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my rating |
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| 1613722737
| 9781613722732
| B006RIHRD2
| 3.81
| 1,256
| Dec 30, 2011
| Dec 30, 2011
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it was ok
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None
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Notes are private!
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2
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Feb 06, 2013
not set
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Feb 06, 2013
not set
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Sep 27, 2024
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Kindle Edition
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| 1311503250
| 9781311503251
| B00JKYGZ24
| 3.84
| 498
| Jul 31, 2014
| Aug 01, 2014
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did not like it
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None
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Notes are private!
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2
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Aug 07, 2014
not set
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Aug 31, 2014
not set
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Sep 20, 2024
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ebook
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| 1571311467
| 9781571311467
| 1571311467
| 4.08
| 1,394
| Jun 10, 2002
| Aug 23, 2022
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it was ok
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Originally published in 2002 Perma Red has recently been reissued. Its bold new cover, featuring praise from Louise Erdrich, caught my attention. The
Originally published in 2002 Perma Red has recently been reissued. Its bold new cover, featuring praise from Louise Erdrich, caught my attention. The opening pages were intriguing enough but the more I read, the more puzzled I became by the story’s unfolding events. While I enjoy novels that challenge conventions, Perma Red left me bewildered by its mishandling of its central character, Louise, who is stripped of both a personality and agency. Set predominantly on the Flathead Indian Reservation in the 1940s, the novel orbits around Louise, a Native girl who, following her mother's death, is raised by her grandmother. Time and again Louise has run from the Ursuline schools, only to be taken away from her home and placed into another one. She’s seen as trouble, especially by Charlie Kicking Woman, a tribal officer who is fixated on Louise. Baptiste Yellow Knife, his younger cousin, is also determined to pursue Louise, employing tactics that frequently verge on violence, whether through physical force or preternatural means. But before I talk about what went wrong (for me) with Perma Red, here are a couple of things that I liked about it. It’s very much a vibe-driven novel, and it succeeds in establishing the harsh realities of Louise’s life. The novel’s stark atmosphere reminded me of Daniel Woodrell’s Winter’s Bone, Una Mannion’s A Crooked Tree, and A Prayer for Travelers by Ruchika Tomar (all of which center around girls living in rural or otherwise remote areas, with absent/dead parents, and have dealings with dubious men). In theory, I also appreciated the ambiguity permeating the narrative and that the characters, their motives and desires, remain somewhat inaccessible. I liked the imagery, which contributed to the novel’s evocative atmosphere and I did appreciate that the author, through Louise's experiences, sheds light on the violence faced by Indigenous women. However, my enthusiasm waned as Louise's narrative veered away from her development. Instead, it fixates on the men around her, neglecting her agency and reducing her to a vessel for their desires. Must a story exploring how women are objectified, objectify its central female character? Louise's potential for growth is stymied by the overwhelming presence and focus on the story’s male characters and of ‘what’ Louise is to each of them ( the white men appear to fetishize her, Charlie resents and desires her and Baptiste..i don’t know what the fuck is going on with that dude. He wants to ‘mark’ her as his…?). There are a couple of scenes where Louise is alone, that hold possibility, especially those scenes taking place outdoors. But these are cut short, her thoughts circling back to bloody Baptiste or the other losers. Louise’s grandmother and sister are given barely any time on the page (they have one or two lines of dialogue…) which is a pity as this novel was in dire need of some female solidarity or at least time dedicated to exploring relationships that do not hinge on the male gaze (that is underlined by the men's weird & obsessive thoughts and actions towards Louise). I could not for the life of me understand what was going on with the characters. I’m all for keeping things enigmatic, but here the characters are made almost entirely inaccessible, which isn’t great when said characters exhibit only trashy behaviors. Sure, I appreciated that the author doesn’t resort to lazy good/bad dichotomies, especially with the character of Charlie Kicking Woman, but the narrative fails to really consider just how creepy and predatory he is. Baptiste…I really thought that the narrative had established as an obstacle, a threat even, to Louise’s happiness and self-fulfilment…but turns out they are in love...? I did not get the memo. He is appalling, he is shown to be horrendous to Louise, the kind of 'love interest' I’d expect to encounter in Colleen Hoover's fiction. The narrative fails to explore just how damaged or damaging he is, making it so that he ends up being a very thinly rendered character, one who, by the end of the novel, we are meant to feel something for, but this payoff feels unearned. Louise is ping-ponged between men who are different levels of shitty, all of whom, except Baptiste, are way too old for her. And why are they fascinated by her? I can’t say. The narrative seems to reduce Louise to what these men view her as, that is an object whose only value lies in her body, in her appearance. Charlie Kicking Woman was giving me some serious Humbert Humbert vibes, and I was exhausted by just how much time he was given. The novel's conclusion attempts to grant Louise agency but falls short, redeeming unsavoury male characters without addressing the harm they've caused. Charlie’s predatory nature goes unexamined, while Baptiste's abusive behavior is unjustly romanticized. Louise's supposed love for Baptiste feels forced and undermines the narrative's earlier tension and intention. I’m meant to be happy that Louise is once more reunited with the man who has taken pleasure in tormenting and neglecting her? Sure, early on, that frisson of danger could have felt like desire, love even, to a young Louise, but later on it just made no sense. Rather than making Baptiste into a fleshed-out character, the narrative and Louise condone him just through the possibility that he has come to harm. Their love story didn’t need to be cutie-patootie or easy (i'm all for the exploration of toxic dynamics), but here I swear for the whole novel I thought of Batpsite as a one-note abusive asshole who stood in the way of Louise’s freedom…but it turns out that no, she loves him and he too loves her…(?). Maybe the characters are so inaccessible as to make them rather far-fetched. There were several instances where a character would randomly come up with a realization about someone or themselves that to me made no sense and felt very out of nowhere (like sure, whatever floats). I also was disappointed by the novel not exploring Louise’s grief or her family dynamics…it just made her character hollow. Perma Red offers glimpses of promise with its evocative atmosphere and exploration of Indigenous experiences, but its disjointed narrative, vague characterization, and its preference for the male voices ultimately diminish the impact of Louise's story. If Perma Red is on your radar, I recommend giving it a shot, despite my mostly negative review. Perhaps you'll be able to make sense of the characters and storyline in a way that I wasn't able to. Every reader's experience with a book is unique, and you might find aspects to appreciate that I overlooked. ...more |
Notes are private!
