I really love this book. Completely different and unusual enough to remind me a little of James Joyce. I realised from page one that this was a book that took you for an unexpected ride so I just followed the story and the characters in their journey. This is nothing like the Book's thief so don't read it expecting something similar because you may be disappointed. I enjoyed this book for many reasons, the main one was the way it broke the mould that's too often applies to best-selling novels that are actually just a clone of something else. This is totally unique and well worth reading.

There is a very literal bridge at the centre of Bridge of Clay. It’s lovingly hand built and inspired by the Roman wonder Pont Du Gard — the UNESCO heritage aqueduct that spans a humble river in the South of France. That bridge has three tiers of carefully crafted archways, each building on the other, and gradually jigsawing together. Pont du Gard's hefty stone blocks hold together through friction alone, without the use of mortar.

I think it’s fair to say there’s lot in the literary structure of Bridge of Clay, that — probably both intentionally and unintentionally — mirror the structure of its famous Roman inspiration. You arch through the story, dipping your toes in here and there. Key events are hinted at, and circled around, long before they’re revealed, and many things are overstated or understated as they’re fed through the perspective of the narrator, Matthew; the oldest of five brothers. Bricks of narrative are carefully crafted, then slotted into place one at a time, although not chronologically. Gradually, gradually, the full form comes into focus and you can see your way to the other side. And, like the Pont du Gard, it’s a friction-held feat of structural engineering you’re never quite sure is going to hold.

The bridge metaphor may seem laboured, but I can only imagine that the book was constructed with exactly this in mind. A vision of the Pont Du Gard in word form. But the beauty of Bridge of Clay is for all its magnificent strides and epic reaches, the core story is a simpler one: five emotionally illiterate boys mourning the death of their mother. We’re told early on: “Our mother was dead. Our father had fled.” Leaving the five ‘Dunbar boys’ living a semi-feral existence in suburban Australia, under the loose guardianship of the oldest brother Matthew. Matthew is old enough to earn a living and pay the bills, but despite his best efforts, his four brothers are largely left to process their grief, and find their way, alone. We also dip into the backstory of their mother, Penny, a concert pianist who escaped the USSR to become first a cleaner and then an English Language teacher; and their father, Michael, a small town artist with a broken heart, who had given up on life before meeting Penny. There is also Carey, one brother’s would-be girlfriend and a talented apprentice jockey. The boys live in Sydney’s racing quarter and racing symbolism looms almost as large as the bridge.

But the five brothers themselves are what truly bring the book to life; they’re not the kind of characters who usually populate the pages of literary fiction. Clay, the second youngest brother, forms the centre of the story, and he barely speaks. Tommy was only five when their mother died and has spent the intervening years caring for the animals his brothers have gifted to him in a clumsy attempt to fill the hole. Henry is the wise-cracking wheeler-dealer, and the second-oldest Rory has “scrap-metal eyes,” They all repress, rather than express their feelings, and when their emotions do come out it is through either comedy, or more often, violence. Words aren’t their strong point, despite their mother’s obsessive love of the Odyssey and the Iliad; the drama of which has rooted down in each boy’s soul. So, when Matthew does finally set finger to ancient typewriter to narrate this story, his narrative style is a little on the overblown and dramatic side.

So, there’s an Ancient Greek-inspired narrative style to go with the Ancient Roman-inspired narrative structure.
Depending on your taste, that Pont du Gard-like structural gameplay can be a thrilling puzzle to solve, or a patience-trying irritation. Or sometimes a bit of both. You can’t help wondering if there isn’t a simpler way to get to the other side. And of course there is, but that would be missing the point. Sometimes you have to build a bridge to show you can, and as a reader you can choose to be part of that, or not. It certainly takes patience and faith to wait while all those inter-connecting story-bricks slot, one by one, into place. Yes, maybe those bricks could have been packed a little more tightly together. Maybe there was one ostentatious arch too many. But the characters are good enough, and unusual enough, to pull you through regardless. And there’s no denying the audacity of the ambitious scale, and that’s an impressive thing in itself.

