In Amy Bloom's exquisite ‘I'll Be Right Here,' Colette plays a key supporting role
Amy Bloom's exquisite 'I'll Be Right Here' is a slim volume spanning close to a century. While it's tempting to label the novel a family epic, that description would fail to capture how Bloom reconstitutes 'family' on the page, or how her chapters ricochet forward and backward from decade to decade or year to year, shifting perspective not only from character to character, but from first- to third-person point of view.
These transitions, while initially dizzying, coalesce into a rhythm that feels fresh and exciting. Together they suggest that memory conflates the past, present and future, until at the end, our lives can be viewed as a richly textured tapestry of experience and recollection, threaded together by the people we've loved.
The novel opens with a tableau: Siblings Alma and Anne tend to their longtime friend, who's dying. They tenderly hold Gazala's hands in a room that 'smells like roses and orange peel.' Honey — once Anne's sister-in-law and now her wife — massages Gazala's thin feet with neroli oil. 'Anne pulls up the shade. The day is beautiful. Gazala turns her face away from the light, and Alma pulls the shade back down.' Samir 'presses his hand over his mouth so that he will not cry out at the sight of his dying sister.' Later in the novel, these five will come to be dubbed 'the Greats' by their grandchildren.
The scene is a foreshadow, and signals that the novel will compress time, dwelling on certain details or events, while allotting mere lines to other pivotal moments, or allowing them to occur offstage, in passing. At first this is disorienting, but Bloom's bold plot choices challenge and enrich.
In 1930 Paris, a young Gazala and her adopted older brother, Samir, await the return of their father from his job at a local patisserie, when they hope to sample 'cinnamon montecaos, seeping oil into the twist of paper,' or perhaps a makroud he's baked himself. In their cold, tiny apartment, Samir lays Gazala 'on top of his legs to warm us both, and then, as the light fails, our father comes home.'
The Benamars are Algerians, 'descended from superior Muslims and Christians both, and a rabbi,' their father, M., tells them. He delights in tall tales of a Barbary lion that has escaped Northern Africa and now roams the streets of Paris. Years elapse in the course of a few pages, and it's 1942 in Nazi-occupied France. One night before bed, M. Benamar shreds the silk lining from a pair of worn gabardine pants to craft a belt for his daughter. Then,'he lies down on the big mattress he shares with Samir and turns his face to the wall.' He never awakens.
Now orphans — we don't know exactly how old they are — the pair must conceal that they are on their own. Samir lines up a job where their father worked, while the owner's wife finds Gazala a position as companion to a renowned writer, offering her 'up to Mme. Colette like a canape.' Colette (yes, that one!) suffers from arthritis, and is mostly bedridden. She hides her Jewish husband upstairs, while entertaining guests below. Gazala observes that her benefactor's 'eyes are slanted under the folds of her brows, kohl-rimmed cat's eyes in a dead-white face, powder in every fold and crack.'
Soon, the sister and brother's paths diverge, and Gazala makes her way to New York City.
It's 1947. Through Colette, Gazala has found work at a shop on Second Avenue, and sleeps in the storeroom above. Enter Anne and Alma Cohen, teenage sisters who take an instant liking to Gazala and her French accent; in short order, they've embraced her as a third sibling. Months later, there is a knock on the bakery door, and it's Samir, returned from abroad, in search of Gazala. For the rest of their lives, the nonblood-related siblings will conceal that they are lovers.
Going forward, the plot zigs and zags, dipping in and out of each character's life. It's 2010 in Poughkeepsie, N.Y., where Samir and Gazala have lived together in a rambling old house for decades, maintaining appearances by keeping separate bedrooms. They are old, and Samir 'brushes her silver hair away from his lips.' She tells him she doesn't mind that he smells of the shallots in their garden.
It's 1968, and Anne, by now a wife, mother and lawyer, has fallen in love with her husband Richard's sister, Honey. We glimpse their first sexual encounter after years of simmering emotions. Alma — who receives minimal attention from her author — marries a bighearted chicken farmer named Izzy, and later grieves the early loss of her husband, and the absence of children.