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1
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Mar 2024
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Mar 05, 2024
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Mar 01, 2024
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Paperback
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| 0008679231
| 9780008679231
| 0008679231
| 3.59
| 20,186
| Apr 21, 2017
| Mar 06, 2024
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it was ok
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i was excepting something with a bit more bite... The audiobook edition of Butter spans over 17 hours, yet its narrative could have been condensed int i was excepting something with a bit more bite... The audiobook edition of Butter spans over 17 hours, yet its narrative could have been condensed into a fraction of that time. The story feels weighed down by excessive filler content, and while its intended themes hold potential they are belabored to the point of being ham-fisted. The characters, particularly the protagonist Rika and her friend Reiko, are often made to behave moronically for seemingly no reason other than to create conflict, but these misunderstandings and instances of idiocy diminished the coherence of the narrative. The novel revolves around Rika Machida, a journalist in her 30s with a very poor work/life balance. Seeking a hit story, Rika reaches out to Manako Kajii who is currently serving time in the Tokyo Detention Centre after being convicted of the serial murders of businessmen she allegedly lured with her cooking skills. Kaji refuses to see her until Rika, at the suggestion of her friend Reiko, takes a different approach. Rather than asking Kaji about the murders, she asks for her beef stew recipe. As they interact, their exchanges focus more on food and Kaji’s ideas of ‘etiquette’ than murder, prompting not only a personal introspection for Rika but a culinary awakening. Rika’s newfound appetite results in her gaining weight, and we see how that affects the way she is seen by the people in her life. Her boyfriend, who is just as work-oriented as she is, critiques her for it, seeing it as a sign of her ‘letting herself go’, and believes that women should be especially careful of their appearance. Rika’s closest friend, Reiko, also, despite once being outspoken on matters of sexism, expresses ‘concern’ over Rika’s weight, but her remarks may have to do less with Rika’s body than Reiko feeling jealous of Rika’s fixation with Kaji. Inspired by true events, Asako Yuzuki's Butter explores themes of misogyny, obsession, beauty standards and culinary pleasures in contemporary Japan. The cover and blurb for Butter are somewhat misleading, as the novel proves to be less unsettling than they suggest. While the book does feature vivid sensory descriptions, particularly regarding food—its preparation, aroma, and taste—Yuzuki’s storytelling relied too much on repetitive depictions of glistening lips and sweaty bodies to elicit discomfort. There was an intensity ascribed to these descriptions that made many scenes feel unintentionally over the top (i was reminded of the business card scene from American Psycho…but in Butter these instances lack the former’s self-awareness and are delivered seemingly with seriousness). Butter aligns more closely with contemporary social critiques like Kim Jiyoung, Born 1982, Diary of a Void, Breast & Eggs, Boy Parts, Ripe, The Glow, and Natural Beauty, books that explore themes of women challenging or questioning gender norms and navigating misogyny and beauty standards within various societal contexts. Throughout Butter, every scene appears to reinforce these thematic points. It delves into the double standards around aging and the pressures faced by women to conform to traditional gender roles, especially within cultures with more conservative values. The novel extensively interrogates ideas surrounding femininity and the expectations placed upon women, particularly the impossible standards of the 'ideal' Japanese woman. While I appreciate narratives featuring diverse portrayals of female characters and exploring complex female friendships, Butter falls short in this regard. Rika, the protagonist, comes across as painfully uninteresting and exists seemingly only to convey certain messages. Her experiences, such as gaining weight and rejecting societal pressures regarding relationships, feel didactic rather than authentic. Despite Yuzuki’s attempts to depict complexity and contradiction in her female characters, their behaviors often feel contrived and surface-level, emerging only to serve the narrative's thematic agenda. I wouldn't have minded as much if said themes had been explored in-depth, but I found the story's treatment and portrayal of misogyny somewhat superficial. There are several scenes in which Rika reflects on societal expectations regarding women's appearance and behavior (and comes to the conclusion that no, women should not have live their lives in accordance with what men find sexually attractive) and that show her professional integrity being questioned by a male colleague (who assumes that she couldn't possibly have a male friend and that she is exploiting said man to gain information for scoops). And the novel also touches upon the cultural expectations placed on married women to prioritize their husband's well-being, including taking care of household chores and cooking for him.. But I just wanted more, especially given the novel's 'run-time'. But Yuzuki never delves into the more insidious aspects of sexism and misogyny. If anything, I found her takes somewhat naive. For instance, portraying a woman who emerges unscathed after spending time with a dubious man who is certainly a creep and could have also been involved in a murder. The lack of consequences felt overly idealistic to me. The supposed tension between Rika and Kaji, the central dynamic of the novel, lacked oomph. Kaji's influence on others, including Rika, feels unconvincing given her grating demeanor and, for all her portending to be an expert in culinary matters, her ‘hot takes’ weren’t all that hot. While Rika eventually sees through Kaji's facade, her prolonged influence on Rika's perspective on food and possibly life seems disproportionate to her actual impact. Kaji's character, at first presented in an enigmatic manner akin to Hannibal Lecter had neither the charisma nor depth necessary to maintain my interest. If Butter had delved deeper into Rika’s experiences at her workplace and prioritized the development of her friendship with Reiko, perhaps I wouldn’t have felt so exasperated at this story. I found the narrative to be full of unnecessary dramatic moments (including Reiko impulsively playing detective to prove…something? What was going through her head? And then what…she just gives up like that?, Reiko is traumatized by her parents' open relationship and by the fact that her husband, like her father, also finds physical intimacy between spouses wrong—using her father’s words almost verbatim—Rika’s own trauma around her father’s death and cooking, the whole stuffed turkey thing at the end). Several plot points are introduced that seem promising enough but ultimately lead nowhere. The characterization of Kaji remains shallow, failing to evolve beyond her initial portrayal, making me wonder to what extent Rika truly understood her ‘twisted’ psyche. The novel’s conclusion was jarringly cheesy, as Rika and the people around her advocate for self-acceptance (a trite "found family" trope is shoehorned for good measure), which felt contrived and lacking in depth. Rika's inadequacies as a journalist are... noticeable. She’s a shit journalist. She claims to want to write an article on Kaji but her tactics to get Kaji to open up are incoherent (she does what Kaji wants her to do, but then asks very stupid questions or makes tone-deaf remarks—she tactlessly complains about her weight gain—that are bound to alienate someone as demanding and misanthropic as Kaji). Also, why didn’t it occur to Rika, like it did for Reiko, to find the man Kaji was staying with prior to her arrest? The exploration of Kaji's family and past feels cursory, presenting a cliched portrait of a Daddy’s Girl without offering meaningful insight. The narrative dangles several intriguing threads—such as the implication of a character's predatory tendencies and Kaji's alleged crimes—yet Yuzuki fails to follow these up satisfactorily. Despite being referred to as a serial killer, Kaji's actions and motivations receive only a surface-level examination and consequently Rika's view of Kaji is rather simplistic and her newfound understanding of her feels unearned (Kaji’s vices are emphasized throughout the narrative—her body too is described in a way that left much to be desired as if to emphasize just how ‘uncontrollable’ and defiant to norms she is— but then at the end we are meant to find her pathetic and kind of a victim—of her internalized misogyny, of the public’s gaze, of her need for male validation). Kaji's real life counterpart was also convicted on murder charges despite the lack of evidence, and Japan does have an incredibly high conviction rate...so why did not have Rika question whether Kaji deserved to be convicted? Or seen and spoken of a serial killer...? Kaji is antisocial, narcissistic, callous, manipulative and she doesn't seem to feel any remorse over the fact that she targeted/defrauded men…but then again their relationship seemed to me very much transactional…so why does Rika so readily accepts that Kaji is this 'serial killer'? Overall, Butter fell short of delivering the darker, psychologically gripping narrative I had hoped for. Rika's journey towards uncovering the ‘truth’ feels aimless, and the murder aspect of the story is glossed over in favor of these overly dramatic moments that fail to provide a meaningful exploration of the novel’s thematic elements. I had expected the novel to explore Rika's (supposed) 'corruption', but it never happened (unless you count gaining weight and learning to love food again as 'bad'). As a result, her own anxiety and Reiko's concern about her growing too close to Kaji seemed somewhat uncalled for. Like, chill. Not like Kaji is urging Rika to kill men. To give the author the benefit of the doubt, one could argue that she deliberately crafted a narrative of smoke and mirrors, teasing depths and thrills without fully delivering on them. I just was hoping for something darker, something more on the lines of a psychological cat-and-mouse game. Maybe on the lines of The Silence of the Lambs, or something in the realms of Barbara Vine or even My Sister, the Serial Killer. And, sure, maybe I thought that this book would deal with, shall we say, more monstrous appetites (i do love a cannibal story). Was this novel terrible? No. Was it frustrating? Sure. But, as I said before, it was so annoying as to be almost amusing. The type of book that makes you want to rant to someone about how unbelievably stupid the characters are or how ridiculous the story is. I wanted to genuinely like this novel as I am fond of the woman-being-weird-about-another-woman subgenre, but Butter missed the mark. Yuzuki's attempt to balance seriousness, realism, and drama didn't quite coalesce into something cohesive, resulting in a narrative that tone-wise felt very uneven. Even her exploration of misogyny, though earnest, lacked depth and wasn't all that thought-provoking. There seemed to be potential in delving deeper into Reiko's experiences as a stay-at-home wife, but her perspective only receives brief attention towards the end of the novel. Similarly, the portrayal of Rika's challenges in a male-dominated industry could have been more compelling, especially considering the doubts cast upon her professional abilities (then again she is a shite journalist so...). I've read plenty of books that tackle the themes this novel sets out but fails to explore them deeply. And if I were to view it as a slice-of-life narrative about the experiences of women in the workplace, in marriage, and so on, Butter wasn't as compelling as most female-centered dramas out there. If this novel is on your radar, I recommend you check out more positive reviews or give it a try. Who knows, you might find something in it that resonates with you in a way that it didn't for me. Also, credit goes to the narrator of the audiobook, Hanako Footman. I really enjoyed her performance and I doubt I would have managed to finish this book if not for her narration. ...more |
Notes are private!