Bridge of Clay follows five brothers as they face abandonment from their father, and the ultimate quest for forgiveness and what it means to be a family. Oh, and building a bridge.

I found this really difficult to read, and I’m unsure if it’s a case of ‘it’s not you, it’s me’ or the other way round. I bought The Book Thief when it was first released (I have the hardback first edition floating around at my mother’s house somewhere) but I wasn’t all that impressed with Zusak’s writing style. When I received at ARC for this I was willing to give him another go, but I think I may have to admit defeat.

The story is so complicated, with a style of prose I really hate, so that descriptions become paragraphs with long metaphorical meanings. It made the pacing about as slow as wading through mud, and it was incredibly hard to stay afloat. The meandering pace just killed off any interest I might have had in the plot. It also jumps between past, present and future which I found incredibly frustrating and difficult to follow.

I also didn’t really connect with any of the brothers, and didn’t really care about their various issues which seemed so central to the story. I mean, one of the brothers becomes obsessed with bridge building, and not the metaphorical kind, which unfortunately I was never going to find appealing anyway. The bond between the brothers is quite nice, and there’s an obvious familial love running through the story, but they all across as emotionless hardy men who began to all blend into one.

Not for me unfortunately. I think I may have to leave Zusak’s work to the majority.

Not having read any Zusak novels before, I was very keen to read him to see if he'll become one of my favourite writers as well.

I struggled in the beginning. The first 50- 70 pages were hard work, I considered giving up several times, especially dreading 400 more pages of the same. I just couldn't get a grip, I couldn't understand what I was reading, who was the narrator, the back and forth, and sideways, gave me whiplash, but I persevered. I'm glad I did, as it got much better. I got to know the characters, although, even that took some time, anyway, the novel became more readable.

This novel is about the Dunbar boys, five of them, six, if you count their father. So much testosterone, grunting, inability to communicate or express emotions... I can't help but wonder if it was intentional and if that's why it took so many pages for Zusak to get to the point !?!????

I've realised that my enjoyment increased when Zusak unfolded the mother's story - Penelope - had escaped Communist Poland and immigrated to Australia without knowing a soul there.

There are many beautiful passages, but also a lot of padding, including lots of smaller, insignificant characters that don't add that much to the story. Oh, and a plethora of pets. Even though I began to get it or just got used to it, the structure and pacing were still jarring. I really had to push myself to get back to this novel and I say this as someone who enjoys slow, character-driven novels.

So in conclusion, I'm glad that I finally read a Zusak novel, even though it won't make it to my favourites shelf. It was too much work for little reward, as it failed to wow me and get my full emotional investment.

I was so excited when i saw this up on Netgalley - finally, a new Markus Zusack! The writing is as warmy, witty and lyrical as ever and I absolutely loved this.

A decade since The Book Thief, this was definitely worth the wait! Zusak’s writing is poetic and his storytelling ability is masterful. Wouldn’t want to give too much away, so all I’ll say is BUY THIS BOOK! You won’t be disappointed.

I loved Zusak's other book, The Book Thief, so I had high hopes for this book. Overall I really enjoyed this book but it was definitely a little confusing at times. Concentration is key when reading this book but it is well worth the effort. I love Zusak's writing style, but it's probably not for everyone. This is a character driven book and you come to really care about them. Overall a great book, but a little slow at times and a bit of a hard start.

I've been waiting for this book, like most people, for years. I've been hoping that the same magical spark that made The Book Thief so incredibly moving would stay in this novel, but that unfortunately was not the case. It's a book where nothing much really happens, and the stream of consciousness narrative that so often goes into a tangent that isn't related to the overall narrative, that you lose track of what's going on. A wandering narrative that doesn't pay much off. You end up losing interest in the characters and the themes of the book- which are interesting enough- because your focus has been completely lost. I am really disappointed by this book, and I can only hope that next time, Zusak takes a different approach when constructing his novel .

5★
“Many considered us tearaways.
Barbarians.
Mostly they were right:
Our mother was dead.
Our father had fled.

