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Summary
Summary
A mesmerizing literary debut novel of doubt, faith, and perseverance in the aftermath of a family tragedy--for fans of Me Before You, Little Bee, and Tell the Wolves I'm Home .
The Bradleys see the world as a place where miracles are possible, and where nothing is more important than family. This is their story.
It is the story of Ian Bradley--husband, father, math teacher, and Mormon bishop--and his unshakeable belief that everything will turn out all right if he can only endure to the end, like the pioneers did. It is the story of his wife, Claire, her lonely wait for a sign from God, and her desperate need for life to pause while she comes to terms with tragedy.
And it is the story of their children: sixteen-year-old Zippy, experiencing the throes of first love; cynical fourteen-year-old Al, who would rather play soccer than read the Book of Mormon; and seven-year-old Jacob, whose faith is bigger than a mustard seed--probably bigger than a toffee candy, he thinks--and which he's planning to use to mend his broken family with a miracle.
Intensely moving, unexpectedly funny, and deeply observed, A Song for Issy Bradley explores the outer reaches of doubt and faith, and of a family trying to figure out how to carry on when the innermost workings of their world have broken apart.
Praise for A Song for Issy Bradley
"I loved A Song for Issy Bradley . It's wry, smart . . . moving and comforting. . . . A terrific book [about] faith, and what happens to that faith when the unimaginable happens." --Nick Hornby, The Believer
" The Book of Mormon with an English accent." -- New York Post
"Bray fully inhabits each of her characters, displaying an admirable range of narrative talent rare in a first novel. Fans of The Lonely Polygamist and Where'd You Go, Bernadette will savor this thrilling glimpse behind the scenes of a family in crisis." -- Booklist (starred review)
"With wit and compassion, plus insider knowledge of the Mormon way of life, Bray exposes the raw emotions of a family in crisis. An intriguing and heartbreaking story from an author to watch." -- Library Journal
"An absorbing, beautifully written debut novel with surprising moments of humor." -- Kirkus Reviews
"In this wry, original, generous-spirited debut novel, members of a family come to terms with grief, each in his or her own way. They wrestle with belief and disillusionment, desire and hopelessness, pervasive sorrow and moments of transcendent joy. The result is riveting, powerful, and quietly devastating. Quite simply, A Song for Issy Bradley took my breath away." --Christina Baker Kline, #1 New York Times bestselling author of Orphan Train
" A Song for Issy Bradley is that rarest of things--a book that is beautiful, tender, and a page-turner. Carys Bray made me fall hopelessly in love with each and every one of the Bradleys." --Carol Rifka Brunt, New York Times bestselling author of Tell the Wolves I'm Home
"I cannot remember the last time I have felt so emotionally invested in a novel. It is brilliant and profoundly moving, utterly compelling and almost unbearably real." --Nathan Filer, author of The Shock of the Fall
Author Notes
Carys Bray completed an M.A. in creative writing at Edge Hill University in 2010. That same year she won the M.A. category of the Edge Hill Prize for the Short Story, and her stories have since been published in a variety of literary magazines. She was awarded the Scott Prize for her debut collection, Sweet Home, and is now working on a Ph.D. She lives in Southport, England, with her husband and four children. This is her first novel.
Reviews (4)
Booklist Review
*Starred Review* The members of the Bradley family are close. They have to be, as committed members of the Mormon faith in a decidedly secular British neighborhood. When an unexpected tragedy suddenly hits the family, each of the Bradleys reacts in very different ways. Ian, the patriarch and respected church elder, sees the tragedy as an opportunity to grow his family's faith and looks to holy texts for guidance. Claire, the matriarch and a convert to the Mormon way of life through marriage, questions not only her place in the church but also her importance to the family. The three Bradley children, Alma, Zippy, and Jacob, ponder morality, purity, and loss in their own distinct ways. While the family slowly attempts to rebuild after the tragedy, the possibility that they may never fully recover simmers quietly just below the surface. Bray was raised in a strict Mormon household, and her unique perspective colors this emotionally driven, poignant novel. Bray fully inhabits each of her characters, displaying an admirable range of narrative talent rare in a first novel. Fans of The Lonely Polygamist (2010) and Where'd You Go, Bernadette (2012) will savor this thrilling glimpse behind the scenes of a family in crisis.--Turza, Stephanie Copyright 2014 Booklist
Guardian Review