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1
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Mar 03, 2024
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Mar 10, 2024
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Feb 22, 2024
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Paperback
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| 0231195710
| 9780231195713
| 0231195710
| 3.97
| 5,262
| 1995
| Jun 01, 2021
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it was ok
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Despite its 1990s publication, The Membranes surprisingly doesn't come off as dated. Sure, the futuristic concepts it plays around with have since bee
Despite its 1990s publication, The Membranes surprisingly doesn't come off as dated. Sure, the futuristic concepts it plays around with have since been thoroughly explored elsewhere (be it literature or other forms of media). Yet Chi Ta-wei's world-building retains a refreshing and innovative quality. However, this potential is ultimately sabotaged by vast amounts of exposition. The delivery of said exposition made these exposition dumps all the more obtrusive. The narrative adopts a scholarly tone, which, though suitable for speculative fiction, here rendered the storytelling didactic and disconnected. Rather than feeling immersed in Momo's story, the exposition interrupted the action of the story and turned her into more of a case study than a character I am to believe in and or care for. The exposition interrupted the momentum of the story, at times coming across as an intrusive prolonged intermission (“All right. At last this complicated backstory has reached a turning point. Here’s where things get interesting.”). The novel's conceit was intriguing, no doubt, but its execution necessitated more of a sleight of hand. A more subtle, nebulous approach (reminiscent of authors such as kazuo ishiguro and emily st. john mandel) would have lent Ta-wei’s 'what if' scenario a deeper resonance and complexity. The novel is set in the late 21st century, when, to escape climate change, humanity has been forced to relocate to the bottom of the sea. In the ‘underwater’ T City Momo works as a dermal care technician, and despite being pretty renowned in her field, she keeps a low profile. This is partly due to her estranged mother being a powerful, famous even, figure. Momo hasn’t seen her since she was a child, and the two are now strangers. We learn that as a child Momo was sick and of the childhood friend she made during that time. Things however don’t quite add up, and the narrative explores that mismatch between Momo’s experiences and her memories, between her mind and her body. As I said, the novel, brief as it is, was overshadowed by exposition, which is delivered in such a stiff way as to come across as awkward. The language here, and I’m not sure if this is due to it being a translation, came across often as that of an academic paper. This was most likely intentional, nevertheless, it just took away focus from Momo and her environment. There is a lot of navel-gazing, which is not quite as revealing as actually exploring Momo’s psyche. The narrative spends too much time going over these Freudian scenarios, in which Momo desires to be touched as her mother seems to be touched by her ‘friend’. The childish language in these scenes made the novel’s exploration of Momo’s sexuality and gender somewhat simplistic and not as provocative or challenging as it needed to be. Still, I recognize that my disappointment may stem from my having come across this concept elsewhere and from being the type of reader who finds exposition-heavy narratives to be a huge turn-off. I do appreciate Ta-wei's exploration of queerness, and recognize that The Membranes resonated with plenty of other readers...so, if this novel happens to be on your radar I recommend you give it a try. ...more |
Notes are private!
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1
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Feb 22, 2024
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Feb 27, 2024
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Jan 09, 2024
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Paperback
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| 1646221885
| 9781646221882
| 1646221885
| 3.49
| 326
| Jan 23, 2024
| Jan 23, 2024
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it was ok
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Broughtupsy, despite its compelling first few pages, proved to be the type of novel that favors style over substance. And sure, while there are books
Broughtupsy, despite its compelling first few pages, proved to be the type of novel that favors style over substance. And sure, while there are books that can pull this off, the 'style' presented by Broughtupsy is both affected and shallow. Striving for a blend of lyricism and immediacy, Christina Cooke’s writing style is not far removed from that of Tumblr poetry. Cooke's excessive reliance on repetition and onomatopoeias comes across as gimmicky and posey. It's unfortunate, given what the novel could have accomplished. I know it's a somewhat overused ‘put-down’, but Broughtupsy did have potential. The novel centers on Akúa who left Jamaica for Canada as a child, not long after her mother’s death. Now twenty, Akúa is once again grieving, this time the death of her younger brother, Bryson. Seeking to reconnect with her estranged older sister, Tamika, Akúa makes the impulsive decision to spend two weeks in Kingston. While I’m all for flawed, or even unlikeable, characters, I found Akúa to be both insufferable and not particularly believable. I had a hard time buying into how naive she is and continues to be throughout the novel. Her inability to comprehend diverse perspectives, to accept that people feel different things and or respond differently to the same situations, felt far-fetched. Upon arriving in Kingston, her actions, particularly regarding their brother's ashes, contribute to tensions with Tamika, yet Akúa often perceives others as unreasonable, displaying a self-centered and self-victimizing attitude. Time and time again I wanted to ask her: what did you expect? What possessed you? ...you did this for what? Despite claiming a desire to reconnect to Tamika, Akúa demonstrates little genuine interest in Tamika, let alone her experiences. Funnily enough, I disliked Akúa so much that, by contrast, even Tamika, someone who is homophobic and seemingly pro-British, appealed to me. The narrative introduces a forced sexual awakening subplot, diverting attention from the sisters' dynamic and Bryson's character, who ultimately serves as a plot device and the catalyst for Akúa's journey. Akúa's love interest is portrayed in a rather objectifying way, and I wish that she had not been so quickly reduced to serve the role of ‘escape’ for Akúa. The dialogues follow a repetitive pattern, with Character A, usually Akúa, initiating uncomfortable discussions, and Character B refusing to engage in said discussion, so they flat-out ignore A's line of questioning (usually it's the one question being repeated ad nauseam) and talk about something else, but A keeps on prodding, so B is shouting over A, and A just doesn't get why B doesn't want to talk about 'real' things, leading to verbal and sometimes physical altercations. And of course, we also get flashbacks chapters, where we are introduced to two characters devoid of clear personalities (beyond being racist). Akúa meets them on the first day of school, and, wouldn’t you know, they end up becoming BFFs. The inclusion of a half-heartedly portrayed girlfriend character adds little to the narrative. These flashbacks felt like missed opportunities to delve into Akúa's home life and her relationships with her father and brother. Cooke’s repetitive writing style was almost as aggravating as Akúa’s character. Repetition can be effective, but here it felt ‘right’ only in one or two instances (i’m thinking of that scene where Akúa is at the airport, or the one taking place in the market). In almost every other instance, Cooke’s use of repetition felt distracting, gimmicky even. I will say that Cooke’s attempts at creating a cinematic atmosphere are for the most part successful, and the novel’s biggest strength lies in its strong sense of place. Also, while I was clearly not a fan of the novel's execution, I did appreciate the themes that the story had set out to explore (from akúa’s alienation and dislocation to her frustration towards traditional & heteronormative notions of femininity and propriety). I can think of several titles that that delve into the complex dynamics between sisters—Yolk by Mary H.K. Choi, Sunset by Jessie Cave, Caucasia by Danzy Senna, The Star Side of Bird Hill by Naomi Jackson, Butter Honey Pig Bread by Francesca Ekwuyasi—or that feature characters journeying someplace in the hopes of reconciling themselves with their pasts—All the Water I’ve Seen Is Running by Elias Rodriques—or perhaps as a means of escape—The Human Zoo by Sabina Murray—and I'm afraid that compared to those, Broughtupsy just did not make the cut. The review above is very much subjective, so if you are interested in this novel, I suggest you check out some more positive reviews out. ...more |
Notes are private!
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1
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Jan 25, 2024
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Jan 30, 2024
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Jan 03, 2024
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Hardcover
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| 1668034344
| 9781668034347
| 1668034344
| 4.10
| 5,984
| May 28, 2024
| May 28, 2024
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it was ok
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The initial allure of The Safekeep faded quickly as the narrative, poised to be a tale of psychological suspense, delivers a conventional, and occasio
