This was a harrowing read for me, even though the tone is flat and simple. In the first scene an 11 year old girl watches a soldier murder everyone shThis was a harrowing read for me, even though the tone is flat and simple. In the first scene an 11 year old girl watches a soldier murder everyone she knows; after the carnage, the soldier suddenly decides to desert his post and to take the place of those he murdered, because he's tired of the war and wants to be a farmer. He coerces the surviving girl to play the part of his daughter, and as the novel progresses their relationship evolves in surprising ways.
The story reminded me a great deal of An Untouched House by Willem Frederik Hermans, for the way it shows how incessant violence warps and shatters any kind of natural human feeling. Unlike Hilbig's novel, though, this story focuses on a child's perceptions of war, which made the story all the more disturbing to me.
The writing is very flat. It mimics the passing musings of a child playing with her dolls, or worrying about what to wear on any given day, or what the rules of decorum are for a proper 11 year old girl...only the events witnessed by this child are horrific.
There is a level of abstraction to the story that took some getting used to. It's a fictional war held in a fictional valley. Somehow this abstraction didn't distance me from the human happenings, though. Instead, it felt like an appropriate tone to remind me of how war brings with it the relentless, relentlessly casual, and nearly abstract murder of others. The detached tone felt right, in that people in war will detach from horrific events as a way to cope....more
The first story, "Fly Already," was exquisite perfection.
The second story, "One Gram Short," was amusing and delightful. It would make a good Coen BrThe first story, "Fly Already," was exquisite perfection.
The second story, "One Gram Short," was amusing and delightful. It would make a good Coen Brothers movie.
The stories that followed these first two, though, were each like a little jab to my soul. I kept reading but I wish I hadn't, and now that I've come to the end, I feel wounded and unhappy, and the images and feelings left in my head from these stories feel like little bruises....more
This novel is consistently well-written and imaginative but there was something missing for me. I think the missing something was “humanity.” Even an This novel is consistently well-written and imaginative but there was something missing for me. I think the missing something was “humanity.” Even an allegory, or maybe especially and allegory, needs to keep a connection with human feeling. I’m trying to think of an example now of what I mean and what came to mind was the story of Boxer the horse in Animal Farm. Every time I get to Boxer’s death in Animal Farm, I cry. An allegorical story doesn’t need to make me cry, but I guess I do want the allegory to work not just on a symbolic level, but also on a felt level. The author’s decision here to make the child protagonists devoid of emotion—they don’t even seem to feel physical pain appropriately—left me distanced from the story, and disinterested in its allegorical implications....more
It kept my attention. It reminded me of how simple a book can be if it's meticulously paced. I didn't care for the psychological explanations offered It kept my attention. It reminded me of how simple a book can be if it's meticulously paced. I didn't care for the psychological explanations offered by the author to explain the psychokiller's proclivities...in a thriller like this one, psychokillers are gonna psychokill, and that's a good enough explanation for me....more
This novel demands a level of patience to be fully appreciated. The author lingers over minor characters and their stories even when these aren't direThis novel demands a level of patience to be fully appreciated. The author lingers over minor characters and their stories even when these aren't directly significant to the main story. I would say the novel was understated to a fault, but as I persevered, the understatement magically began to feel both revelatory and heartbreaking. It's an ensemble story, told from many points of view, where even the most tangential characters get to tell their tales, and where the storytelling style itself reflects the individuality and worthiness of each human being....more
This novel is written with a supernatural attention to detail. It's as if Crummey has taken it upon himself to inhabit the interior spaces of the brotThis novel is written with a supernatural attention to detail. It's as if Crummey has taken it upon himself to inhabit the interior spaces of the brother and sister that he conjures up from his imagination. He inhabits their daily lives. He channels them onto the page for us, until I could see and feel what these characters see and feel. Never mind that the world he imagines for these two is like nowhere I could have imagined on my own--I'm there. At just this moment, I can't remember another novel I've read that so fully imagines the lives of its characters the way Crummey does here. The novel is bleak but full of beauty. It's a remarkable achievement....more
A pregnant woman answers a knock on the front door; it's a younger woman, who tells the pregnant woman that the father of her unborn child has raped hA pregnant woman answers a knock on the front door; it's a younger woman, who tells the pregnant woman that the father of her unborn child has raped her. It seems like a promisingly charged premise for a story beginning, but the novel is set in a place so clinical and abstract that reading it felt more like I was reading a case study than a novel.