We swore like bastards, fought like contenders, and punished each other at pool, at table tennis (always on third- or fourth-hand tables, and often set up on the lumpy grass of the backyard), at Monopoly, darts, football, cards, at everything we could get our hands on.”

Zusak basically walks you up the steps of a houseful of boys with little introduction. He also designs the physical pages of the book with a particular pattern and flow which lead you into the story.

Matthew Dunbar opens the story a few pages earlier than this quotation, telling us he’s punching away on the old TW (typewriter), which was owned by his grandmother, but of course we don’t know who he is or who is grandmother is.

He is writing the story of his family from his own point of view (when he’s part of the action), but from an author’s (or omniscient narrator’s) point of view in all the scenes that took place before he was born or that were between other characters. I found it always easy to distinguish, and it made me feel he was acting as the family historian to whom everyone had entrusted their innermost thoughts.

The part that’s tricky is the walking up the steps and facing this lively mob of boys who are without adult supervision, and all we know is that the parents are absent. This is a tried-and-true coming of age device that appeals to young readers – having kids ‘abandoned’ and on their own – but it doesn’t last long. Matthew assumes the adult role and we meet the real adults soon enough.

Still, we really don’t know why there’s a mule in the kitchen, who it is they refer to all the time as “The Murderer” (or why), and why someone has gone to all the trouble to go back to someone else’s backyard to dig up bones and a snakeskin and – wait for it – the old TW, wrapped in plastic.

Five brothers: Matthew, Henry, Rory, Clay, Tommy. Each with a different personality and part to play, although Tommy is so little he features mostly as a “training weight” for Clay to carry up staircases and hills to build his strength. And Rory was born roaring and is anxious to fight anyone at the drop of a hat – or even at the slight fluttering of a hat - and his job is to tackle Clay to slow him down as he runs. Huh? Interesting training regime.

As Zusak weaves his way back and forth, we grow to love and understand the young people who became the boys’ parents and grandparents (as well as the one who got away). They don’t have much, but their back fence is the other side of a practice course and racetrack, so there’s still some open ground in the area, especially at The Surrounds, “a sculpture garden.”

“He woke up in the biggest bedroom in the city.
For Clay, it was perfect, another strange but sacred site: it was a bed, in a field, with the ignition of dawn and distant rooftops; or, more accurately an old mattress, lying faded in the earth. . . in the field behind our house. . . All that remained was an emptiness – a giant, uneven paddock, and a sculpture garden of household waste: Troubled televisions. Battered washing machines. Catapulted microwaves. One enduring mattress.”

I love Markus Zusak’s characters, especially these boys. Like Tim Winton, he seems to capture that wonderful mix of innocence and hope with the life-changing reality of tragedy and despair they can’t escape. Things happen that would bring the best of us undone.

These boys fight each other fiercely, but when a Dunbar boy is attacked by bullies, watch out.

“Clay knew how to hurt them. He had one or two of most things, but also a thousand elbows.”

Books and reading figure strongly with the boys, who love the stories of the classics, especially the Odyssey and ancient history. Clay begs to hear his mother’s stories, often just family anecdotes, and he seems a little simple at first. Only at first. There’s a lot more to him. He does become the bridge in the family even as he helps to physically build a real bridge with stone arches and all.

Wonderful writing, and truly, it all does come together somehow, but I understand some readers don’t let it wash over them long enough for it to soak in. The writing alone is enough to keep me going.

“In those days, too, I remind myself, our parents were something else.
Sure, they fought sometimes, they argued.
There was the odd suburban thunderbolt, but they were mostly those people who’d found each other; they were golden and bright-lit and funny. Often they seemed in cahoots somehow, like jailbirds who wouldn’t leave; they loved us, they liked us, and that was a pretty good trick. After all, take five boys, put them in one small house, and see what it looks and sounds like: it’s a porridge of mess and fighting.”

What parent hasn’t either enjoyed, or wished they could enjoy, being in cahoots with another adult when there’s a roomful of kids?

I finished reading this a little while ago, and I'm still living with this family. The going back and forth in time explains each character’s strengths or flaws after we’ve met them, and after all, isn't that how we would meet them if we walked up those steps?