The initial allure of The Safekeep faded quickly as the narrative, poised to be a tale of psychological suspense, delivers a conventional, and occasionally trite, story. The novel’s tense atmosphere quickly gave way to a sentimentality that felt unearned and out-of-place, disappointingly milquetoast (better suited to a generic period-drama if you ask me). In the summer of 1961 in the quiet Dutch province of Overijssel, Isabel, living alone in her late mother's country home, finds her daily routine disrupted by the unwelcome arrival of Eva, her brother Louis’ latest girlfriend. Despite her protestations, Louis, the ‘official’ owner of the house, forces his decision onto Isabel before setting off. Eva is very much an unwanted guest and behaves in a way that sets Isabel’s teeth on edge. Isabel, already prone to paranoia and possessing a rather sanctimonious outlook, abhors Eva. She seems to believe that Eva’s girlish, laid-back nature is a front and soon suspects her of stealing when several items go missing. Now and again they spend time with Isabel’s other brother, who to her disapproval is living with a close male ‘friend’ of his. Nothing much happens beyond a series of domestic scenes in which Isabel is depicted as a repressed, slightly neurotic woman who, like many repressed fictional characters before her, lets out her frustration and anger by stuffing her face into a towel or a pillow or whatnot and screaming. Or giving Bateman-spiraling-over-a-business-card energy. I’m not against conceal don’t feel type of characters, (eg. the lucys authored by Brontë and Kincaid or one of Shirley Jackson’s girlies), or ones who become fixated or obsessed with someone they are also suspicious of (These Violent Delights by Micah Nemerever, Apartment by Teddy Wayne), but Isabel, who is neither complex nor intriguing enough for me to feel any sort of way towards her, fails to evolve beyond a one-dimensional character. Her contradictions and inner conflicts lack depth and come across as contrived and uninspiring. The promised exploration of her 'forbidden' attraction feels forced and fails to make her a compelling or fleshed-out character. Eva, the object of Isabel’s desire, was even less interesting. Her character consists of a series of thin impressions, making her into a barely-there sort of presence. This is surprising given that she is meant to be the catalyst to Isabel, the reason behind the ‘unravelling’ of her studied outer self. We are probably meant to find Eva to be the more approachable character, but I found her for the most part to be forgettable, although occasionally she did strike me as irritating. Her hidden agenda felt disappointingly moviesque, especially the way her backstory is presented to us…it was very giving historical melodrama, which may work for many, but does zilch for me. The novel initially promises to be something more in the realm of psychological suspense, a story where we follow the type of character that is rather off-putting. Isabel is unyielding, rather misanthropic, and believes herself to be the subject of many slights. I was fine with her being this type of character, after all, two of my favorite novels are Giovanni’s Room and Madame Bovary, both of which focus on morally reprehensible characters…but then along the way Isabel’s arc ends up being surprisingly sentimental. There were so many scenes in The Safekeep that should have made me feel a certain degree of something but I just didn’t buy into them. Supposedly charged moments and tense discussions didn’t land, often because they seemed overly dramatic in a way that felt unearned, forced even. I didn’t buy into Isabel’s obsession with Eva, mostly because Eva is for the most part portrayed as very wishy-washy. I’m not against narratives where one character is projecting their feelings onto another character, or letting their paranoia tinge their understanding of another person (their personality, their ‘true’ motivations), or where the central relationship is very much push/pull, but here...the supposed tension, or chemistry, between these two women felt simultaneously rushed and overdone. I would have preferred more of a slow burner, but they go from nothing to 100% in a way that took away from the novel’s initial atmosphere of ambivalence. I was surprised by how banal the plot was. The main characters were dramatic in a way that brought to mind The World Cannot Give by Tara Isabella Burton, a novel I don’t care for in the slightest. The side characters were very one-note, and Isabel’s brother's story was presented to us in a way that made me think of so many period dramas (in other words, cliched). It’s frustrating because van der Wouden’s writing is top-notch and those first chapters were very absorbing. Her descriptions of the house and its contents, as well as the way she describes the characters’ expressions and body language, were very well done. Her writing style exudes a cool, polished quality reminiscent of Barbara Vine, Sarah Waters, and Magda Szabó. On paper, The Safekeep explores compelling themes. Against the backdrop of the 1960s, the narrative has the opportunity to unveil the societal expectations and constraints placed on women. Isabel's adherence to conservative values leads her to perceive her burgeoning attraction to Eva as morally 'wrong.' Additionally, her prejudices extend to those outside her racial, cultural, and class spheres. The novel does allow us to see how Isabel's narrow mindset becomes a self-imposed trap, hindering her from experiencing true fulfillment, living in the shadow of her mother and resentful of her brothers' freedom. The central themes of inherited guilt and reparations are also pivotal to the narrative. However, the way these issues are handled struck me as somewhat schematic, leaning towards a simplistic and moralizing tone. Alas, the novel’s initial tense atmosphere just...fizzles out. I’m all for books where fraught character dynamics are at the centre stage, but here Isabel and Eva lacked substance, consequently, their friction and their developing relationship left me feeling very uninvolved. Maybe the reason I was so unbothered by this novel is that I read it not long after reading Winter Love, an overlooked lesbian classic narrated by someone not that dissimilar from Isabel herself (Han Suyin's narrator is aloof, unpleasant even) who embarks into a love affair with a married woman. Or I just have come across this type of dynamic and atmosphere in several other novels (Sweet Days of Discipline by Fleur Jaeggy, The Inseparables by Simone de Beauvoir, and Passing by Nella Larsen, Belladonna by Anbara Salam, books by Danzy Senna, Patricia Highsmith). van der Wouden's is a clearly talented writer, it's a pity that her novel falls victim to a lacklustre execution. Still, in spite of my negative review, I encourage prospective readers to give van der Wouden's debut a shot. I may have simply been unable to enjoy it due to my overexposure to this type of genre. If you liked Claire Fuller's Bitter Orange or Ian McEwan's Atonement, or if you happen to enjoy the historical fiction penned by authors like Rose Tremain, there's a good chance you will find van der Wouden's debut to be a satisfying reading experience. ...more |
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Jan 23, 2024
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Jan 29, 2024
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Jan 02, 2024
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Hardcover
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| 0593537610
| 9780593537619
| 0593537610
| 4.24
| 24,351
| Jan 23, 2024
| Jan 23, 2024
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it was ok
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Kaveh Akbar’s Martyr!, one of my most anticipated 2024 releases, fell short of its premise. Despite its potential, Martyr! struck me as a novel that w
Kaveh Akbar’s Martyr!, one of my most anticipated 2024 releases, fell short of its premise. Despite its potential, Martyr! struck me as a novel that was taken out of the publishing oven far too early. The result is a rather half-baked novel that failed to truly elicit any strong emotion on my part. Despite the novel’s polyphonic structure, the various perspectives in Martyr! sounded less like a choir and more like a monotonous voice, one that inadvertently pulled me out of the reading experience. I found myself acutely aware of its constructed nature, and I felt frustrated by the book’s singular tone. To be sure, there were a couple of reflections here and there that felt perceptive, nuanced, and certainly relatable (especially when it comes to expressing the experiences/mind-set of someone who is depressed, suicidal, and/or addicted). But that was sort of it. We have this main character who despite being in possession of various ‘quirks’ (from his childhood habits to his rather ‘unique’ job at the hospital that sadly made me think of Todo sobre mi madre, a film i fucking hated), is ultimately a springboard for various discourses. The novel is most effective in the “sessions” between Cyrus, our protagonist, a newly sober Iranian-American queer man approaching 30, and Orkideh, a terminally ill performance artist who in a very Marina Abramović move is living out her final days in the Brooklyn Museum. These sections made me think back to María Gainza’s Optic Nerve, and so during these interactions, I found the artspeak and academic references to be apt, whereas, in the remainder of the novel, these felt either didactic or out-of-place. Cyrus’ chapters are intercut by chapters from his family members: his father, who died while Cyrus was in college, his mother, whose death is in many ways the catalyst for Cyrus’ fixation on martyrdom, and his uncle, traumatized by his experiences in the Iranian battlefields where dressed as the Angel of death, he comforted his dying countrymen. I almost immediately questioned the author’s choice to adopt a 1st pov in their chapters, whereas Cyrus’ are told through a 3rd pov. Their voices, sounded like what Cyrus would think they would sound like. I wished that the author could have been a bit more unconventional when it came to the structure of his novel. The storytelling could have been more experimental, for instance, something along the lines of Mary-Alice Daniel's A Coastline Is an Immeasurable Thing (a memoir that manages to balance an intimate coming-of-age with various historical accounts), Namwali Serpelll’s labyrinthine (which presents readers with different versions of the same events/episodes), or Kim Thúy’s fragmented forays into the past. A more atypical structure would have complemented Cyrus’ troubled nature to his childhood and family history, as well as his sense of dislocation. For example, we could have had Cyrus either imagining and writing about the experiences of his parents and uncle or providing secondhand accounts of their lives. After all, he is a writer, a poet, who is writing a work on martyrs that is heavily influenced by his own experiences of death and grief. Or it could have gone for a story-within-story type of framework, a la Elizabeth Kostova, or committed more fully to being a family saga, after all, that type of narrative doesn't prevent one from exploring more ‘literary’ topics or providing thought-provoking reading material (eg. Elif Shafak, Louise Erdrich, Hala Alyan, Margaret Wilkerson Sexton). But Martyr! never quite finds its footing. The use of multiple perspectives is done by rote. And I wouldn’t have minded as much if these various voices had depth, but they struck me as self-referential, mere exercises in style. The author tries to jazz things up by including sections where Cyrus imagines conversations between real-life people, like his mother, and fictional characters, like Lisa Simpson. Not only is this idea not particularly original (exploring a character’s psyche by having them engage in imaginary dialogues with famous figures). Maybe if the author had captured the essence of these fictional figures, I would have been more willing to overlook the contrived nature of these sections, but as it was Lisa Simpson is recognizable as such only because of her pearls and a possible reference to music. These chapters were distractingly gimmicky and further solidified my disinterest in the overall story. As I said early on, the novel did have potential, especially when it came to its topics & themes: martyrdom, death, grief, contemporary American politics, Western military interference in the Middle East, Iranian history, misperceptions of Islam, generational trauma and silence, the relationship between one’s identity and one’s art as well as the difficulty in challenging dualistic either/or way perspectives of one’s identity (when it comes to race, nationality, faith, and sexuality). In many instances dialogues or segments surrounding humanities subject areas rang hollow, at times even performative, as these added little to important issues, or advanced no new perspectives or argument, for instance when it came to using a postcolonial lens to reevaluate the Western canon. Like, we have this bit where two characters, who almost always sound like the same guy, talk about how racist The Bell Jar is, mentioning this one episode from that novel (the novel has several overt instances of racism). They then mention other controversial figures, like Susan Sontag, but the discussion there.. felt