As they grow older, the circle consisting of Gazala, Samir, Anne, Alma and Honey will grow to include Lily, Anne's daughter, and eventually Lily's daughter, Harry. Gazala and Samir take in Bea, whose parents were killed in a car accident; she becomes the daughter they never had. This bespoke family will support each of its members through all that is to come.
It's 2015 in Poughkeepsie, and Gazala's gauzy figures float through her fading consciousness. Beneath the tree outside her window — 'huge and flaming gold' — sits her father, reading the paper. 'Madame pours mint tea into the red glasses.' The other Greats are gathered round. One last memory, the most cherished of all: It's 1984 and Gazala and Samir are in their 50s. He proposes a vacation in Oaxaca. 'Let's go as we are,' he whispers. At their hotel, 'they sit beneath the arches, admiring the yellow sun, the blue sky, the green leaves on the trees, all as bright as a children's drawing.' There, they freely express their love for each other.
As Bloom has demonstrated throughout her stellar literary career, which began in 1993 with the publication of her acclaimed story collection, 'Come to Me,' she can train her eye on any person, place or object and render it sublime. Her prose is so finely wrought it shimmers. Again and again she has returned to love as her primary subject, each time finding new depth and dimension, requiring us to put aside our expectations and go where the pages take us. As readers, we're in the most adept of hands.
Haber is a writer, editor and publishing strategist. She was director of Oprah's Book Club and books editor for O, the Oprah Magazine.
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Los Angeles Times
9 hours ago
- Los Angeles Times
In Amy Bloom's exquisite ‘I'll Be Right Here,' Colette plays a key supporting role
Amy Bloom's exquisite 'I'll Be Right Here' is a slim volume spanning close to a century. While it's tempting to label the novel a family epic, that description would fail to capture how Bloom reconstitutes 'family' on the page, or how her chapters ricochet forward and backward from decade to decade or year to year, shifting perspective not only from character to character, but from first- to third-person point of view. These transitions, while initially dizzying, coalesce into a rhythm that feels fresh and exciting. Together they suggest that memory conflates the past, present and future, until at the end, our lives can be viewed as a richly textured tapestry of experience and recollection, threaded together by the people we've loved. The novel opens with a tableau: Siblings Alma and Anne tend to their longtime friend, who's dying. They tenderly hold Gazala's hands in a room that 'smells like roses and orange peel.' Honey — once Anne's sister-in-law and now her wife — massages Gazala's thin feet with neroli oil. 'Anne pulls up the shade. The day is beautiful. Gazala turns her face away from the light, and Alma pulls the shade back down.' Samir 'presses his hand over his mouth so that he will not cry out at the sight of his dying sister.' Later in the novel, these five will come to be dubbed 'the Greats' by their grandchildren. The scene is a foreshadow, and signals that the novel will compress time, dwelling on certain details or events, while allotting mere lines to other pivotal moments, or allowing them to occur offstage, in passing. At first this is disorienting, but Bloom's bold plot choices challenge and enrich. In 1930 Paris, a young Gazala and her adopted older brother, Samir, await the return of their father from his job at a local patisserie, when they hope to sample 'cinnamon montecaos, seeping oil into the twist of paper,' or perhaps a makroud he's baked himself. In their cold, tiny apartment, Samir lays Gazala 'on top of his legs to warm us both, and then, as the light fails, our father comes home.' The Benamars are Algerians, 'descended from superior Muslims and Christians both, and a rabbi,' their father, M., tells them. He