Carys Bray's debut novel tells the story of the Bradleys: Ian, zealous head of the house, "Superman in a Burton suit", who thinks telling a story about his children in church goes "some way towards making up for not seeing much of them"; put-upon Claire, who converted to Ian's faith before marrying him and has more or less managed to toe the line ever since; love-struck Zippy; football-mad Alma; seven-year old Jacob; and the eponymous heroine, four-year-old Issy, who vacates the novel - and her life - shortly after she enters it. In some ways the Bradleys are ordinary, if perhaps poorer than most: they shop at Asda and Primark, eat chicken nuggets and cannot afford double-glazing. In other ways they could not be more different from the materialistic western world, because the Bradleys are Mormons and belong to the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints. Their religion, a religion Bray herself was apparently raised in and devoted herself to until her early 30s, places extraordinary demands upon them. These demands mean that Ian is not at home on his seven-year-old son's birthday; Claire is so busy preparing for the party that she fails to detect that her youngest daughter is seriously ill; and, when Issy dies, a slide show of her life is not allowed to be shown at the funeral, her grandparents do not attend and her mother has to fight for the right to have the coffin stay in the living room rather than the mortuary prior to burial. The novel's subject is faith and the Bradleys' faith is subjected through the course of it to a trial from which even Ian - staunch believer that everything is ultimately as it should be - emerges shaken. Bray slips with thoroughness, imagination and dexterity into each of≈the characters' consciousness, dramatising their struggle to accept religion's contorted justifications for why the unthinkable has happened. The book shows radical religion through the eyes, not of a convert, but the profoundly disillusioned. Bray is wincingly honest and emotions are portrayed with an assurance that comes from understanding: Claire hoarding pounds 10 a week from the housekeeping money without knowing why; her desire to weep in gratitude as cars pull over during the ambulance ride to the hospital with Issy; wanting not to tell her unconscious daughter stories as she sits in the intensive care unit but memorise every detail of her; Zippy's conviction that her sister's body is completely devoid of "Issy-ness" upon seeing it in the mortuary - all these ring true and make for arresting reading. The novel is not devoid of humour, either. There are some wonderful one-liners: "the eternal consequences of football-related immorality"; "porn is everywhere, online and in the Next catalogue"; "the dangers of the dark", "hazard of the horizontal" and "perils of privacy"; those "naughty 'B's: never show . . . breast, back, bottom or belly". Perhaps Bray's greatest gift, however, is understatement, demonstrated when Claire, in the final scene, clad in her nightie and stranded on an island of sand, is described as "so very lost", or when Jacob attempts to remind his father - who even as he is deciding what should be on his daughter's tombstone is also thinking how he can give a testament of faith to the grieving mourners - of the presence of his family by tapping his arm and saying: "We're sad, Dad." A Song for Issy Bradley is a skilful and empathetic dramatisation. The fact that it deals with such distressing subject matter without falling prey to sentimentality makes it all the more admirable. Grace McCleen's The Professor of Poetry is published by Sceptre. To order A Song for Issy Bradley for pounds 10.39 with free UK p&p call Guardian book service on 0330 333 6846 or go to guardianbookshop.co.uk. - Grace McCleen The novel is not devoid of humour, either. There are some wonderful one-liners: "the eternal consequences of football-related immorality"; "porn is everywhere, online and in the Next catalogue"; "the dangers of the dark", "hazard of the horizontal" and "perils of privacy"; those "naughty 'B's: never show . . . breast, back, bottom or belly". Perhaps [Carys Bray]'s greatest gift, however, is understatement, demonstrated when [Claire], in the final scene, clad in her nightie and stranded on an island of sand, is described as "so very lost", or when Jacob attempts to remind his father - who even as he is deciding what should be on his daughter's tombstone is also thinking how he can give a testament of faith to the grieving mourners - of the presence of his family by tapping his arm and saying: "We're sad, Dad." - Grace McCleen.
Kirkus Review
When 4-year-old Issy dies of meningitis, her Mormon family struggles with sadness, doubt and faith. The BradleysIan, Claire, Zippy, Alma, Jacob and Issydon't live in Salt Lake City but rather in an English town where Ian is constantly on call as bishop to a small flock of Latter-day Saints. He misses Jacob's seventh birthday party, leaving Claire so stretched she doesn't notice Issy's fever is more than a regular cold. The little girl's death sends her family reeling; rather than bringing them closer, it fractures them, especially once Claire retreats to Issy's bed and won't get up. Ian believes in telling the truth at all times, but what kind of example would he be setting if people knew he couldn't solve his own family's problems? So he begins covering for Claire when people ask about her, shocking his children. Zippy is sure of her own rectitude until she discovers the pleasure of kissing the boy she's long wanted to marry; will he now see her as tarnished goods? Alma is a boy who'd rather be called Al, thank you very much, and he's the requisite doubter among the children; what good is religion if it makes his father force him off the soccer team? Young Jacob believes so fervently in the power of prayer that he sets about trying to resurrect Issy, practicing first on bugs, spiders and a goldfish. Each chapter follows a different Bradley, and Bray brings her characters to complicated, messy life with her tremendous power for empathy. It's rare to see religious faith explored so deeply in popular fiction, and though Ian's nearly unquestioning devotion can make him seem like the villain at times, Bray does a remarkable job of illuminating each character's hopes and fears.An absorbing, beautifully written debut novel with surprising moments of humor. Copyright Kirkus Reviews, used with permission.