truncated, mere name-dropping. One character concludes childishly that everyone should do as he does. I wanted more from a scene like this, and certainly, I wanted this scene to feel like a realistic back-and-forward between two people. If you follow my reviews here on GR, you know by now that most of my favorite novels are centered around alienated, self-sabotaging, navel-gazing characters (eg. Are You Happy Now by Hanna Jameson, Yolk by Mary H.K. Choi, You Exist Too Much by Zaina Arafat and The Arena of the Unwell by Liam Konemann). And I also have a high tolerance when it comes to rambling internal monologues, or very academic novels (for instance Elif Batuman’s duology). But with Martyr! I did not feel that I was reading a compelling or in-depth character study. Cyrus was a means through which the author could initiate and discuss various topics. Cyrus’ internal monologue struck me as slightly formulaic, affected even. The ideas and images we found there were often overly wordy, in a way that took me out of the reading experience. It made me think of a certain type of very self-conscious academic writing, the kind of writing where something ‘simple’ is worded in such an unnecessarily convoluted way as to lose sight of its original meaning/purpose and can come across as just plain pretentious. While the novel does touch upon interesting issues, certain dialogues, especially the ones between Cyrus and his best friend, or Cyrus and his sponsor, seemed, schematic, and slightly dry. There is this plot reveal that struck me as sentimental and out-of-place, the type of plot point that would have been more suited to a more book-clubby book, or something from Hollywood. The author's depiction of his female characters left me with the impression that he was playing it 'safe'. Their personalities seemed to blend together, and while they were allowed some flaws, the author held back from making them as chaotic or lively as their male counterparts. As I said above, the novel would have benefited from having a more ambiguous type of storytelling, as it would have suited the novel’s themes: Cyrus' tendency to mythologize his past and family history, the uncertain nature of the act of retrospection, and so on. I have just read several books exploring these themes and, compared to those, Martyr! comes across as rather derivative and generic. Which is a pity, especially for a novel that includes a quote by Clarice Lispector... There were instances, often on a sentence level ("hairless in a way that makes my skull louder, the angles of my jaw"...i understand wanting to emphasize the uncle's, shall we say, fragmented psyche but his chapters were, predictably, full of these clunky stylized sentences), that needed more thorough editing (did we really need Cyrus to tell us how a wikipedia page is usually subdivided? And, at the risk of being pedantic: it's Venice Biennale, not Venice Biennal). A lot of descriptions were just...trying too hard (exhibit a: "his face all chin and jaw, cavernous dark eyes like weeping poppies"; exhibit b: "the narrowing angles of her jaw and neck like a diving crystal dangling from an invisible string"). It was by no means a bad read but it was a forgettable one. I was too aware of the author’s presence to feel invested in the story or its characters. The snippets of poetry that we get (written by Cyrus for his book) didn’t feel as striking as they were meant to be. All in all, Martyr was a bit of a misfire. Cyrus is the type of alienated and obsessive young(ish) man going through what could be broadly described as an existential crisis that I have come across before in literature (Hari Kunzru's Red Pill, David Santos Donaldson's Greenlanad, David Hoon Kim's Paris Is a Party, Paris Is a Ghost) and despite his experiences throughout the novel he ultimately ends up adhering to a predictable story arc (featuring convenient coincidences, moments of truth, and so on) that struck me as disappointingly vanilla. I don’t think that I’d read more by Akbar, but you never know. If this book is on your radar I recommend you give it a try despite my negative review or at least check out more positive reviews if you are making your mind up about it. ...more |
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1
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Jan 02, 2024
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Jan 08, 2024
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Jan 01, 2024
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Hardcover
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| 0063278677
| 9780063278677
| 0063278677
| 3.65
| 93,813
| Sep 07, 2010
| Jul 04, 2023
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it was ok
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Days at the Morisaki Bookshop is a short (thankfully) corny (unbearably so) novel about a heartbroken 25-year-old woman who is able to heal and find n
Days at the Morisaki Bookshop is a short (thankfully) corny (unbearably so) novel about a heartbroken 25-year-old woman who is able to heal and find new meaning in life by working at her uncle's second-hand bookshop. Takako, our central character, is no longer able to keep working at her company after her supposed boyfriend informs her, very casually, that he is actually going to marry someone else. She's thrown off kilter and soon finds it impossible to keep on working. More depressed than ever, Takako's days of listlessness are interrupted by a call from her eccentric uncle, whom she hadn't kept in contact with. He offers her a place to stay, rent-free, in exchange for helping out at his second-hand bookshop. She reluctantly agrees, but to begin with, has no interest in the place or its contents. Eventually, she learns to love literature and the bookshop, breaking free of her post-breakup apathy. Turns out her uncle is a nice guy and so is that cantankerous regular customer! Good times ensue and Takako not only gets better but learns valuable life lessons along the way. And I guess this could have just been a Hallmark-y, inoffensive, vanilla book about learning to love books and unexpected friendships and not judging people based on first impressions but we get a whole storyline involving Takako's aunt that veered straight into the mawkish. Worst, her story is moralistic, and punitive even, as (view spoiler)[we learn that the aunt left Takako's uncle because they are unable to conceive, a fact that the narrative implies to be a consequence of her having had an abortion. So now of course she blames herself...but 'confessing' this to Takako helps her to begin forgiving herself... (hide spoiler)]. I'm afraid that the way this issue is handled, as well as the platitudes that come to the surface during the conversations between the aunt & Takako, came across as clichéd, icky even. Needless to say, I was unsurprised to see that this book had been written by a man. As with any other review of mine, I feel the need to remind whoever is reading this that what they have just read is entirely subjective and that my not liking a book should not stop you from giving it a try. ...more |
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1
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Dec 14, 2023
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Dec 18, 2023
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Dec 14, 2023
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Paperback
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| 0593469372
| 9780593469378
| B0C7TMW5QY
| 4.15
| 785
| Mar 12, 2024
| Mar 12, 2024
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it was ok
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In recent years, there has been a surge in the publication of 'weird' short story collections, and unfortunately, Chung's Green Frog is a lacklustre a
In recent years, there has been a surge in the publication of 'weird' short story collections, and unfortunately, Chung's Green Frog is a lacklustre addition to this trend. The ‘quirky’ tone and the use of absurdist and surreal elements felt almost formulaic as if Chung was following a checklist or creative writing prompts rather than genuine narrative experiences rather than genuinely experimenting with her storytelling. The choice of the opening story was particularly baffling; it’s basically a series of instructions, not a story at all. To place this as your ‘opener’...it’s an odd choice. It was almost off-putting in a way. Usually collections like these open with a banger (and then fizzle out). But still, I moved past it hoping that the following stories would at least deliver on the themes promised by its summary. Sadly, they didn’t. Not only did they lack substance, but the style they prioritized felt derivative and not particularly compelling. Characters fail to register their presence on the page, and the story’s ‘quirks’ were entirely gimmicky. The only truly memorable one was the story about an amorphic praying mantis, but this story is really cut short and doesn’t really do anything (thematically or stylistically). They just washed over me. Neither bad, nor good, but certainly surface-level and forgettable. This is a pity as they promised to blend real-life struggles, specifically of Korean American women, with fantastical elements. However, I found the author’s exploration of bodies, desires, and memories to be tedious. While I didn't love Chung's debut, it had an earnestness that I couldn't help but admire. In comparison, Green Frog feels rather contrived. Maybe if you have just started reading weird short stories you might find yourself able to appreciate Green Frog in ways that I was unable to. ...more |
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Mar 14, 2024
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Mar 18, 2024
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Sep 13, 2023
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Kindle Edition
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| 1668014238
| 9781668014233
| 1668014238
| 3.84
| 21,751
| Jan 30, 2024
| Jan 30, 2024
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dnf 25% i guess this one is for the true crime podcast girlies. look, despite not having enjoyed Austin's previous novel, i approached Interesting Facts dnf 25% i guess this one is for the true crime podcast girlies. look, despite not having enjoyed Austin's previous novel, i approached Interesting Facts about Space with the best intentions. i really wanted to like it because i too am a neurodivergent lesbian she is not feeling good at all). and Edin just reminds me far too much of the mc from Austin's previous, just swap in that one's obsession with death for a fixation on space. i'm sure that there is an audience for this book, i'm just not it. i hope this book will find its way to readers who'll be able to enjoy it in all of the ways i wasn't able to. ...more |
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0
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not set
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not set
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Sep 05, 2023
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Hardcover
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| 0593328205
| 9780593328200
| 0593328205
| 3.37
| 29,664
| Jan 30, 2024
| Jan 30, 2024
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it was ok