delights in tall tales of a Barbary lion that has escaped Northern Africa and now roams the streets of Paris. Years elapse in the course of a few pages, and it's 1942 in Nazi-occupied France. One night before bed, M. Benamar shreds the silk lining from a pair of worn gabardine pants to craft a belt for his daughter. Then,'he lies down on the big mattress he shares with Samir and turns his face to the wall.' He never awakens. Now orphans — we don't know exactly how old they are — the pair must conceal that they are on their own. Samir lines up a job where their father worked, while the owner's wife finds Gazala a position as companion to a renowned writer, offering her 'up to Mme. Colette like a canape.' Colette (yes, that one!) suffers from arthritis, and is mostly bedridden. She hides her Jewish husband upstairs, while entertaining guests below. Gazala observes that her benefactor's 'eyes are slanted under the folds of her brows, kohl-rimmed cat's eyes in a dead-white face, powder in every fold and crack.' Soon, the sister and brother's paths diverge, and Gazala makes her way to New York City. It's 1947. Through Colette, Gazala has found work at a shop on Second Avenue, and sleeps in the storeroom above. Enter Anne and Alma Cohen, teenage sisters who take an instant liking to Gazala and her French accent; in short order, they've embraced her as a third sibling. Months later, there is a knock on the bakery door, and it's Samir, returned from abroad, in search of Gazala. For the rest of their lives, the nonblood-related siblings will conceal that they are lovers. Going forward, the plot zigs and zags, dipping in and out of each character's life. It's 2010 in Poughkeepsie, N.Y., where Samir and Gazala have lived together in a rambling old house for decades, maintaining appearances by keeping separate bedrooms. They are old, and Samir 'brushes her silver hair away from his lips.' She tells him she doesn't mind that he smells of the shallots in their garden. It's 1968, and Anne, by now a wife, mother and lawyer, has fallen in love with her husband Richard's sister, Honey. We glimpse their first sexual encounter after years of simmering emotions. Alma — who receives minimal attention from her author — marries a bighearted chicken farmer named Izzy, and later grieves the early loss of her husband, and the absence of children. As they grow older, the circle consisting of Gazala, Samir, Anne, Alma and Honey will grow to include Lily, Anne's daughter, and eventually Lily's daughter, Harry. Gazala and Samir take in Bea, whose parents were killed in a car accident; she becomes the daughter they never had. This bespoke family will support each of its members through all that is to come. It's 2015 in Poughkeepsie, and Gazala's gauzy figures float through her fading consciousness. Beneath the tree outside her window — 'huge and flaming gold' — sits her father, reading the paper. 'Madame pours mint tea into the red glasses.' The other Greats are gathered round. One last memory, the most cherished of all: It's 1984 and Gazala and Samir are in their 50s. He proposes a vacation in Oaxaca. 'Let's go as we are,' he whispers. At their hotel, 'they sit beneath the arches, admiring the yellow sun, the blue sky, the green leaves on the trees, all as bright as a children's drawing.' There, they freely express their love for each other. As Bloom has demonstrated throughout her stellar literary career, which began in 1993 with the publication of her acclaimed story collection, 'Come to Me,' she can train her eye on any person, place or object and render it sublime. Her prose is so finely wrought it shimmers. Again and again she has returned to love as her primary subject, each time finding new depth and dimension, requiring us to put aside our expectations and go where the pages take us. As readers, we're in the most adept of hands. Haber is a writer, editor and publishing strategist. She was director of Oprah's Book Club and books editor for O, the Oprah Magazine.