Library Journal Review
In British author Bray's debut novel, Claire and Ian Bradley are part of a Mormon community in England struggling to raise their children-Al, Zippy, Jacob, and Issy-in the ways of the church despite modern influences. Ian is the bishop, on call 24/7, while convert Claire has an unconventional approach to her beliefs but has accepted this restricted life because of her deep love for Ian. Jacob believes he's seen proof of resurrection when his goldfish comes back to life. Al longs to play football, imagines he's adopted, and doesn't believe in miracles, such as a cheesy crisp shaped like Jesus. Zippy frets after a heavy petting session with her boyfriend, only to be given a pamphlet to help her with her guilt. The family's predictable, ordered life falls apart when tragedy strikes Issy, with a depressed Claire feeling that her faith has failed her and Ian making excuses because he doesn't want people to think there's something wrong with his wife. -VERDICT With wit and compassion, plus insider knowledge of the Mormon way of life, Bray exposes the raw emotions of a family in crisis. An intriguing and heartbreaking story from an author to watch.-Donna -Bettencourt, Mesa Cty. P.L., Palisade, CO (c) Copyright 2014. Library Journals LLC, a wholly owned subsidiary of Media Source, Inc. No redistribution permitted.
Excerpts
Excerpts
- 1 - Birthday Boy Jacob wakes up early. He isn't sure why at first and then he remembers it's his birthday, which makes his stomach tip like a Slinky. It's still dark, the thick kind that hides your hands from you. He lies quietly for a few moments, willing morning to get nearer. "Issy, are you awake?" He listens for a reply. The sound of his heartbeat pulses in his ears and he gives them a hard rub. The bunk bed creaks as he sits up to lean over the side. "Issy. Issy." Issy makes a little noise and the bed creaks. Not him this time; she must have turned over. "It's my birthday, Issy!" "I'm asleep." "You're not, you're awake now. Go on, say 'Happy Birthday' to me." "I don't feel good." "I'm the birthday boy!" "Shush." "Happy Birthday to me! Happy Birthday to me!" He waits for Issy to wish him "Happy Birthday" and rubs his ears again--they are thrumming with the darkness. "I'm going to get up. Want to sneak downstairs with me?" He climbs down the ladder and stands next to the bottom bunk. Issy's silence suggests she has slipped back to sleep, so he opens the bedroom door and creeps out onto the landing. He sneaks along the corridor and peeps his head around Al's half-closed door. There's no sign of life, so he sneaks a little farther. Mum and Dad have shut their door, and the stairs up to Zippy's room are too squeaky to risk. He turns back and tiptoes down the stairs, remembering to stand in the quiet places. He goes into the living room and switches on the television. He turns the volume down to number eight and flicks from channel to channel. It's too early for children's programs, so he finds the news. There's a clock in the corner of the screen: ten past five. He decides to watch a DVD. His favorite cartoon at the moment is one from the Book of Mormon collection. It's the story of Ammon, who goes on a mission to the savage Lamanites. The Lamanites don't wear many clothes and they've got red and blue war paint on their chests and faces. They capture Ammon and take him to their king. The king is called Lamoni and he is fierce, with two long braids, blue earrings, and a feathery hair band. King Lamoni agrees to let Ammon be a servant, and he tells Ammon to look after the sheep. One day some wicked men come and try to steal the king's sheep. Ammon is completely brave. At first he uses a sling and some stones to shoot at the men like in David and Goliath, but eventually Ammon gets fed up with firing stones and he pulls out his sword and chops the men's arms off. Chop! Chop! Chop! Jacob slides off the sofa, steps over Issy's Cinderella beanbag, and rummages in the toy box for Al's old light saber. Chop! Chop! Chop! He chops along with Ammon and the Lamanites' arms break off like twigs. Serves them right! The servants take the arms back to the king in a bag, and he opens the bag and says, "Yes, these are arms, all right." The king thinks Ammon must be the Great Spirit, but Ammon says he is just a messenger. The king is so pleased with the bag of arms that he listens to Ammon's message about Heavenly Father. In the end, everyone is happy--except for the men with no arms, of course. The story of Ammon is a true story from the Book of Mormon, which means it tells people something Heavenly Father wants them to know. Jacob lies down on the sofa and thinks about what he knows as the music plays and the credits roll: Stealing sheep is bad, swords are dangerous, and fighting might be OK if you do it for the right reasons. Mum comes down just after seven o'clock. "Hello, birthday