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Reid’s latest novel is a disappointingly wishy-washy affair. Disclaimer: The review below is negative and ranty. If you happen to have liked this nove Reid’s latest novel is a disappointingly wishy-washy affair. Disclaimer: The review below is negative and ranty. If you happen to have liked this novel or are looking forward to reading it I recommend you give my review a wide berth. The feeling of being invested in their lives, it was thrilling and terrible. Reading Come and Get It was akin to waiting for a train that is delayed, so you sit there waiting and waiting, cycling between frustration, hope, and scepticism as the delayed time continues to increase. After hours, or what it feels like hours given your now woolly perception of time, an announcement informs you that your train has been cancelled. This is a roundabout way to say that while reading Come and Get It I kept waiting, anticipating really, for something to happen. Sure, some of my favorite books are plotless, that is, rather meandering in nature. Take Elife Batuman's The Idiot, which like Come and Get It hones in on campus/college life. That book is exceedingly digressive and resists traditional narrative arcs (of conflict and resolution). Yet, I found the novel's sardonic tone and realistically absurd dialogues to be deeply entertaining. But the narrative of Come and Get It seems to operate under the belief that it is providing a story with more dramatic elements, suspense even. As we switch between the novel’s three central figures, I was waiting for the atmosphere of subtle yet present unease (established by that very first chapter and later on compounded by the various character dynamics), to actualize into something more substantial, but it never did! There are a couple of plot points that the characters treat as being pivotal, or as a source of drama, but were actually deeply anticlimactic. The narrative ascribes far too much weight to these two pranks, which were actually just cringe and superfluous. The characters remain one-note, and as with her debut, Reid focuses way too much time on giving page space to deliberately obnoxious and oblivious characters, and doing very little with the person who should have been the novel’s central character (whose characterization can be essentially boiled down to bland yet ‘nice’). The novel seems to promise something dramatic, but nothing ever does. Compared to authors like Brandon Taylor, Ottessa Moshfegh, and Danzy Senna, Reid’s social satire feels tame, and shallow. The novel lacks bite, as it fails to really sink its teeth in its (supposed) themes: from the interplay between race, class, and sexuality, to present us with an uncomfortable close-up of privilege, or to consider how it feels to be a young adult in late-capitalist America. Yet it seems under the assumption that it is this witty and razor-sharp ‘tell-all’ of college life. The novel suffers from a confused identity, it doesn’t know whether it wants to be a satire about an insufferable group of people (think the white lotus or bodies bodies bodies), or a more realistic and earnest portrayal of campus life and (young) adulthood. The novel’s undecided nature made me lose interest in what I was reading and I found myself wishing that the story would either commit to being a parody (a la libba bray's beauty queens) or take a more hyper-realistic approach to college novel (from batuman's aloof duology, to martin chelsea's understated tell me i'm an artist or taylor’s anxiety-inducing real life). Throughout the novel, which takes place for the most part in the University of Arkansas in 2017-18 (why specify the year when said year bears little weight on the story?), we follow three characters, Millie, Agatha, and Kennedy, who don’t seem like they should belong to the same book. Kennedy was an incredibly derivative take of the 'dumb-blonde' characters like Glee's Brittany, Mean Girls's Karen, or Tiara from Bray's Beauty Queens. Her character would not be out of place in a novel by Moshfegh, Jen Beagin, or Mona Awad (but even then she would be ‘effective’ only as a cameo) or in a campy satirical comedy like Bottoms, Heathers, or Theater Camp…but here she feels out of place. Her ‘arc’, if we can call it that, is risible, as we are expected to care about her internal struggles when said struggles are worded in a way that makes them and her by extension appear idiotic. Her sections feature way too many flashbacks about her bond with her mum-cum-bff, same-y scenes about her wanting to make friends but not being able to, leaving crusty plates in the shared kitchen and feeling ‘attacked’ because her roommates aren’t keen on her industrial quantities of 'childish' stuff, and mentioning that she feels some type of way about Agatha’s book (her exact feelings towards this book are for the longest time never delved into and tbh the way she thinks this book ‘saved’ her felt like a reach given the way her character is depicted as being). We have Agatha, a white lesbian visiting professor in her late 30s who comprises several ethical codes to listen in on the conversations between a trio of besties who spend their time in the college's residence hall. She finds their in-jokes and ways of expressing themselves compelling despite or maybe because they are incredibly vapid, materialistic, and unimaginatively problematic. She keeps going on and on about how interesting their attitude towards money is, yet beyond establishing how unaware of their own privilege these girls are, the narrative doesn’t reveal anything particularly insightful on this subject matter. And yet we are meant to believe that Agatha’s piece on them is a hit and that readers love it. I mean, in this day and age, when plenty of content where people ‘tell’ on themselves on social media…and the things these girls talk about are banal and unfunny. Ironically enough Agatha herself complains during a scene about "hat[ing] stories like this—Getting-There Stories. It was like someone talking about their dreams. They were only interesting to the person they'd happened to." Well, I can say the same about this trio's exchanges, as their banter and gossip did not interest me one bit. One of them, the trio's 'alpha', really wants a dog and thinks it's funny to pull puerile pranks with problematic undercurrents. They are a rather entitled and grating bunch, the caricature of what the collective imagination tends to think of American girls, but even if we accept them as caricatures, they just weren’t that fun. I’d rather watch a clip from an episode of The Simple Life, which is guaranteed to be appealing yet entertaining. Agatha's wonderment at the girls’ ‘modern’ lingo, is rather hard to digest given that she has not been living in a bubble (she interviewed people for her previous books and is a professor and therefore must have been in contact with other young people before coming across this trio). That chapter early on relationship with her ex had some sort of promise, as here Reid is able to give readers a convincing overview of their relationship. Their break-up felt realistic as Reid shows how their age and wage gap, as well as their different values and priorities, slowly begin to sour their domestic life. But then the rest of the chapters that focus on Agatha do not really provide any new insights into her psyche. Despite being aware of the murky morals of writing about a group of (much younger) people without their consent (not only does she exaggerate their flaws but she takes all sorts of liberties when recounting their histories and words), she keeps doing it because it’s just so damn fascinating (it's anything but) to hear these girls talk. Agatha's choices in the latter of the novel seemed unconvincing given that there was really nothing in her previous chapters that indicated that she would be the type of person to go ahead and do what she did. It also made me rather disappointed by the light in which her sexuality is cast… We then have Millie, a 24-year-old Black student and RA who, similarly to Agatha, had a very promising chapter early on, as we learn about how she took time out of college to go back home so she could be close to her mum. I actually loved (yes loved) how the narrative describes their time together, and how their bond with each other is conveyed. It felt true-to-life and it promised a story with some emotional beats to it. But then Millie’s storyline ends up completely focusing on how she wants to buy a house (mais pourquoi ?!), and how compared to every other RA she doesn't/can't take this job lightly, and that she is a Nice Person. Nice she may be but give us something else to work with. I can relate to and believe in characters who are passive, especially in scenes of conflict or when dealing with microaggressions (like in win me something and luster), but Millie isn’t even particularly passive, she is just happens to be "there". Her chapters reveal little about who she is, and I found myself wanting for her chapters to reveal something more than her surface-level kindness. We are led to believe that she develops a crush on 2 characters (characters she has 0 chemistry with) combined with the ‘pranks’ (which again, were both pathetic and bathetic) and her quest for a house, see her adopting a more careless towards attitude towards her role as the residence hall's RA. The ‘consequences’ of this felt dramatic, in an unearned way. There was also something moralistic about her storyline which really didn’t sit well with me. Her being swept up by a romantic tryst and being mildly miffed by the people involved in the prank aimed at her, makes her what, stray from the Good Path…like really? She doesn’t even call out the person responsible for the prank, and yet the fact that she now gives the people involved in this prank a bit of a cold shoulder makes her irresponsible? Bad? Puhlease. Side characters are thinly rendered stereotypes. Reid's older characters were far more convincing than her younger ones, whose words and behaviors ultimately come across as rather affected and cringey. Take Millie's side kicks for instance: the mean lesbian and the sassy gay. As I kept waiting for a dramatic event or exchange to happen, I found myself growing increasingly annoyed by the novel. From the way the characters are portrayed to the flat dialogue. The prose also left something to be desired as it brought to mind authors whose writing I am on the fence about: Sally Rooney, Emily R. Austin, and Naoise Dolan. It sometimes really struck me as generic, impersonal, and unimaginative. We never delve deep into any one issue or theme, and the college setting felt really underutilized, a gimmick, as we don’t learn much about what any of the characters are studying or how they actually feel about their present and future. final thoughts: Come and Get It feels like a missed opportunity. It promises something but never delivers. The three main storylines do not mesh well together, the prose is flat, the characters are underdeveloped, and outside of those first introductory chapters, the narrative is monotonous. There were moments of humor that landed, such as: "Ryland, I'm kind of emotional," Millie said. "I have lots of emotional experiences in parking lots. I always have." But these were outweighed by several scenes that are meant to be witty but didn't strike me as particularly clever or new. Reid's satire lacks oomph and her social commentary was neither provocative nor insightful. Even on a purely entertainment level, Come and Get It just did nothing for me. The novel never seems to find its footing, from the pacing to its tone. I swear that wanted to like Come and Get It, and maybe I would have if Reid had structured her novel as a series of interlinked stories, like Taylor does in Filthy Animals. But at the end of the day Come and Get It was something in the realms of Rooney by way of Curtis Sittenfeld, so if you are a fan of either, you might find Reid's latest to be a much more rewarding reading experience than I did. ...more |
Notes are private!