LOVED IT!

Thanks to NetGalley and Random House UK for the preview copy, and special thanks to Markus Zusak for bringing the Dunbar boys to life.

I had heard a lot about this book so I knew that I had to read it. -what a book!!
It is not a quick starter and it takes a while to get going but it is worth it.
Book is based/about family, grief, relationships and love.
Great Book.
Thank you to both NetGalley and Random House UK for my ARC of this book in exchange for my honest unbiased review.

Michael Dunbar, 'the Murderer' had two loves - his first wife Abbey, now estranged; and his second, Penelope, a piano-playing immigrant, now dead.

Penny and Michael's five sons are home alone after Michael departs the family home.

One son, Clay, also has a great love - Carey Novac, an aspiring jockey. Like Michael, Clay's life is moulded by tragedy. Accompanied by Achilles the mule, echoing the Homeric favourites of Penelope, Clay starts on a journey to reunite with his father, leading to the building of the bridge that will reunite them all and lead to the next steps in his journey.

I found this initially a bit hard going, but the more I read, and the faster I read, the characters pulled me on and I was gripped to the end.

Set in and around Sydney, this is the story of the five Dunbar brothers – Matthew, Rory, Henry, Clay and Tommy – who are raising themselves as best they can after their mother’s death and the abandonment of their father. It’s a chaotic life, not helped by a menagerie of pets all named after Greek heroes. The grieving boys have to find solace where they can, as they struggle with their loss. The novel opens with their father turning up out of the blue and asking if one of his sons is willing to help him build a bridge. Clay agrees and drops out of school to go with his father. That’s the basic trajectory of the novel, but it’s surrounded by a bewildering array of sub-plots, minor characters and a fragmented chronology, so much so that I found it hard to keep track of where and when I was. The slow reveal of the back story means it takes too long to really get a handle on what’s going on and leaves less opportunity to really bond with the boys. There are some truly moving moments in the book but they are overlaid with too much clutter. The symbolism of the bridge is at one time heavy-handed and yet not explicit enough. A bridge to where? Between whom? The father is a shadowy figure and we never get a chance to find out why he abandoned his sons – it’s not enough to assume it was simply his grief, we need his point of view. It’s an emotional novel, but the emotion overwhelms the narrative and yet gets subsumed by all the jumping about. Overall, I found it an unsatisfactory read which always seemed to be just eluding my grasp. If I have to put that much effort into a book, I need more of a payback, and I didn’t get it here.

I spent so much of this book willing it to end, and now I can't get these characters out of my head. Bridge of Clay is of such a length that it felt daunting at times, and honestly, like I'd never finish it. I absolutely ADORED The Book Thief - didn't we all? - and I Am the Messenger too, but this book didn't capture my heart from the get go. The pacing is slow, there are so many characters, too many brothers if anything, and a lot of jumping around in the timeline that it was confusing and overwhelming. It wasn't until the last ~15% that my heart really started to be pulled into this story, and subsequently be smashed to smithereens. It is such a long slog for the pay off, but I almost missed my stop on the bus because I couldn't bear putting it down when I was so, so, so close to the end. It's an epic tale of family and fate and so emotional towards the end, that I do feel it was worth the wait to the end, but it was such an uphill push to actually make it there. Definitely a book you have to commit to, but rewarding and heartwarming.

Every now and then, a reader comes across a book that takes hold of them and won’t let go. Bridge of Clay is one these books. Perennial in its nature, profound in its ramblings, and a great big brilliant mess of multilayered, interjecting, and powerful narration.

At its core, this book is a story about the 5 Dunbar boys, their 5 uniquely named animals, a Mum, a Murderer, a female jockey called Carey, and a bridge.
At its periphery it’s about love, devastation, loss, and mending bridges.

Words cannot express how utterly enjoyable and completely absorbing this book was for me, I finished it in 2 sittings (whilst on a weekend vacation!). It also hit many wonderful and oftentimes personal marks for me. It is incredibly well-written, with such rich descriptions - making you feel like you’re right there. and it evokes a full spectrum of emotions. Each character was so uniquely crafted that I could picture them all like they were my own family. I loved every moment of this book.