boy. What are you doing down here?" "I woke up and then I couldn't get back to sleep." "You daft thing." Mum wraps her arms around him and gives him a squeezy kiss. "Let's make breakfast, shall we?" They make pancakes. What an ace start to his birthday! Mum lets him crack the eggs. She doesn't get cross when the shells shatter into the mixture, and she does extra tosses before putting the pancakes in a dish in the oven to keep warm. "Shall we sing a song, Mum? Shall we? I'll pick--I'm the birthday boy! Let's sing 'Here We Are Together.' " Mum laughs. "Not that one, you always pick it! Tell you what, you sing while I finish doing this." She pours more mixture into the pan and Jacob starts to sing. "Here we are together, together, together, Here we are together in our family. There's Mum and Dad and Zippy and Alma and Jacob and Issy And here we are together in our family." Mum opens the oven door and slips the new pancake into the big dish. "Lovely singing," she says in the way she always does, even when he forgets the words and loses the up and down of the tune. "Will you tell me a story now?" He climbs onto the kitchen table and sits with his bare feet resting on the seat of one of the chairs. He sniffs the burny smell of hot oil and feels a fizz of birthday happiness in his tummy. "Tell me the story of when I was born." "Well, once upon a time, exactly seven years ago today," Mum begins, and she recites his story while she opens the cupboards to find syrup, chocolate sauce, lemon juice, and sugar. She jumps when the telephone rings and Jacob climbs off the table and wraps his arms around her waist as she answers it. He billows his face into her pillowy middle, closes his eyes, and squeezes extra tight. He holds his breath and pretends his supersonic strength can stick her to the spot. "Hello, Sister Anderson. No, of course you're not a nuisance." Jacob knows what's coming next. If he had a big sword he could chop Sister Anderson's arms off and then she wouldn't be able to use the telephone. "Well, it's Jacob's birthday. But . . . yes, of course, just a moment. I'll go and get him." Jacob doesn't let go of Mum when she attempts to move. She tucks the phone under her chin and tries to unfasten his arms. "Jacob." He holds on, even though he knows it's silly, even though he knows he will make her cross. Mum pulls the phone out from under her chin and covers the mouthpiece with her hand. "Stop it. Let go. Now." "But what about my presents? Has Dad got to go? He's already missing my party, he can't go out now as well! Am I going to have to wait until he gets back before I can open anything?" "Let go." He lets his hands flop to his sides and stands statue-still, pulling his saddest face. But Mum isn't having it. She shakes her head, then goes upstairs. It's suddenly lonely in the kitchen. Jacob hears the low rumble of Dad's voice through the ceiling. He suspects Dad is going to miss the birthday pancakes and he tries to think of something to make him stay. He knows "Please" won't be enough, because Dad likes to follow the rules. If he is going to stop him, he will have to come up with a bigger, more important rule than the one about helping people, a rule that will trump the saying Dad always repeats when he has to disappear at important moments: "Inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of the least of these, my brethren, ye have done it unto me." Mum has an easier way of saying the almost-same thing: "Do as you would be done by." Jacob thinks about the best way to persuade Dad--"Inasmuch as you have stayed to eat breakfast with me on my birthday, you have done it unto Jesus." But it sounds cheeky. He wishes Dad was the kind of person who would say, "No, I'm sorry I can't come. If it's an emergency, you must call the police or the fire brigade because today is Jacob's birthday." But he knows Dad isn't that kind of man because Dad has already said, "Of course I'll come to a missionary meeting on Saturday. I'll miss Jacob's party, but I'm sure he'll understand." Jacob looks at the casserole dish of pancakes through the glass of the oven door and decides that after he has died and gone to live in the Celestial Kingdom, when he is actually in charge of his own world, he will make it a commandment for dads to stay at home on their children's birthdays. And if they don't, he will send a prophet to chop their arms off. Issy wakes up with achy arms. When she opens her eyes, they are full of lightning icicles. She tries to get out of bed and discovers that there isn't much breath in her tummy. She wonders if part of her has popped in the night, like a balloon. Excerpted from A Song for Issy Bradley: A Novel by Carys Bray All rights reserved by the original copyright owners. Excerpts are provided for display purposes only and may not be reproduced, reprinted or distributed without the written permission of the publisher.