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1
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Dec 16, 2023
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Dec 21, 2023
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Aug 27, 2023
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Hardcover
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| 1250875331
| 9781250875334
| 1250875331
| 3.70
| 8,315
| Jul 18, 2023
| Jul 18, 2023
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it was ok
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the concept was good and there were some interesting ideas at play here but the uneven pacing and repetitive dialogues dragged it down. and god, i am
the concept was good and there were some interesting ideas at play here but the uneven pacing and repetitive dialogues dragged it down. and god, i am so sick of this underdog-everyone-is-special-but-i-suck-wait-actually-turns-out-i-am-just-not-like-other-people type of main character who comes across as very much a y/n type of figure. also, why make the character who uses they/them pronouns the most aggressive/antagonistic one...this is not the first time i come across a nb character who is portrayed this way and i am not a fan...that aside this book was a drag. the dual timeline added little to the overarching narrative as the information and dynamics that take place in the 'past' did not require full-length chapters (petition to make flashbacks and acts of retrospection a thing). the 'mystery' unfolded predictably and i think more could have been done in terms of maintaining a tense, fraught even, atmosphere. a lot of the narrative feels wasted on a mc who is not only bland but deeply aggravating (and not in a, that's-so-relatable way). the mc's motivations to embark on this project in the first place are glossed over far too quickly, which is weird given how much page-time we spend revisiting her experiences prior the mission. overall, not my cup of tea. if you are interested in this novel i recommend you check out more positive reviews out.
...more
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Notes are private!
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1
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Sep 04, 2023
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Sep 07, 2023
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Aug 22, 2023
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Hardcover
| ||||||||||||||
| 8806248693
| 9788806248697
| 8806248693
| 3.20
| 1,285
| 2014
| Sep 20, 2022
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it was ok
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i am so done with books where i n c e s t is portrayed so casually. give us a warning or something. gesù. not the kind of plot poin you want to discov
i am so done with books where i n c e s t is portrayed so casually. give us a warning or something. gesù. not the kind of plot poin you want to discover while reading it on your work commute. I bought this as a birthday present (from myself to myself) to read on my work commutes (to the 3rd worst place i have ever worked at). This book was meant to make my work commutes better, however, it succeeded in making me look like a total weirdo given all of the grossed-out faces I must have made while I was reading this. I like Kawakami, I usually find her style to be whimsical without lapsing into contrived sentimentality. her storytelling is playful, while her plots and characters often veer into the absurd. 水声, published in Italian as La voce dell'acqua (something along the lines of 'the voice of the water/the water's voice') is tinged by the same melancholic atmosphere that characterises much of Kawakami's oeuvre, as our narrator, Miyako, and her brother, Ryo, move back into their childhood home. Miyako's reflections on the past and the passage of time, certainly add to the overall sense of nostalgia, and I did find myself lulled by her recollections and her insights into her childhood and family dynamics. I also liked the slice-of-life feel given by the narrative's focus on those seemingly mundane interactions and moments that make up everyday life. So there I was, enjoying this book while pretending not to be bothered by the overcrowded tram I was in (one of the many perks when working in venice when living on the mainland) when i n c e s t! I had to re-read that passage several times because it came really out of the left field. and then the novel devolves into this incesty romance that not only felt hugely unnecessary but was surprisingly corny. maybe this is due to Ryo's character, someone whose whole personality could be described as being 'there', or to his scenes with his sister being this weird mix of sappy and icky, but I found their relationship to be little else besides gross. the narrative tip-toes around the taboo nature of their relationship and seems in fact unwilling to confront just how and why their relationship is so 'forbidden' (read: yuck). Not only that but as I read on I was confronted with even more incest making this one of those rare incest² types of incest-y books. If I was depressed before reading this I found myself even more depressed after it (thinking that i'd just wasted my money on it). the thing is, i know that to portray something doesn't mean to endorse said something, and can put up with topics/dynamics in fiction that i find gross/problematic/whatever-else (a couple of my favorite books deal with incest). but if you are going to depict incest, i except some angst, some nuance, something more than whatever wasn't going on here. Even if you, like me, are a fan of Kawakami, I'd advise you to read this one at your discretion (as of now it has yet to be published in english but i'm pretty sure it won't be long till it will be). ...more |
Notes are private!
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1
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May 26, 2023
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Jun 2023
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Mar 01, 2023
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Hardcover
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| 1668011085
| 9781668011089
| 1668011085
| 3.55
| 5,067
| May 02, 2023
| May 02, 2023
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it was ok
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i guess i wanted more drama... I went into The Nigerwife by Vanessa Walters expecting it to be the kind of thriller that makes for an entertaining beac i guess i wanted more drama... I went into The Nigerwife by Vanessa Walters expecting it to be the kind of thriller that makes for an entertaining beach read. Something in the realms of authors like Liane Moriarty. We have the dual timelines/povs, the sine qua non of domestic thrillers, that switch between the present day, where we follow Auntie Claudine as she travels to Nigeria to look for her estranged niece, whose disappearance does not seem to be of much concern to either Nicole’s husband or her in-laws, and the ‘past’, where we get an insight into Nicole’s married life. The ‘missing woman’ plot makes for a rather tired premise, however, given the story’s setting and the focus on an aunt-niece dynamic (while usually in these type of thrillers, it’s about sisters, mother-daughters, current wife-former wife), I did hope that The Nigerwife could make for a gripping read. Sadly, the novel feels bogged down by scenes that reveal very little about the characters. Much is made about Nicole’s powerful in-laws but those family dynamics are barely hinted at. The novel lacks suspense, and atmosphere, which is a pity. The characters are surface-level, and the story relies on the usual cliches of the genre. The twists and reveals at the end were predictable and lazy. As per usual, the opinions expressed above are entirely subjective so if you are interested in this book you should definitely check it out. ...more |
Notes are private!
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1
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May 10, 2023
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May 17, 2023
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Feb 10, 2023
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Hardcover
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| 0593421116
| 9780593421116
| B0BTVBNBPS
| 3.55
| 8,230
| Oct 10, 2023
| Oct 10, 2023
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it was ok
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it seems washington is one of those authors whose books i want to love but in reality, i do not. i liked the premise of this one but the style, especi
it seems washington is one of those authors whose books i want to love but in reality, i do not. i liked the premise of this one but the style, especially when it comes to the dialogues and the character's inner thoughts, strike me as clunky, and not in a realistic way but in a rather laboured manner. the moments of tension were particularly unconvincing and just came across as poorly delivered lines. the arguments felt contrived as if acted out by a bunch of very green theatre students. the novel wants to be realistic and unfiltered in its portrayal of depression, grief, and addiction, but these things are depicted in an almost gimmicky way. not quite sensationalistic but in an annoyingly rooney-esque way (affected edginess). here the narrative feels particularly disjointed due to the novel's structure, which falls prey to the overused switch in perspective. there were moments where i perceived something close to nuance, but these quieter moments are lost in (over)dramatic sequences where we watch our mc going down the well-trodden path of a self-destructive 'messy' protagonist. anyway, those are my thoughts about family meal. if this novel happens to be on your radar i recommend you check out other readers takes on it. ...more |
Notes are private!
