somehow lost touch with the love of the game. Kinsella's lyrical writing makes MAGIC TIME an intriguing and compelling read. Although the plot itself is somewhat slow moving (but then, people say the same thing about baseball), Houle's coming of age and his growing realization of the mystery of Grand Mound made me keep turning the pages.
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It was tough reading the book after seeing Field of Dreams, but I still enjoyed it. Kinsella captures both the zen of baseball and its mystique and the strive for perfection.
How many of us would shuck the responsibilities of a farm/home mortgage/job etc., to follow our heart? Not many. Kinsella did and the book is a testament to the heart. A great book; read it just before baseball season opens in April to get the full flavor.
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Kinsella has dealt often with poignant issues, but the title story in this gathering of fine writing achieves a summit of excellence. As an Albertan, he's dealt with Native Peoples, Ukrainian, Scandinavian and Irish communities, often in the first person. Here, he adds Japan to his quiver of cultural portrayals. Again, baseball only forms a mechanism to depict the power love exerts over the unwary. Imagine falling in love with someone you can't converse with, then come to realize the barrier isn't linguistic. Craig Bevans goes to Japan to become a star, but falls in love with "the boss's daughter." The formula would be trite in hands other than Kinsella's - the star manipulating the owner for reward. Bevans, however, is driven by love, not ambition, and the ironic end of this story leaves the reader breathless, if not tearful.
The prize in this array of vividly crafted relations is The Arbiter. In any sport, writers focus on the newsworthy. American baseball pitchers, managers and strong hitters are social idols at many levels of both fact and fiction. Their abilities and their activities are recounted, assessed with their lives often scrutinized in agonizing detail. One group of people associated with any sport, however, are almost universally overlooked. The Arbiters - the referees, judges and umpires of any sport, sink into obscurity, relegated to background roles. In baseball, the umpire's dark suit melds them into the grassy horizon of the diamond. Only the contested call brings them to the fore of our attention. Once the game is decided, they fade from view and memory. Kinsella has retrieved one, vividly bringing him into our view as a man of enviable values. In an almost Sophoclean portrayal, Kinsella gives us a man driven to achieve perfection. What can challenges to that drive achieve but to erode it? Kinsella walks us through The Arbiter's confronting those challenges resulting in a nearly inevitable response.
Those who've read Kinsella will welcome this book as a pinnacle among his achievements. He's unquestionably a master of the genre. Some critics have claimed Kinsella shouldn't depart from short story writing. If this is Kinsella's response, their carping is surely vindicated. There's not a word extra nor any out of place. If you're new to Kinsella or not a baseball fan, have no worries; these stories will not leave you wondering what it's all about. Kinsella's people are identifiable by all of us. You will find yourself or someone you know in here without difficulty or distraction. You will come away wondering why you haven't read this excellent author before. You will, however, almost certainly want to read more.
That he succeeds in telling a baseball tale in a time when he himself knew no baseball and weaves in some truths about the racism that existed in what was, even there, a multi-cultural environment is a tribute to his inventiveness.
This book is best read aloud with a Southern accent. So, if you aren't prepared to "work" at it a bit, you'll probably be disappointed. Otherwise, you'll find yourself noticing the width of the Pembina River-- next time you're on the Edmonton/Jasper highway.