Anne Michaels novel, Fugitive Pieces is one of the prettiest things I've ever read. You can feel the poetry of the book. The words have all been selected carefully from a silver-tray, then tasted from all angles to see if they form the lyrical sentence our author is looking for. 
 From a poetry perspective, this book is a gem. The words just flow. 
 As a story, it's not quite as good. The whole lyrical style itself takes some getting used to. Because Michaels tells the story in little unchronological snapshots, it's confusing and hard to get into. Admittedly, after you understand what's going on, then it's quite interesting. 
 The story is both interesting, painful, and redeeming. It's about a young Polish Jewish boy during WW 2. A young boy whose family is murdered, and village is wiped out. He's saved by a Greek Geologist named Athos, and lives with him on a Greek Island for many years, until the two of them move to Toronto. 
 Story-wise, this book was too heavily weighed down by the words. One of my favourite authors, Shannan Hale, talks regularly about how she finds herself cutting sentences, pages, and even characters from her books. By slimming down, she can find the true heart of the book and work from there. Ernest Hemingway is another great example. His minimalist writing tells a story directly, and to the point. 
 Michaels writing is good, but in my opinion (and others will differ,) I thought that this book could have benefited from, well, less. All of the carefully crafted sentences began to lose their punch when they were all so fancy and poem-like. After over a hundred pages of the showy writing, it stopped having any effect except distraction for me. 
 Still, Michaels is undeniably talented. Her style just isn't something that I, personally, can read a lot of.