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books, hotel world This woman, this author, this Ali Smith, she has a voice. In fact, she has five. The beautiful, sad, hilarious, deeply moving voices that resonate from five equally beautiful characters. When the spirit of Sarah, a 19-year-old chambermaid, describes her death in the opening paragraphs, I fell down that dumbwaiter and experienced her crushed bones right along with her. Her recollections of life, of words and the way they slip from our memories, of moments we take for granted because we simply don't know how to be without them, these are the thoughts of a woman ripped too soon from earth, yet unable and unwilling to move beyond it. And when her sister, Clare, sits outside the hotel where Sarah plunged to her death, staring, waiting, unable to move until one dramatic evening, I knew exactly how she got there, even though I'd never met her before. Despite the dead girl and her desperate sister, and the other three equally depressing characters -- a homeless woman with a hacking cough, a young hotel receptionist with a mysterious illness she doesn't even know she has and a soul-less journalist trying to keep herself from dying of boredom --Smith manages to captures their inner voices with the sweet lilt of honesty and hope. Stylistically, the book is a charmer. Smith plays words like a bum whipping your ass at chess in Washington Square Park. If you're not paying attention, she'll whip you into a frenzy and steal your money. But, if you're the sort willing to go along for the ride, I guarantee it's worth the price of admission. And you might remember a few things about life, and love, that make your ride here on Earth a bit more enjoyable.
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