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Want
Delphine Almquist and her husband Hugo are living the hobby farm life of her dreams on the Canadian Prairies, far from the world of climate change concerns and global conflict. The only thing missing is a spectacular new kitchen, a tiny bistro to call their own. When she accidentally orders one online, her attempts to remedy the situation threaten her marriage to Hugo. The pressure explodes when her brother Paul arrives with end-of-the-world paranoia and plans to save the whole family on his hidden rustic homestead. As Del's comfortable little world falls apart, she, Paul, and Hugo must work through layers of family conflict to reveal the secret that has entangled her family for generations.
Funny and crisp, Want is the brilliantly relatable story of a woman who has to choose between the lifestyle she has always craved and the one that just may mean her family's survival. Barbara Langhorst's Want will keep you laughing and guessing until the end.
Funny and crisp, Want is the brilliantly relatable story of a woman who has to choose between the lifestyle she has always craved and the one that just may mean her family's survival. Barbara Langhorst's Want will keep you laughing and guessing until the end.
300 pages, Paperback
First published October 15, 2018
5 people are currently reading
29 people want to read
About the author
Barbara Langhorst
3 books19 followersBarbara Langhorst's first book, Restless White Fields (2012), won Poetry Book of the Year Awards in Alberta and Saskatchewan. Her debut novel, Want (2018), was shortlisted for the Regina Public Library Book of the Year. Her second novel, The Winter-Blooming Tree, was released in Oct. 2021. After teaching at St. Peter's College in Muenster, SK for nearly 20 years, she and her husband have relocated to a townhouse with a tiny perfect kitchen in Edmonton, AB.
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Displaying 1 - 10 of 10 reviews
February 8, 2019
The back cover copy says, “Sometimes it feels as if the world has to end before you get a new kitchen.” And I think this gets at the humour and realism of the book. The characters are unique and - you’ve never read Canadian fiction like this. A picture is painted of this family living on a hobby farm in indelible brushstrokes.
March 22, 2019
I loved this quirky novel! I love that it’s set in an area I know so well. I also love that even if you don’t know the area, you will know one just like it. Just as you probably know a couple like Delphine and Hugo. You may even have struggled with the emotional challenges that faced Delphine. Odds are, you probably didn’t accidentally order a DIY kitchen.
It seems unusual that a story about mental illness and the certainty of impending climate disaster had me laughing as much as it had me taking stock of myself and my role in the world, but that’s what Barbara Langhorst’s “Want” did.
It seems unusual that a story about mental illness and the certainty of impending climate disaster had me laughing as much as it had me taking stock of myself and my role in the world, but that’s what Barbara Langhorst’s “Want” did.
November 22, 2018
I was asked to write a blurb for this book and was happy to do so. “This timely novel turns corners unexpectedly, like most renovations. An engaging and humorous family portrait of life on the Canadian Prairies where past collides with present and “want” leads to what really matters. Brimming with energy—from the everyday to the otherworldly—a story packed with feeling and light.” Catherine Graham
April 12, 2021
Originally reviewed by Kat Cameron for Prairie Fire's Book Reviews Program. prairiefire.ca
It’s an odd experience, reading a novel about apocalyptic fears during a pandemic. A few chapters into Want, the debut novel by Saskatchewan writer Barbara Langhorst, the narrator’s brother launches into an impassioned rant about the dangers of the current world. “‘All types of things you need to stock up on—NOW—we have to be ready,’” Paul said. “‘No telling when we might have a solar flare or a pandemic or some terror attack. . . . The signs, signs everywhere. Just need to read ‘em’” (43). Want was published in 2018, and the words are eerily prescient in the time of COVID-19.
The brother, Paul, is suffering from one of his recurring episodes of manic behaviour and this isn’t the only source of stress for the first-person narrator, Delphine. She has just ordered an expensive kitchen renovation without discussing the purchase with her husband, she suffers from angina, and she is haunted by the voice of her dead friend, the monk Fr. Lewis, a spiritual mentor who advises her to “just stop looking at the pictures” (177). Fr. Lewis’s warning is about the enticing glamour of home renovation, but other obstacles block Delphine from finding peace. As her co-worker reminds her, “‘Remember what it means to want, to be found wanting’” (240).