I'm also reminded (once again) that I can no longer tolerate reading stories written from the point-of-view of a skeezy man, which alternating chapters are, here. I'm done with that....more
First published in 1996, this collection is every bit as contemporary-feeling and feminist as Machado, Bender, Link, except that they're also clearly First published in 1996, this collection is every bit as contemporary-feeling and feminist as Machado, Bender, Link, except that they're also clearly written by someone who has lived through the war and its aftermath. The titular story "Toddler Hunting" is the most disturbing but each of these stories managed to affect me deeply. Seek this one out--it's well worth your attention....more
A woman gets pregnant unexpectedly, just as the world careens toward a the most horrific eco-disaster you can imagine. The writing was great, the emotA woman gets pregnant unexpectedly, just as the world careens toward a the most horrific eco-disaster you can imagine. The writing was great, the emotional landscape was truthful, and I'm going to read everything Naomi Booth writes from now on.
My fondest delight, when it came to my reading experience with this book, was the birth scene. I don't think it's much of a spoiler to say there is a birth scene, since the whole book before then is the story of a ponderously pregnant woman searching for a safe place to give birth, while simultaneously coping with some seriously creepy eco-disaster action.
This birth scene, when it comes, is magnificently done. Ok, it ignores the way that every contraction, in actual birth, is a peak experience of sorts...but even without that explicit kind of veracity, the scene captures the deep-heart horrific truth about birth. It captures what it's like to have your body taken over by a primal force over which you have no control. No matter how great a woman's individual birth experience might be (or how great she happens to remember it being, later, when it's over), every laboring woman comes to understand at some point (unless she is utterly etherized), that her body is no longer hers...and that realization can be momentarily disorienting, or completely terrifying, depending on how you feel in general about experiencing a total loss of control of your body. Naomi Booth nails it.
So at the heart of this eco-horror-fiction Naomi Booth has slyly written the best metaphor for birth-terror that I've ever read.
Incredibly thorough, and yet riveting. This is classical history, in both tone and scholarship--if that means something to anyone but me. It exposes tIncredibly thorough, and yet riveting. This is classical history, in both tone and scholarship--if that means something to anyone but me. It exposes the biases of western/white-oriented narratives of this era and geographic region, but it does so while using the same tools of erudition, and scholarship, and measured-ness, and historical fact, as any history coming from an academic/scholarly tradition. It's a completely different tone from, say, a Zinn book, where I often feel like I'm being told how to feel about the facts, without being told the facts to begin with. It's not at all like Cheyenne Memories by John Stands In Timber, where the goal is to preserve a historical tradition that is/was an oral tradition. It's not a heart-wrencher like Bury My Heart at Wounded Knee: An Indian History of the American West, which is history written to be a call to action, or at least a call to atone for past wrongs.
Hämäläinen begins with a painstaking etymological discussion of the terms "Sioux" and "Lakota" and as he moves forward he continues to take the time to unthread these and other terms, exposing their hidden meanings and origins, so that we know what he's talking about every step of the way. It's a careful, deeply researched story, that at each stage continues to be thoughtful about language, where the 'facts' are presented, and 'historical truths' revealed, page after page, with an almost mathematical precision....more
Remarkable for the attempt as much as for the execution. May we all be this clear-sighted and confident about our work when we're in our eighties.Remarkable for the attempt as much as for the execution. May we all be this clear-sighted and confident about our work when we're in our eighties....more
Perfection of a kind. A musky odor emanates from every sentence, and each word seems meticulously chosen to evoke, mm, something like sanguinarian, orPerfection of a kind. A musky odor emanates from every sentence, and each word seems meticulously chosen to evoke, mm, something like sanguinarian, or even coprophilic pleasure. This is ruthless, relentless, and visionary writing. The story could well mean more than its superficial meanings, I'm open to it meaning more...something deeply feminist...something deep about the many indignities and pains suffered by any person living inside a female body...but even before I try to ruminate over any possible metaphorical meanings I am filled with admiration, with elation even, for Sarah Rose Etter, and for her clarity of vision, and for the way she dares to be this ruthless in her storytelling.
Ok, I loved it. Even though I feel a little sick.
