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Water for Elephants by Sara Gruen |
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As a young man, Jacob Jankowski was tossed by fate onto a rickety train that was home to the Benzini Brothers Most Spectacular Show on Earth. It was the early part of the great Depression, and for Jacob, now ninety, the circus world he remembers was both his salvation and a living hell. A veterinary student just shy of a degree, he was put in charge of caring for the circus menagerie. It was there that he met Marlena, the beautiful equestrian star married to August, the charismatic but twisted animal trainer. And he met Rosie, an untrainable elephant who was the great gray hope for this third-rate traveling show. The bond that grew among this unlikely trio was one of love and trust, and, ultimately, it was their only hope for survival. 'Water for Elephants resembles stealth hits like The Giant's House, by Elizabeth McCracken, or The Lovely Bones, by Alice Sebold, books that combine outrageously whimsical premises with crowd-pleasing romanticism. . . . With a showman's expert timing, [Gruen] saves a terrific revelation for the final pages, transforming a glimpse of Americana into an enchanting escapist fairy tale.'-The New York Times Book Review 'Gritty, sensual and charged with dark secrets involving love,murder and a majestic,mute heroine (Rosie the Elephant).'-Parade 'Has a ringmaster's crowd-pleasing pace' - Entertainment Weekly 'You'll get lost in the tatty glamour of Gruen's meticulously researched world, from spangled equestrian pageantry and the sleazy side show to an ill-fated night at a Chicago speak-easy' Only three people were left under the red and white awning of the grease joint: Grady, me, and the fry cook. Grady and I sat at a battered wooden table, each facing a burger on a dented tin plate. The cook was behind the counter, scraping his griddle with the edge of a spatula. He had turned off the fryer some time ago, but the odor of grease lingered. The rest of the midway-so recently writhing with people-was empty but for a handful of employees and a small group of men waiting to be led to the cooch tent. They glanced nervously from side to side, with hats pulled low and hands thrust deep in their pockets. They wouldn't be dis appointed: somewhere in the back Barbara and her ample charms awaited. The other townsfolk-rubes, as Uncle Al called them-had already made their way through the menagerie tent and into the big top, which pulsed with frenetic music. The band was whipping through its repertoire at the usual earsplitting volume. I knew the routine by heart-at this very moment, the tail end of the Grand Spectacle was exiting and Lottie, the aerialist, was ascending her rigging in the center ring. I stared at Grady, trying to process what he was saying. He glanced around and leaned in closer. 'Besides,' he said, locking eyes with me, 'it seems to me you've got a lot to lose right now.' He raised his eyebrows for emphasis. My heart skipped a beat. Thunderous applause exploded from the big top, and the band slid seamlessly into the Gounod waltz. I turned instinctively toward the menagerie because this was the cue for the elephant act. Marlena was either preparing to mount or was already sitting on Rosie's head. 'I've got to go,' I said. 'Sit,' said Grady. 'Eat. If you're thinking of clearing out, it may be a while before you see food again.' That moment, the music screeched to a halt. There was an ungodly collision of brass, reed, and percussion-trombones and piccolos skidded into cacophony, a tuba farted, and the hollow clang of a cymbal wavered out of the big top, over our heads and into oblivion. Grady froze, crouched over his burger with his pinkies extended and lips spread wide. I looked from side to side. No one moved a muscle-all eyes were directed at the big top. A few wisps of hay swirled lazily across the hard dirt. 'What is it? What's going on?' I said. 'Shh,' Grady hissed. The band started up again, playing 'Stars and Stripes Forever.' 'Oh Christ. Oh shit!' Grady tossed his food onto the table and leapt up, knocking over the bench. 'What? What is it?' I yelled, because he was already running away from me. 'The Disaster March!' he screamed over his shoulder. I jerked around to the fry cook, who was ripping off his apron. 'What the hell's he talking about?' 'The Disaster March,' he said, wrestling the apron over his head. 'Means something's gone bad - real bad.' 'Like what?' 'Could be anything-fire in the big top, stampede, whatever. Aw sweet Jesus. The poor rubes probably don't even know it yet.' He ducked under the hinged door and took off. Chaos-candy butchers vaulting over counters, workmen staggering out from under tent flaps, roustabouts racing headlong across the lot. Anyone and everyone associated with the Benzini Brothers Most Spectacular Show on Earth barreled toward the big top. Diamond Joe passed me at the human equivalent of a full gallop. ' Jacob-it's the menagerie,' he screamed. 'The animals are loose. Go, go, go !' He didn't need to tell me twice. Marlena 'Gorgeous, brilliant, and superbly plotted, Water for Elephants swept meinto the world of the circus during the Depression, and it did not let me gountil the very end. I don't think it has let me go, even now. Sara Gruen hasa voice to rival John Irving's, and I am hopelessly, unabashedly in love withthis book. Read it.' -Joshilyn Jackson, author of Gods in Alabama 'So much more than a tale about a circus, Water for Elephants is a compellingjourney not only under the big top, but into the protagonist's heart.Sara Gruen uses her talent as a writer to bring that world alive for thereader: I could smell it, taste it, feel every word of it. This is a fiction reader'sdream come true.' -Jeanne Ray, author of Julie and Romeo Get Lucky 'In this thrilling, romantic story set in a traveling circus in the 1930s, SaraGruen has a big top's worth of vivid characters and an exhilarating narrativethat kept me up all night. From the perseverance of a terrier namedQueenie to the charm of Rosie the elephant, this masterpiece of storytellingis a book about what animals can teach people about love.' -Susan Cheever, author of My Name Is Bill |
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