Boston Globe
2 days ago
- Boston Globe
Amy Bloom's new novel brims with love, war, and complexity
Get Starting Point A guide through the most important stories of the morning, delivered Monday through Friday. Enter Email Sign Up We begin with a brief prologue set in the unspecified present: a woman named Gazala is dying at home, tended to by three women, Anne, Alma, and Honey, and a man, Samir, who is identified as her brother. Soon, we flash back to Paris in 1930. There, Gazala's first person, present-tense narrative plunges us into a vividly evocative and propulsive story. Her wry reflections on and spirited accounts of life in Paris from 1930 to 1945 and then New York City, where she travels with forged papers and finds a job in a bakery comprise the strongest chunk of the novel. Advertisement This is due in large part to Gazala's irresistible voice, the vibrant setting, the suspense inherent to a tale of occupied Paris and WWII Europe, and the eccentric characters, who range from the French writer Colette, described by Gazala in a chapter title as 'Famous Writer, Anti-Semite, Beloved Friend,' to the jeweler for the Duchess of Windsor. Gazala is gritty, resourceful, hilarious: an irresistible artistic creation. Her life is outlandish and outrageous — she commits multiple murders, without training gives great massages to illustrious people, learns how to seduce men and perform sexually from experienced older women — but she always feels real. Spending time in her mind and in her milieu is an adventure, continually surprising, and consistently rewarding. Advertisement When a new section begins with Samir's arrival in New York City in 1947, however, the style and the tonal acuity change. The narrative voice switches, for the most part, to third person, and the reader feels the loss. The missing intimacy of Gazala's narrative and the crackling idiosyncrasy of her voice leave a palpable void. Related : Samir and Gazala, now lovers and life partners, end up settling down in Poughkeepsie, N.Y., where Samir works his way up in a department store, achieving financial success and domestic happiness with his sister/lover. And from this point, the chapters move back and forth in time with no rhyme or reason, jumping from Poughkeepsie to Mexico to New Jersey, from 2015 to 1968 to 1984, as characters pile up and depth is sacrificed for collage. The novel gains little by its leaps backward and forward and sideways in time and space, which feel arbitrary and often interrupt momentum, disrupt flow, and muddle things for the reader. Even a writer as adept as Bloom at characterizing someone with an arresting image —'Madame shakes off a couple of shawls like an old warhorse hearing the bells of battle' — or telling life summary — 'David will go to Brooklyn College and eventually become an accountant in New Jersey with a fat, kind wife and no one will feel sorry for him' — can't overcome the effect of superficiality. Advertisement Thus while sections of the book enchant, moments and lines provoke laughter, knowing nods, or a delighted smile, the overall effect deflates our hopes. 'I'll Be Right Here' reads more like a collection of vivid sketches, haphazardly bundled, than a finely wrought and fully realized novel. The parts are greater than the whole, the ingredients tastier than the dish. Related : But how succulent, spicy, and nourishing Bloom's ingredients can be! At one point Gazala remarks: 'A good storyteller has memories and caraway seeds and cinnamon sticks and candied dates in his pocket.' Bloom's eccentric perspectives, unusual characters, and warm-hearted approach make her storytelling alluring just as the story itself is often incomplete and confusing. Bloom's virtues and values are evident on every page of this endearing if ultimately somewhat unsatisfying book. The novel makes important points about immigration, acceptance of difference, open-mindedness to alternative ways of living and loving, and the preciousness and wisdom of our elders in a refreshingly non-didactic way. A wryly humorous, emotionally generous, and expansively embracing author, Bloom approaches each of her characters with empathy, insight, and sensitivity. She remains acutely aware of the absurdities of life, its harrowing hardships, and its fragile, fleeting joys. What is perdurable, what binds us together over space and time, countries and continents, in war and in peace, are found family, good humor, and love. Advertisement I'LL BE RIGHT HERE By Amy Bloom Random House, 272 pages, $28 Priscilla Gilman is a former professor of English literature at Yale University and Vassar College and the author of ' ' and ' .'
