Hoda is a prostitute, but that is not the most important fact about her. Earthy, bawdy, vulnerable, and big-hearted, she is the daughter of an impoverished Jewish couple who emigrated from Russia to Canada to escape persecution. Growing up in a ghetto of Winnipeg, she experiences cruelty and bigotry early and fights back with humor and anger, which is something to behold as her young body takes on gargantuan proportions. In the neighborhood, she is considered a crackpot and worse. In truth, she is a cracked pot, a flawed human being, but her quest for love, which brings hope out of humiliation, is one of the most memorable in modern fiction.
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Crackpot , set in the period between two world wars, is Adele Wiseman's comic vision, for all its darkness. Somewhat satirically, the novel touches on puritanical hypocrisy and the inhumanity of institutions, notably the schools and the welfare system. Hoda, caught in a web of relationships beginning with her blind father and humpbacked mother, is its great heartbeat.
Adele Wiseman was a Canadian author. Her parents were Russian-Jews who emigrated from the Ukraine to Canada, in part, to escape the pogroms that accompanied the Russian Civil War.
In 1956, Wiseman published her first novel, The Sacrifice, which won the Governor General's Award. Her only other novel, Crackpot, was published in 1974. Wiseman also published plays, children's stories, essays, and other non-fiction.
Oh, Hoda, how I will miss you. I really will. I'll be thinking of you for years to come. You got right inside of me, right into my heart and my head. You opened up what I thought was already an open mind, and stretched it just a little bit further. You were unique and uncomfortable and heartfelt. You were incredible. I am truly going to miss you -- and I can't say that that's happened very often for a fictional character.
Oh, Adele Wiseman, how sad I am that I'm only discovering you decades after your death, and that we'll never get a new book from you. Thank you for your incredible writing, your command of language, your creativity and the inspiration you've provided about the limitless way to use words and convey emotion.
This book is so unique, and so loving. With just a few pages left I actually shed tears at the thought of leaving the main character Hoda behind. What would happen to her? How could I help her? The ending was completely satisfying, and really the only ending that could have worked. There were some crazy scenes in this book I could never have guessed, and could never have imagined, and yet it all wrapped up intelligently and emotionally.
I LOVE this book. One of the best-ever. Amazing how 43 years after its publication, it's still so relevant.
At first I was thinking of this book as a tragicomedy, but it isn't tragic in the ordinary sense. The element of tragedy if present is not due to a fall into moral turpitude but instead, it's that because of her place and time, she cannot use her larger than life persona to create in the world what she might otherwise have been capable of. After I finished I thought maybe the book is better described as a bildungsroman. But not only that; I still think tragicomedy applies as well.
I'm going to give the book a theme song: Leonard Cohen's "Anthem." The chorus in particular applies:
Ring the bells that still can ring Forget your perfect offering There is a crack, a crack in everything That’s how the light gets in.
Another connection is to the kabbalistic midrash of the cracked vessels, Hoda being a cracked pot who cannot hold all there is. Neither can any of us.
I didn't look up the author before reading the book, but just tonight I found a good biographical sketch from the Jewish Women's Archive: Both her novels were set in Winnipeg's North End, an intense and insular community of Germans, Jews, Ukrainians, and Slavs, according to the write-up. I also noticed that she married the same year she had her one child, when she would have turned 41, and that she divorced two years before her death.
Her first book won great acclaim, but this one, being very different, did not; it took a while before Crackpot's greatness was hailed.
Just as well the book isn't widely rediscovered in the U.S. at this time, or there would be a huge rush to ban it.
Extremely good. The author is able to flawlessly write from another's perspective with sympathy and realism. That or she lived the life of Hoda, which I think is very unlikely. This is a hidden gem of CanLit, and puts some of the modern hype-meisters to shame. The Sacrifice was fantastic, and in Crackpot it is proven that Wiseman is fantastically talented and honest. It's good literature and doesn't need any appellations beyond that.
This was such a disturbing book. The story itself was interesting but I couldn't get past the fact that the child in the book was basically a prostitute. I just found it really disturbing. I had to read it for a university ENG class and I just really did not enjoy it.
A classic I should have read ages ago. Vivid telling of early Winnipeg North End through the story of a Jewish family. Hoda is an overweight girl and then young woman... who can talk herself into any situation being for the good of humanity. Even when it is prostitution. Funny, sad, poignant, and incredibly well written. It is a little too long, but it is so well written you won't care.
I felt as though this started off slow, picked up a lot in the middle to where I couldn't put it down, and then ended rather abruptly. Although I loved the characters, I couldn't help but feel a bit disappointed.