People who have followed me a while know I have a beloved shelf for what I call ruthless books. After reading The Book of X I'm thinking I need a sub-shelf for unabashedly, bravely repulsive books, where I would give this novel a place of honor, along with recently read, much admired novels Three Plastic Rooms by Petra Hůlová, Feebleminded by Ariana Harwicz, and Ultraluminous by Katherine Faw. I can't say whether this is a trend, or whether I'm simply attracted to these wild-and-musky-female-author-breaks-every-taboo type of novel right now, but all of these novels gave me the same mixed feeling of nausea & joyful release.
If you decide to read this novel, or to read any of the others I'm mentioning here, I'd love for you to ping me with your review. Something wild unites them all....more
What a satisfying read. Nothing happens, in the most fascinating way imaginable. Just as I wrote that last sentence I remembered the feeling of watchiWhat a satisfying read. Nothing happens, in the most fascinating way imaginable. Just as I wrote that last sentence I remembered the feeling of watching My Dinner with Andre for the first time. This novel gave me a similar feeling--happy to be alive, happy to be literate, happy to have time to read and to think. It's that kind of book....more
Say, Say, Say is a huge and consequential story that is told in a very small space. The particulars contain multitudes. I was overwhelmed by the way tSay, Say, Say is a huge and consequential story that is told in a very small space. The particulars contain multitudes. I was overwhelmed by the way this slender novel completely and truthfully honors some of the most difficult relationships in our human experience. A core relationship portrayed here is between a loving husband and a wife who suffers from brain damage and no longer recognizes him. Another relationship--so common in our aging culture, and yet almost never the subject of our fiction-- is the relationship between paid caregiver and the disabled woman she cares for--the novel portrays so humanely and so completely the way a caregiver is expected to honestly care for the person in their charge...but not to care too much, because the caregiver can never forget, after all, that she's the hired help.
I'm respectful of the confidence Lila Savage exhibits here, to believe in her story, and to tell it full, and to trust that her small canvas can tell such a big, true story about the human condition.
Another aspect of the novel that I admire very much is the amount of interior monologue that Savage permits herself to write here. There are pages and pages of the caregiver's interior struggles, beautifully rendered. A caring person, but young and unsure of her role, she tries to honor the woman she has been hired to keep clean and safe, and she also tries to respect and lend support to the woman's husband, even as she is constantly worrying about whether she is overstepping her role.
I waited impatiently for another dawn, tossing and turning.
Well, no.
This book is not for me.
And maybe it's not for you, either, unless you crave senI waited impatiently for another dawn, tossing and turning.
Well, no.
This book is not for me.
And maybe it's not for you, either, unless you crave sentences that are about as tasty as burned oatmeal.
That said, if you happen to be one of those pesky readers who is sensitive to misplaced modifiers, then reading this novel will be less like eating burned oatmeal, and more eating old eggshells....more
I haven't read many plays outside of Shakespeare and Tennessee Williams and the occasional Ionesco in college French classes, and now I'm wondering whI haven't read many plays outside of Shakespeare and Tennessee Williams and the occasional Ionesco in college French classes, and now I'm wondering why. Reading The Singing Detective was a remarkable visualization-experiment. It's strange that, even though there are fewer words here to make a picture with in my mind, everything appeared much more vividly to my mind's eye than I typical novel scene does to me, even if I've never seen the television play. The layers of alternative realities that weave and wind throughout the play made this quite an experience and I'm curious now to see the play performed....more
The first third is written with such understated perfection that I thought this novel would be a best-of-year read for me. The style reminded me of thThe first third is written with such understated perfection that I thought this novel would be a best-of-year read for me. The style reminded me of the best of John Updike. Arthur Less is so much like Rabbit: deep introspection combined with endearing cluelessness. Then, though, I felt the novel devolved to the point where it became more about its own cleverness than about the deep character study of one human being and his imperfections, which is what I'd been hoping for. It became contrived. It's possible that I'm more disappointed in this novel because of its exquisite beginning than I would be if it were just a level 'pretty good' all the way through, which hardly seems fair....more
This novel slipped into my hand when I meant to be reading something else and I'm so glad it did. It creates a mood and a reality that captivated me aThis novel slipped into my hand when I meant to be reading something else and I'm so glad it did. It creates a mood and a reality that captivated me as I read. The cadence and music of the language gripped me. A very difficult kind of novel to pull off and one that I won't forget, in fact, I'm likely to turn around and read it again soon....more
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