Many thanks to Markus Zusak, Random House UK, Transworld Publishers, and NetGalley, for an ARC of this captivating novel in exchange for an honest review.

Ten years ago I read a book called The Book Thief, years later it has stayed with me. I think of it now and again and it still has the ability to make the hairs on my neck stand on end.

It is therefore understandable that Bridge of Clay was one of my most anticipated books of the year and what an utter treat of a book it turned out to be!

Enter the Dunbar family, five brothers whom have been left to their own devices with a curious medley of animals in a house full of chaos. Clay the second youngest is captivating from the start as we hear his story from his brother’s words which he batters and hammers out on an old typewriter. We meet Clay at lots of times within his short life as we journey backwards and forwards to the almost now and the ‘before the beginning.’ (Bridge of Clay - Markus Zusak)

Everything that I love about Zusak’s writing can be found within these pages - his, by now, almost signature use of personifying even the most inanimate of objects brought the smallest of details alive before my eyes.

As I read I forgot everything around me. Like no one else Zusak has the ability to transport you to a place that is other worldly - a place where beautiful words hang in the sky and whisper to you from the trees and each and every one of them is wondrous.

As I sobbed and smiled and cheered my way to the final page - I was left broken yet whole, aching even as my heart leapt and soared. A truly special book is one that can take you to a place where real life no longer exists and the words on the page are just EVERYTHING. Bridge of Clay is one of those books - put your life on hold for a little while and meet a boy called Clay - you won’t ever forget him.

First of all I must say reading this book is hard work. It is a history of a family presented like a patchwork quilt - a bit here and a bit there, jumping around from person to person, place to place and past to present. Concentration is the key.

Hard work does pay off however and this is a really beautiful book. As the story progresses Zusak's characters start to work their way into your heart and the pages just slip past as you begin to discover just what has occurred. Little things like why the clothes pegs mean so much to Clay all become clear by the end. Tissues are required - there are several very sad moments.

But there are also lots of fun times as you would expect in a household of five boys. I loved Achilles the mule who felt that he too should live in the house, and there is a wonderful neighbour who comes by to fix them up when they have been fighting. Which is often.

This is a book about relationships and about love. I finished it yesterday and it is still buzzing around in my head. That is a sure sign of a good book.

It’s been worth the wait Markus Zusak. A compelling, beautiful story.

“Let me tell you about our brother. The fourth Dunbar boy named Clay. Everything happened to him. We were all of us changed through him.”

Penelope Lescuiszko, thanks to the insistence of her father, had used the opportunity to flee The Soviet Union while supposedly attending a piano eisteddfod. After taking refuge in several different countries, she finally lands in Australia, where she takes on the unmotivating task of cleaning, mostly toilets to keep her a roof over her head. She met Michael when the piano she’d bought was delivered to his house instead of hers (they lived on the same street).

Michael had all but given up on the world and women after a bad break-up. Their lives entwine, more as two lonely people at the beginning. However, this eventually changes, and they marry, and five boys arrive in relatively quick succession. The brothers, Matthew, Rory, Henry, Clay(ton) and Thomas, are typical tearaway boys. Rough and tumble, fight, makeup, defend each other, and all learn to play the piano (on their mother’s insistence). Their mother also instils reading in them from an early age. The Iliad and The Odyssey had been part of her childhood. Her father had read them to her while she was growing up. When she left, he’d hidden English translations of both books in her suitcase, with a letter telling her not to return home, but to take the chance to flee communism.

The boys’ idyllic life comes crashing down when Penelope is diagnosed with terminal cancer. It’s a slow and painful time for all of them and life goes on as best it can. Clay spends most of his free time with his mother, listening to her history and that of Michael.

Michael, the father, cannot come to terms when Penelope dies and within months, vanishes. Matthew is left in charge of keeping the home running and the boys reasonably under control. He hates his father, calling him a murderer for leaving them alone, so young and vulnerable to care for themselves. When Michael makes an unexpected visit many years later, Matthew is shocked to hear that Clay wants to go with him to build a bridge, washed away over the river which runs next to his new home.