In Want, Langhorst explores what it means to want, not only in terms of material possessions, such as a new kitchen, but also family connections. Delphine and her siblings, Emma and Paul, spend much of the novel reminiscing about their past: their grandparents, who homesteaded in northern Saskatchewan, and their mother, who died when Delphine was nineteen. Paul wants the family to escape civilization and resettle on the grandparents’ land; Delphine waffles between staying in a home she loves, despite its flaws, or agreeing to Paul’s vision of the family reunited, living on a back-to-the-land compound.
Paul’s visions of escape may be a side effect of his mental illness. Paul was diagnosed with bipolar disorder as a young man, but his sister only discovers this secret years later. Recurring episodes have left her trying to understand her brother’s symptoms, which she researches on the internet: “Patients exhibit an inflated ego during manic or hypomanic phases. Racing thoughts cause pressured speech, rhyming, possibly confusion, and some patients may have auditory or visual hallucinations. Grand schemes, impulsiveness and spending sprees are common. Patients may be secretive and sleep less than usual. Stress seems to be a trigger” (87).
When Paul shows up at Delphine and Hugo’s house, apparently in the throes of another breakdown, his apocalyptic anxieties trigger Delphine’s own emotional and spiritual distress.
The cover illustration shows a one-story house nestled among a stand of trees, and Langhorst plays with many versions of the word home and what home means in the modern world. The novel articulates how a person’s need for security may translate into the desire for the perfectly designed space, whether it was Delphine’s mother, who kept the house “stylish and chic, immaculate” (11), or Delphine, who honours her husband’s Swedish heritage by decorating a room with “serene gray-green” walls and “calm black-and-white prints of Swedish sailing ships that leaned on the picture rail, markers of a simpler time” (45). The serene simplicity of the room contrasts with Delphine’s chaotic fears and jumbled thoughts. Langhorst excels at portraying beautiful rooms: Delphine’s remodeled bistro kitchen has an island panelled in “rich walnut” and “a backsplash of pale marble tiles rippled in a herringbone pattern” (34); the house Paul wants to buy has walls painted in “a soothing pale colour” and “wide plank floors [that] shone white in the sun” (107).
Want is a challenging read. Spending time inside Delphine’s head can be exhausting, especially when her anxieties overwhelm her. The dialogue occasionally seems forced, resembling a philosophical discussion rather than authentic conversation. When Delphine tells Nasrin, her doctor, about her own symptoms, Nasrin responds, “‘You might be suffering from what Buddhists would call attachment. Or perhaps you are in the throes of a metamorphosis. But remember Kafka!’” (135). Would a physician really have the time for a discussion about Buddhism and Kafka?
These minor flaws do not detract from the serious issues that the novel raises. Ultimately, what does it mean to want? Want explores what we all desire: a place to belong.
It’s an odd experience, reading a novel about apocalyptic fears during a pandemic. A few chapters into Want, the debut novel by Saskatchewan writer Barbara Langhorst, the narrator’s brother launches into an impassioned rant about the dangers of the current world. “‘All types of things you need to stock up on—NOW—we have to be ready,’” Paul said. “‘No telling when we might have a solar flare or a pandemic or some terror attack. . . . The signs, signs everywhere. Just need to read ‘em’” (43). Want was published in 2018, and the words are eerily prescient in the time of COVID-19.
The brother, Paul, is suffering from one of his recurring episodes of manic behaviour and this isn’t the only source of stress for the first-person narrator, Delphine. She has just ordered an expensive kitchen renovation without discussing the purchase with her husband, she suffers from angina, and she is haunted by the voice of her dead friend, the monk Fr. Lewis, a spiritual mentor who advises her to “just stop looking at the pictures” (177). Fr. Lewis’s warning is about the enticing glamour of home renovation, but other obstacles block Delphine from finding peace. As her co-worker reminds her, “‘Remember what it means to want, to be found wanting’” (240).
In Want, Langhorst explores what it means to want, not only in terms of material possessions, such as a new kitchen, but also family connections. Delphine and her siblings, Emma and Paul, spend much of the novel reminiscing about their past: their grandparents, who homesteaded in northern Saskatchewan, and their mother, who died when Delphine was nineteen. Paul wants the family to escape civilization and resettle on the grandparents’ land; Delphine waffles between staying in a home she loves, despite its flaws, or agreeing to Paul’s vision of the family reunited, living on a back-to-the-land compound.
