Jacques by Tanya Ravenswater

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“My king and queen were dead. I was just a helpless little boy, stripped of everything, even his mother tongue.”

Lovely read. I was heartsick in the beginning for the little guy who loses so much and is forced to just get over it. Worse, he is stuck with distantly cold guardians. The moment he is rushed to pick just a few things of his entire life to that point out of his home had me gutted. He will never again feel as welcome with the Clarks as he did in his home with his affectionate parents.
“My king and queen were dead. I was just a helpless little boy, stripped of everything, even his mother tongue.”
Orphan not just of his parents, but his homeland. That was one of the most beautiful lines.

It seems his nature sets him up to take a lot of hits over the years and losses collect. I think about his friendship with another boy and how immediately his sexuality comes into question. I always felt sorry for men that are robbed of the easy comfort allotted to women in relationships with other males. No one blinks an eye at the closeness of females usually (though it isn’t always the case, certainly homophobia exists here too if a gay girl is friends with a straight girl they get flack too) just more so with males. Every country is different- and MACHO means something else in England (or anywhere else) than it does in France.
Jacques IS ‘someone with a touch more storm in the soul.’ He is a gorgeous character. He is the sort of person that internalizes, that dives past the surface and needs to understand life. Though he becomes one of the Clarks, he has always felt anything but brotherly for Rebecca- and here is the love story.
I adore his memories of the things his papa told him. “Papa once told me that he thought people were like grapes, coming from their own ground, their terroir. The soil and climate of one region, however close to another, would give its fruits their particular qualities and subtle variations in flavour. Although when transformed into wine, the grape would travel elsewhere in the world, it would continue to speak, in its own language, of the terroir that created it.”
My God, what a gorgeous analogy about where we come from, how it’s always inside of us no matter what transplants take place.
Beautiful read.

Bonnier Publishing
Twenty7    Available now
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