There are not enough words to describe the absolute poetic beauty of this story. Markus Zusak left us all breathless and asking for more with The Book Thief. Believe me, this book, in my opinion, might be even more powerful, more poetic with strong characters, and strong motivation to keep turning the pages,

The storyline has wrapped itself around my heart, making me sad, but also realise that sometimes, we need dark days and hard times in our lives to make us appreciate the rest of life that much more.

I loved every single word. Thank you, Markus Zusak, you’ve once again proved that you are a master storyteller.

Treebeard

Breakaway Reviewers received a copy of the book to review.

The anticipation for Markus Zusak's latest novel has been eager to say the least; heightened immeasurably by the 10-year wait. So here it is.

This is the story of the Dunbar family, the parents, the five boys, but most of all the story of #4 child Clay. It's also the story of a bridge that Clay will build for - and to - his father. And the crux of it all is the why.

I had a few issues with this book, which is why it's taken me almost a week just to decide on a rating. In the end - 3 stars - it was good. But with several caveats, because while I really liked the second half, the first half was just ok for me.

The book is long. That in itself is neither here nor there. But it took me a long, long time to begin enjoying it. By the 1/3 mark I'd convinced myself to keep going, and somewhere beyond the halfway point I decided it was actually quite a good story. My problem was the effort it took as a reader to achieve the expected level (just normal, not rapturous) of gratification.

So let's say I didn't like the first 200 pages (or thereabouts). Here's why. I felt disoriented - I couldn't work out where the story was set until I was told. I wasn't even sure if it was Australia at first. I was lonely - I couldn't tell the 5 boys apart, and didn't know which ones to love and which to ignore. And it wasn't just the boys, there were actually a lot of characters - human and animal - introduced in that first section, and it was really hard to keep track of them. I was a bit bored - boy children's antics and horses don't interest me that much, but Penelope's (the mum's) backstory gave me a glimmer of hope. I was worried - I just knew that there were some important things happening in the story that I wasn't grasping, and I was concerned it might affect my understanding of what was happening later on. I was frustrated - I didn't really like the writing style, although I did get used to it later in the book.

But then around Part 3 it began to gel a bit more, my reading speeded up, and I got into it.

In the end my two favourite characters were the two women in Clay's life, his mother and Carey, his girl-who-is-a-friend-but-becoming-a-girlfriend. The secret, probably due to the lengthy buildup, wasn't difficult to pick, although it still produced an emotional response when it was revealed.

So would I recommend it? Only to readers who are prepared to put in the effort. Not for first-time readers of Zusak!

* If anyone can explain to me what was going on with the bridge during that storm, please let me know!! *

Thanks to Netgalley for giving me an E-ARC of this book in exchange for an honest review.

When I first heard this was being released, back when booktubers were posting about it in their Bookexpo videos, I was really interested in the novel. I didn’t know much about it, but like most people, I fell in love with the beauty and sorrow of The Book Thief and wanted to see what else Zusak could do [I know he’s written other books but still]. Then, when I was accepted for the review copy, I felt my interest dwindling.

Bridge of Clay is a pretty hard book to get into, at least to begin with. There are always two narratives in each section. At first I found this a bit baffling, then I got the hang of it and enjoyed it for a bit. It’s possible to follow along when the second narrative [usually in the past] is about absent characters such as the mother, or when there was a section about how the Dunbar parents met for the first time. But it becomes confusing, and a touch frustrating, when the second narrative is about characters who also appear in the present, such as Matthew or Clay. It’s not the easiest thing to keep up with, and it’s not really something I recommend you read just before bed. Not because the book will give you nightmares, or anything like that, but because it requires you to be concentrating as you read.