Yahoo
12-06-2025
- Yahoo
'Adults' star Malik Elassal: Add Canadian comedian, actor and writer to the list of comedy sensations
For decades, comedy has been considered one of Canada's greatest exports, including notable talents like Eugene Levy, Martin Short, Catherine O'Hara and the late John Candy. Adding to that legacy is Malik Elassal, who stars in the popular new show Adults (on Disney+ in Canada, Hulu in the U.S.), created by Ben Kronengold and Rebecca Shaw (The Tonight Show Starring Jimmy Fallon). Making the move from Alberta to the U.S., incredibly skilled in hysterical stand-up comedy, with moments from his sets going viral, Elassal is set to be another of one Canada's comedy legends. And what makes Adults a great introduction for many is that the show really showcases each cast member's unique comedy strengths. "We all come from these different places, but when we come together there's something between all of us," Elassal told Yahoo Canada. "Amita [Rao] is an improviser. Lucy [Freyer] was an actor in Juilliard. But then when we come together, we sort of have our our own rhythm that's outside of improv training, outside of more standard actors training, or outside of TikTok." In Aults, a group of friends move in together in Samir's (Malik Elassal) childhood home in New York. Samir is trying, at least sometimes, to take on more responsibility in life, Billie (Lucy Freyer) is pursuing a career in journalism, Anton (Owen Thiele) was Samir's college roommate who can be friends with anyone. Issa (Amita Rao) is taking on odd jobs with her infectious personality, and she's dating Paul Baker (Jack Innanen), who she convinces Samir to let move in with the rest of the group. The show in intensely funny in a way that leans into absurdity at times, awkwardness at others, and navigates different elements and styles of comedy effortlessly, largely thanks to this impressive cast. With Elassal already receiving positive feedback from the show, he's really just happy to make people smile and laugh. "It feels like it falls in line with my love language, to give somebody this big thing and for them to enjoy it," he said. As Elassal described, a lot of the brilliant on-screen chemistry we see between this group of friends in Adults was formed by the natural evolution of the group's off-screen dynamic. "[When] we started hanging out and started being on set, you just realize that somebody has been on the same version of the internet as you," Elassal said about his friendship with fellow Canadian Jack Innanen. "We just really became close." With Samir having a particularly close frienship with Billie in the show, Elassal added that even just taking walks with Lucy Freyer and ribbing each other in real life informed what we see on-screen. Additionally, Kronengold and Shaw looked to the actors to inform their scripts. "We started to find out that things from our lives would end up in the script," Elassal said. "So we'd have takes where we got to add things in there, and that was always really fun." A particularly hysterical moment in the show is Episode 6, where Billie is hosting her boyfriend, and her former high school teacher, played by Charlie Cox, for dinner. As Billie tries to get all of her roommates in line with the hopes of a more sophisticated evening, things quickly take an unexpected and hysterical turn when Cox's character shows up high on a "pony dose" of ketamine, and Paul Baker's friend, who happens to be Julia Fox (who's playing herself), comes over for the meal. "We were block shooting the whole series, so every episode was over the span of like four or five days, or so. And usually we have different locations and we were going to different places, but ... for like four or five days in a row we're just in this house, basically," Elassal explained about that epiosde. "And I'm in this giant suit looking ridiculous and running around, and it just felt like a day that never ended." "It really kind of led into this dreary, looming feeling that the episode has. ... Charlie would show up, and then me and Charlie would have scenes together at like 2:00 a.m., after everybody went home, and he was kissing me on the forehead. It's all just very surreal. ... And then one day they're like, 'Oh, hey, Julia Fox is coming today.' ... You see my reaction to Julia Fox being on my couch in the episode, ... it's basically just how I felt." In terms of what drew Elassal to a career in comedy, there wasn't necessarily a specific "breakthrough" moment, but he can identify the time that he understood the feeling of being able to make someone laugh. "I remember a moment watching my older cousin, when I was younger, stand up and do an impression of his dad to all of the aunts and uncles, ... and him making them all laugh so hard," Elassal said. "And I was like, 'Oh, this is the coolest person I've ever seen.'" "I think something from that time might have gotten in my head of like, that's a real, worthwhile thing to do in your life, is to be able to make a group of people that happy." While a Canadian making the move to the U.S. always feels like a big professional step, it was a "culture shock" for Calgary-raised Elassal. "It's insane. It's such a culture shock," Elassal said. "You're going to the airport in America and they have signs up like, hey please don't bring your gun on the plane. And I'm like, are people doing that? Like, accidentally?" "I mean, there's a craziness to America. And it's fun to live there. But whenever I come back to Canada, I still feel at home, even though New York is home right now." As Elassal's career progresses, from stand-up comedy to TV, and even joining projects from other famed comedians, like Pete Holmes' podcast, "You Made It Weird," we certainly can't wait to see what Elassal does next. "It's unbelievable. I'm consistently so happy to get to meet all these people that I was already such a fan of, and it's amazing to get to work with them," he said. "It's such a dream come true. ... I'm really lucky that I get to have my dreams come true."
