Book Review: Nothing Sacred by Lori Hahnel

May 6, 2011
Robin van Eck

Nothing Sacred - Thistledown Press

Review of Nothing Sacred, the second book by Calgary writer, Lori Hahnel.

The little pools of water on the windowsill smelled like wet dust. I'd watch the stars, look out at the diamonds glinting on the snow under the streetlights by the tracks. I watched cars, trains, the few people out on the street, maybe a dog nosing around in the alley. Looking out the window was the only thing I could do, the only safe thing, anyway. (Pg. 147)

Nothing Sacred is the second book by Calgary writer, Lori Hahnel. In this collection, she brings to life experiences that have significantly altered the lives of the characters. From losing that one crush/or love through life circumstances or death, to dealing with the attempted suicide of a child, Lori Hahnel has created characters the reader can connect and sympathize with.

"Bells and Whistles," opens with a little girl staring out the window. At such a young age she has already dealt with the death of her father, her now single mother who feels that she has the right to go out at night and leave her child alone, and then the unexpected death of a classmate. All by the time she is 10 years old.

All the stories in this collection are like little snapshots viewed through a window. Every word holds significant meaning and has been well thought out. Even as we go "Across the Universe" with Maggie, we see no more or no less than we need to.

Late again. It seems like I'm late for everything. Not little things like arriving on time, I'm always on time. But the big stuff – I'm always late for that. Too late for sixties music. Too late to get a real career. Too late to have a family. Here I am, sleep-deprived, sitting in a bus depot in Thunder Bay, too late for the twenty-fifth anniversary of John Lennon's death. (Pg. 100)

But it's about more than just being late. Along the way, we follow Maggie's reminiscing over the day John Lennon was killed and the more recent loss of a love.

Brian, this is your fault. I wouldn't be in this stupid bus depot by myself in the middle of the night if you hadn't left me. (Pg. 100)

Many can relate to our life not working out exactly the way we planned. One small event, tragic or beautiful, will forever change how we view ourselves, those around us and the world. Imagine you learned at twenty that the woman you believed was your mother, was actually your aunt and that your biological mother killed herself just shortly after your birth. Or, what if you were the woman that raised your sister's child as your own? Like Alice in "Rain in December," who has travelled to Vancouver to see her daughter/niece, Rosie. Alice has no idea what Rosie – who has hardly spoken to her since she learned the truth – will think of this unannounced visit. Will she send her away or welcome her with open arms?

Love is a gamble, I keep telling myself. A risk. There's always the potential for rejection, for pain, when you love somebody. (Pg. 56)

It's hard to pick one favourite story from this collection. Each struck me in a different way, every one spoke to me in a unique voice. However, if I had to choose one story that summed up the ever-changing world, that encompassed what this entire collection was about, it would have to be "We Had Faces Then."

This story alone shows the every changing world in all it's true rawness. When we were children we feared little, there was little concern about locking your doors at night. A child was hardly warned about talking to strangers. We could walk through dark alleys without fear. If there were enemies to be wary of, we knew who they were.

They had faces then.

The reality of most urban downtown libraries is that, more than ever, they are refuges for those who have nowhere else to go. Libraries have always been havens for the homeless, drunks, the mentally ill, the junkies, the plain old eccentric, the lonely. (Pg. 41)

At the same time, we are impacted by those around us. An overbearing mother who makes you feel as though the path you have chosen is unacceptable or inadequate. Friends, lovers, brief encounters with strangers, co-workers all work to shape and change us.

Sometimes I wonder, am I the sum of my interests, the sum of the tangents I go off on? Do they define me as much as I define them? Sometimes it seems like I don't have any choice in the matter. (Pg. 38)

I would encourage anyone who has not picked up this collection to do so and revel in the memories. Peer through all 21 near perfect windows. Let yourself be taken back. Allow yourself to be sad, or angry, or happy. Nothing Sacred has it all.