Emma Donoghue's "Room"

Oh, where to even begin... I think I have told everybody who might be remotely interested to read this book. It's been on my list since it started racking up nominations and awards last year, and even with the hype, it still blew me away.

The premise of Room is simple: Jack and his Ma live in a 14x14 room, which is the entirety of Jack's universe. Jack and Ma live a highly routinized life: three meals each at 8ish, 12, and 5; one TV show a day (Jack loves Dora); exercise by running around Track; Shouting time, when they each take turns shouting at Skylight; building Snake (who lives under Bed) out of cracked eggshells; and each night Jack goes to sleep in Wardrobe and hopes that Old Nick won't come and visit Ma. Jack's voice is idiosyncratic and compelling; Donoghue claims the reader up until the very last page, which you both race towards and dread.

What makes this novel so fantastic is the subtle way Donoghue narrates the horrors of their life while maintaining Jack's perspective. One of  the more horrific scenes describes Jack counting the creaks of the bed from his hiding spot in the wardrobe while waiting for Old Nick to leave his Ma alone. On his fifth birthday, Ma decides he is old enough for the truth and so explains that there is a world outside of Room that is real, and that many things seen on TV are actually real. And soon, much too soon for young Jack, Ma begins planning their escape. Despite being told from an adoring son's point of view, Room presents Ma as a character with flaws of her own. She deals with serious depression and a guilt complex throughout the narrative, all of which is sketched on the sidelines of Jack discovering the truth about the world and his life.

Room is one of those books that is almost impossible to review fully without divulging all of the significant plot points; I personally think this is because the narrative, the ways Donoghue crafts her story, outshine the story, even such a tragic and compelling story as this. Read, read, read it.