That being said, if you’re willing to take your time with it, Bridge of Clay is a thoroughly enjoyable read. As strange as the synopsis makes the book sound, it’s actually very charming and gripping. In some ways, it reminds me somewhat of Haruki Murakami’s novels, particularly with the inclusion of all the pets. The Dunbars seem to have a habit of adopting strange animals and then naming them after Greek heroes in homage to Homer. My particular favourite is Achilles, the mule. Yes, they really do have a mule, which sometimes breaks into their house when given half a chance. It’s definitely a weird little quirk to the story that works nicely. More importantly, it points to the semi-feral status of the Dunbar boys. Their mother, Penelope, is dead, and their father abandons them, leaving Matthew [the eldest, and the narrator] to try and support himself and his four brothers.

Which is why, as a reader, you feel a certain amount of second-hand anger when their father comes back, seemingly on a whim, and requests help with building a bridge. There’s a kind of strange reality at play here, something that seems beyond the realms of possibility. He’s not just after a little bridge to go over the pond in his backyard. Nope, he’s after an actual huge-ass bridge. Which is why it makes sense that he needs help, but not so much why he asks the brothers. It’s pretty obvious that he’s doing it to try and build a [cough cough] bridge between them, but it still seems a bit ridiculous that he would have the nerve to come ask for a favour after abandoning them. When Clay agrees, to the anger of the other brothers, you can’t help but feel a mixture of anger and sadness over his decision.

This points to what is clearly Zusak’s finest tool in his writing arsenal– his ability to write real, poignant characters. Ones you could imagine bumping into in the street, or living on the other side of town. Zusak’s world, as strange as it may sometimes seem, is still our own. He’s able to bring his characters to life, able to make you wish that you knew them outside of the confines of the paper. It’s truly a magical talent.

And here’s another thing he does well– writing prose. The prose in Bridge of Clay, like in Zusak’s other works, is nothing short of art. It’s lyrical and poetic and it just pulls at something inside of you. At times, it can be a little heavy-handed. There were moments towards the end of the book where I was uncertain what was actually going on, but mostly they’re just gorgeous. Anyone who is interested in writing beautiful prose should absolutely check out this book, and anything else that has Zusak’s master touch. Between the brilliant characters and heart-wrenching descriptions, it’s really no surprise that I sobbed my heart out at the end of this book. And I know I won’t be alone in that, either. I will grant a cookie to anyone who is able to make it through this novel without tearing up.

In conclusion, Bridge of Clay was a beautiful and haunting read that I will definitely be recommending to friends. There are times when the dual narrative is confusing, and sometimes the descriptions become so descriptive and so saturated with metaphors that it’s hard to keep up with the plot, but the amazing characters and the sheer beauty of the prose is definitely worth the amount of concentration this book expects from you. I’m giving it an 8.5/10 stars.

Bridge of Clay is acclaimed, prize-winning author Markus Zusak's long-awaited follow-up to the spectacular The Book Thief which was first published in 2006, and while it wasn't as enjoyable as that, there is still much to admire about it. I cannot see it as being as successful, but it will appeal to those who delight in Zusak's inimitable writing style. The story follows the lives of the five Dunbar brothers who live at 18 Archer Street, Sydney, in a house without adults. It charts their struggles since their mother passed away and father walked out on them without so much as a word. It also takes a look at the hopes and aspirations of their parents, Michael and Penny, before the boys were born.

This is a beautiful, emotive and heartfelt novel about the ups and downs we all have in life and the emotions that accompany them. When I read that Zusak had decided to write in exactly the way he wanted to on matters close to his heart knowing that no matter the book or the story, you simply cannot please everyone, I was full of admiration. Needless to say, not everyone will appreciate the subtly nuanced ruminations on life, love, grief, loss, and so much more. This appears to be a story you will either love or hate, a classic "marmite" novel if you will. If you enjoy books that explore the often hidden issues under the surface or the philosophical underpinnings to life you'll likely love this. On the other hand, if you need action and a solid plot this may not be for you as it doesn't really have a plot per se, it's more of a character-driven tale. The perspective is one that constantly changes with potential for confusion and will not suit everyone, and It's certainly a challenge to engage with but once you are it's a captivating read.

Many thanks to Doubleday for an ARC. I was not required to post a review, and all thoughts and opinions expressed are my own.