This is the disturbing and tragic story of Hoda, the daughter of Russian-Jewish immigrants. Hoda is a much-loved child and she grows up listening to family stories proudly told by her blind father Danile, who naively believes in his good luck in spite of poverty and misfortune. Danile and his slightly hunchbacked wife Rahel were married in a graveyard during a cholera epidemic in the old country. It appeared that the Jews were not quite as susceptible to the disease as gentiles and as the epidemic continued the threat of a pogrom frightened the Jewish community. An old belief held that the marriage of the community’s poorest, least able members in a cemetery would end the epidemic. Danile and Rahel were chosen. In return, the community would provide a dowry, a mud hut, and look after them. But as time went on people forgot the epidemic and their responsibility for the couple. Eventually they were sponsored to immigrate to Canada by an uncle in Winnipeg who was unaware of Danile’s blindness and saw them only as a financial burden once they arrived. They found a hovel in the north end of the city and Rahel went out to clean the houses of middleclass Jews. Because of Danile’s blindness she had to take Hoda along and constantly fed her to keep the child quiet. If life wasn’t already hard enough for this family, Rahel began to feel the growth of an abdominal tumour but did not take it seriously enough and postponed the surgery until it was too late. After her death, Danile’s prosperous uncle, harbouring dreams of becoming a community philanthropist, promised generous donations to the Jewish Orphanage and to the old folk’s home, thinking that he would be able to place his unwanted and dependent relatives there. He was stunned and furious by Danile and Hoda’s refusal to be separated and washed his hands of them. Danile had recently learned to weave baskets, and the two scraped by on the sale of these and with scraps that Hoda was given by the butcher in return for sexual favours. Hoda did not recognize until years later that her innocence had been abused. At school she was an outcast due to her obesity, her poverty, and lack of cleanliness. Soon she was to turn to the adolescent boys for acceptance, for love, and ultimately for money, becoming a prostitute. And yet she still optimistically believed that better days would come. When the cold weather came she brought the boys to her home telling Danile that she was tutoring them. He, either naively or willfully blind, seemed to accept this story and would retire to his room so as not to disturb them. Ignorant and with no one to talk to about women’s concerns, Hoda did not believe that she could become pregnant and thought she was becoming ill like her mother when she began to feel changes in her body. Wiseman’s writing vividly describes the terrifying experience of giving birth, at night, alone, and completely ignorant, Hoda screaming soundlessly to avoid disturbing and frightening her father. The realization of what had happened propelled her to action, cleaning up all traces, and walking in the middle of the night to the orphanage where she abandoned her son on the porch. The note she left with him would cause much speculation in the community as to his origins. Afterwards, Hoda carried on with her prostitution but learned to protect herself. She would also take cleaning jobs when they were available. She and Danile carried on as before, but Hoda now carried a sadness within her. Years later, Hoda met her adolescent son and this was truly tragic. Wiseman has created a character that one can’t help but feel deeply for, and yet feeling sorry for her one can’t help but admire the earthy Hoda’s resourcefulness, her optimism, her courage and her love. I’m surprised that this well-written novel with its strong characterisation and portrayal of Winnipeg's north end through the period of the World Wars and the Winnipeg General Strike isn’t better known. Wiseman was a contemporary and good friend of Margaret Laurence.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
Wow. This is a challenging book, both in terms of subject matter and writing style. However, it is really rewarding. Honda is one of the most interesting characters in CanLit. She is vulgar, yet sensitive; coarse, yet charming, world wise, yet incredibly naive. As a child she is neglected and abused - neglected by her parents because they try, but don't know any better; by her teachers because they simply don't care. And she is used by her schoolmates and neighbours for sexual favours. All leads to an end that is both heartbreaking and heartwarming. Through it all, Hoda remains positive, overcomes her self-esteem issues and becomes an incredibly strong, resourceful woman. This is not a book to take lightly. The writing style can be dense and difficult to penetrate. This is not a fault, it forces the reader to pay attention and think. Numerous times I had to retread pages to ensure I knew what was being said. It is a very good book that deserves a wider readership.
This book is the reason that I read books. Hoda - honest, loud, loving, free-spirited Hoda - has joined Sara Goldfarb (Requiem for a Dream by Hubert Selby Jr.) and Pecola Breedlove (The Bluest Eye by Toni Morrison) as a fictional character* that will live with me forever. (*None of these characters feel fictional - they all live, love, hurt and continue to breathe long after you've turned the final page).
Yes, there are scenes in Crackpot that are disturbing; read it anyway. This is a book that will open your mind and your heart.
This is by far one of the best books I have read from Adel Wiseman. I first read this book in a Ontario Literature Course in University. I have since made time to re-read it every now and again as the story is one that touches your heart. Sometimes the insite we get from the way others live gives you such a different perspective on your own life.
Great book, but not an easy book. It was disturbing, heartwrenching, sometimes humorous and totally captivating. I felt like I was witnessing a train wreck. A remarkable story of Hoda's survival growing up a in crushing poverty. Hardships piled on disppointments heaped on tradgedies. At times hard to read and hard to put down.
Uf! Humor *muy* negro, situaciones inconcebibles, discriminación, comunismo, activismo. Una verdadera feminista. La autora sin tabúes, la protagonista sin malicia. Vale mucho la pena
"It was by this time her fate to have been part, even if only fragmentarily, of the past of such a great segment of the community that she was something of a vested memory, as much to those who would not admit to having had any personal contact as to those who boasted innumerable encounters, and every story, new or old, in which she distinguished herself by being somehow still unrepentantly out of pitch with the rest of humanity was as welcome as the fragile daily illusion that nothing is really changing." (441)
I just can't get into the way the the story goes off in tangents and the circuitous nature of the sentence structure. I've spent too many days trying to get through 56 pages, so DNF.