Paul’s visions of escape may be a side effect of his mental illness. Paul was diagnosed with bipolar disorder as a young man, but his sister only discovers this secret years later. Recurring episodes have left her trying to understand her brother’s symptoms, which she researches on the internet: “Patients exhibit an inflated ego during manic or hypomanic phases. Racing thoughts cause pressured speech, rhyming, possibly confusion, and some patients may have auditory or visual hallucinations. Grand schemes, impulsiveness and spending sprees are common. Patients may be secretive and sleep less than usual. Stress seems to be a trigger” (87).
When Paul shows up at Delphine and Hugo’s house, apparently in the throes of another breakdown, his apocalyptic anxieties trigger Delphine’s own emotional and spiritual distress.
The cover illustration shows a one-story house nestled among a stand of trees, and Langhorst plays with many versions of the word home and what home means in the modern world. The novel articulates how a person’s need for security may translate into the desire for the perfectly designed space, whether it was Delphine’s mother, who kept the house “stylish and chic, immaculate” (11), or Delphine, who honours her husband’s Swedish heritage by decorating a room with “serene gray-green” walls and “calm black-and-white prints of Swedish sailing ships that leaned on the picture rail, markers of a simpler time” (45). The serene simplicity of the room contrasts with Delphine’s chaotic fears and jumbled thoughts. Langhorst excels at portraying beautiful rooms: Delphine’s remodeled bistro kitchen has an island panelled in “rich walnut” and “a backsplash of pale marble tiles rippled in a herringbone pattern” (34); the house Paul wants to buy has walls painted in “a soothing pale colour” and “wide plank floors [that] shone white in the sun” (107).
Want is a challenging read. Spending time inside Delphine’s head can be exhausting, especially when her anxieties overwhelm her. The dialogue occasionally seems forced, resembling a philosophical discussion rather than authentic conversation. When Delphine tells Nasrin, her doctor, about her own symptoms, Nasrin responds, “‘You might be suffering from what Buddhists would call attachment. Or perhaps you are in the throes of a metamorphosis. But remember Kafka!’” (135). Would a physician really have the time for a discussion about Buddhism and Kafka?
These minor flaws do not detract from the serious issues that the novel raises. Ultimately, what does it mean to want? Want explores what we all desire: a place to belong.
January 7, 2020
I just finished reading Want by Barbara Langhorst. I very much liked Delphine and the struggle portrayed in the family of mental illness and the loss of a mother far too soon. I liked the themes re: wanting and having and those of mysticism. I enjoyed the sense of humour throughout and I really liked the character, Paul…both supportive and at times a foil to Delphine herself, the woman who was always supposed to be in control. I liked how the author played with the theme of the lie about the kitchen (and the desire to buy things that really represent something lacking in our lives) and how it played out through Delphine’s breakdown. Well done.
The author's references to what was going on at various historical time periods throughout the book anchored the novel very well. Thanks for a great read.
The author's references to what was going on at various historical time periods throughout the book anchored the novel very well. Thanks for a great read.
February 24, 2024
This novel is a nice balance of comedy and drama, offering unexpected twists disguised as a kitchen renovation. The descriptions of the places are beautifully vivid. I feel like I have seen Paul's hidden homestead and have been in Delphine's kitchen (all the versions of it). As someone who has experienced familial mental illness firsthand, I thought this novel was fair in the depiction of the frustration that comes along with it for both the family/carer and the one affected by the disorder. Delphine's voice is delightfully quirky and it shines through in this piece.
March 27, 2019
I loved this book. I could still hear Delphine's voice in my head for weeks after I finished it. I felt as if I had sat down for a coffee with a new friend and she had breathlessly and entertainingly told me her life story all in one go – and I never wanted her to stop. She'd be the sort of friend who would want to hear my life story too but I'd much rather that she carried on telling me hers.
May 21, 2019
The novel is a well-written family story with the suspense of a mental illness running in the family. Paul is an interesting character. But the episode of the new kitchen reads like a melodrama, which doesn’t seem to match the age group of Delphine and her husband.
February 19, 2020
4.25. Really enjoyed this novel.
Displaying 1 - 10 of 10 reviews