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1
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Sep 07, 2023
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Sep 14, 2023
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Jan 15, 2023
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Kindle Edition
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| 080216238X
| 9780802162380
| 080216238X
| 4.09
| 5,589
| Apr 04, 2023
| Apr 04, 2023
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it was ok
| “Something about him triggered a pulse of recognition; not that he was someone in particular, but that he was like me, blended and uncertain.” Enter “Something about him triggered a pulse of recognition; not that he was someone in particular, but that he was like me, blended and uncertain.” Enter Ghost is the kind of novel that on paper, is exactly my kind of read. Novels focusing on alienated women who travel somewhere they both feel like they belong to but do not, such as The Human Zoo and The Far Field, tend to appeal to me and so do main characters who are a combination of pathetic, churlish, and selfish. And yet, Sonia, our central character, manages to be not only painfully uninteresting, despite her attempts at fashioning herself as interesting and oblique, but profoundly annoying. I am sure that this was to some extent the desired extent but the narrative does suggest that she is far more complex and fascinating a figure than she actually is. Not only did I find her boring and obnoxious but there were several instances where I had a hard time 'buying' into her. She presents herself as this somewhat jaded and remote actor with a tendency to be in relationships with questionable power dynamics (she has an affair with the director of a play she was starring in), but more often than not her internal monologue and her responses to other people's words and actions struck me as sanctimonious and affected. Still, I am not about to dissuade prospective readers from giving Enter Ghost a chance given that YMMV. If this novel is on your radar I recommend you check out some more positive reviews. Sonia Nasir, our narrator, is an actress in her late thirties who decides to visit her older sister Haneen in Haifa both to escape tribulations of the heart and, having not visited since the second intifada, to reconnect with her heritage. While Haneen returned to become a teacher, Sonia remained in London to build her acting career. In Haifa, their relationship is uneasy, as their attempts at having meaningful conversations often lead to disagreements and recriminations. As Sonia attempts to form a new understanding of Palestine, she finds herself looking to her past, in particular, a traumatic experience during her adolescence there. Despite Haneen’s lukewarm welcome, Sonia does meet through her Mariam, a director who is working on a production of Hamlet in the West Bank. For all her protestations, and her perplexing not-so-warm feelings toward Mariam, Sonia finds herself travelling to Ramallah with her to play the part of Gertrude. There she meets the other actors, one of whom she is particularly attracted to. Their production however faces many obstacles, from the long drives and alienating checkpoints they have to go through, but they are all too aware of the ever-encroaching possibility of violence, persecution, and oppression at the hands of Israeli authorities. Mariam’s own brother has come under 'suspicion', and her connection to him may pose a danger to their production. However, Mariam, who believes that their play can be a form of resistance, is determined to make the play work, regardless of outside forces and internecine disputes. Before I move on to what I did not like about Enter Ghost, I will mention what was effective: Isabella Hammad manages to give readers both an overview of contemporary Palestine and a more intimate close-up of the everyday experiences of Palestinians who continue to live under oppression. The confusion, uncertainty, and anger felt by many of her characters are rendered with clarity and acuity. I also appreciated the author’s exploration of displacement, (multi)heritage, and the way she is able to convey the confusion and sadness that are specific to feeling, or being made to feel, like an outsider in your own culture. Hammad also shows the divide between Palestinians living ‘inside’ Israel and those in the West Bank, without resorting to easy categorisations. So, when it comes to rendering time and place, Hammad certainly demonstrates a skilled hand. What ultimately made the book a chore was its protagonist, a character that I found improbable, in that her internal monologue was full of anachronism that did not make her into a more realistic character, but an unconvincing actor ("He drew nearer and I shrugged, shrinking with embarrassment and virginity"/"I was ready to be outraged if he kissed me. I imagined his pillowy lips"). That she is under the impression of being this complex and ambiguous person, made her hammy performance all the more egregious. She has so many chips on her shoulder you might as well order an aperitif while you are reading this. I can think of so many books that succeed in portraying the uneasy bond between two sisters who spend a lot of their time bickering and snapping at each other, both of whom believe that the other has had an easier time or is more adjusted than they are, examples being Sunset and Yolk. But here Haneen and Sonia's interactions were stilted in a way that did not seem convincing. That is not me saying that they needed to be close, far from. In fact, I was expecting the narrative to explore how the physical distance between them as well as the diverging paths they took in life caused or contributed to the emotional rift between them. But this didn’t really come through. Their fights just didn’t ring true to me (if they did to you, ben per te) and their dynamic was just underwhelming. And so for the matter was Sonia and Mariam’s ‘friendship’. Sonia spends most of the narrative painting M as being an unpleasant yet fascinating figure, yet, suddenly, we are to believe she cares for her deeply. I never understood her enmity towards Mariam, at one point she describes her as possessing a "straightforward, repugnant, magnetic light"...and it just seemed uncalled for and random to be honest. And the play...I wasn’t expecting chunks of actual Hamlet to make up the narrative but they do. Not only that but the narrative switches to a play/script format more than once even during scenes where the characters are not rehashing. Maybe this will appeal to others readers, but I found this meta choice to be jarring and not particularly suited to the tone of the narrative. Maybe the rehearsals themselves could have been more interesting if the people taking part were fleshed out, but they are not. Early on the author uses actual character introductions in a way that seems a cop-out at actually ‘showing/establishing’ their personalities and personal histories in a more natural way over the course of the narrative. It did not help that Sonia fails to really see most of them as people, especially the two younger men, for who she has some motherly feelings, and she uses to make points about the male ego. It’s a pity that they are not given more of a voice but flattened to fit Sonia and even Mariam's discourses and theories on male youth, masculinity, and rivalries. Very early on Sonia makes a move on of the actors in a way that was cringe and pathetic, but not in a funny or relatable way, but I later on came to understand that Sonia really thinks she is an intriguing figure ("I had a marketably unusual appearance, or so they said"). Being in Sonia’s head was a tiresome affair as I felt mostly annoyed by her self-pitying, her dull observations and assumptions about other people, as well as her painfully cliched love life. I would have liked for the story to remain more focused on Sonia’s relationships with her family, her sister and dad in particular, who are often sidelined in favor of Sonia’s navel-gazing, her career retrospective, her farcical projections, whereby Sonia attributes unconvincing motivations and traits people around her, and flashbacks that are clearly meant to make us feel bad for her. The story slowly inches its way forward with few if any emotionally satisfying beats. The main character, despite her self-dramatizing, is a sulky bore, and the people around her never come into focus. Still, even if I found this novel wanting in terms of storyline and character development, Enter Ghost is not an ‘empty’ read as it is a novel that deals with oppression and revolution, and interrogates nations and identities that are displaced and fragmented. I just wish that the author had not created such a boring and unbelievable character and one who fails so spectacularly to be amusing, insightful, and/or interesting. The story feels drawn out and the prose at times tries to be oblique and complex but succeeds only in unnecessarily over-elaborate. The glimpses into their theatrical production and theatre, in general, tended to be more interesting but were more often than not ruined b Sonia's obnoxious explanations and truisms. A lot of the dialogues were stilted, and even if the characters now and again do say something that is 'convincing', they remain thinly rendered figures. I wish that the author had committed more fully to making Sonia into more of a mystifying and detached figure, but it seemed that she did not fully want to commit to making her into a flawed, destructive even, person. Ironically, her attempts at making us feel bad for Sonia, by showing us that her family left her out of the loop and those times shitty men treated her badly (who could have predicted that), only succeeded in making her into a bland shade of 'unlikeable'. I can't see myself re-reading this in order to see if my not liking this book is a case of right book/wrong time but the occasion might rise where I am stranded on a deserted island and this is the only book at hand... Like I said above, don't take my review to heart given that you may click with Sonia or Hammad's storytelling in a way that I wasn't able to. ...more |
Notes are private!
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1
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Jan 30, 2023
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Jan 31, 2023
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Jan 15, 2023
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Hardcover
| ||||||||||||||
| 0593317580
| 9780593317587
| 0593317580
| 3.60
| 537
| Jun 06, 2023
| Jun 06, 2023
|
it was ok
|
the first few pages are intriguing but boy oh boy this was a mess (of the boring variety). Countries of Origin, a novel exploring the will-they-won't- the first few pages are intriguing but boy oh boy this was a mess (of the boring variety). Countries of Origin, a novel exploring the will-they-won't-they dynamic between two very different men, promised to be, if not quite something in the realms of a queer psychosexual thriller, something in the realms of Christopher Bollen's A Beautiful Crime or Scott Spencer's An Ocean Without a Shore. Demetrio, our narrator, is a 20-something pâtissier who works in New York, where he lives with his uncle Chus. Demetrio's existence is jeopardised by a job offer, one that risks exposing his undocumented status. Fearing deportation, Demetrio sees no choice but to leave 'voluntarily', travels to Madrid. During his flight there he begins chatting with Jacobo, a student from an aristocratic family who persuades Demetrio to come stay with him in Madrid. Jacobo, Demetrio's object of desire, is a painfully boring character whose main characteristic is that he is handsome. We are told the guy is charming, alluring, possibly manipulative, but being told that he is all of these things does not make these things true or actual facets of his persona. Their conversations were awkward, and not in a realistic way, but in a way that seemed strained, unconvincing. Their supposed codependency and love/hate dynamic felt exaggerated and unearned (given that their scenes together did not really succeed in selling their relationship). The novel ends up being all about Demetrio obsessing over this supposedly magnetic guy, yet resenting him becomes of class differences (class differences that are explored with as much nuance as an episode from a soap opera). I am all for tales about seemingly 'normal' people who fall under the spell of more outgoing/successful/mysterious individuals (i mean, barbara vine's the house of stairs is my roman empire), but I have to believe that this person has this irresistible 'aura', and here, well, it was impossible. Jacobo is this rich guy with a convenient sad boi backstory that is meant to make his present-day asshole behaviour sort of okay...but I just never understood how and why our protagonist is drawn to this basic rich-bro-who-thinks-he-is-all-that guy. I found myself more interested in say seeing Demetrio acclimatising to Spain, from every-day things to the working culture. I found myself wanting to learn more about his profession or having more scenes focusing on his new workplace (i admit it, i picked this up soon after watching the bear) but his entire narrative comes to revolve around Jacobo and his family. Countries of Origin turned out to be a surprisingly vanilla portrayal of what was meant to be a tumultuous relationship. The novel's exploration of queerness and masculinity also struck me a shallow. As usual, the opinions above are entirely subjective and if you are interested in reading this novel I recommend you do so regardless of my review. ...more |
Notes are private!
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1
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Jul 24, 2023
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Aug 03, 2023
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Jan 14, 2023
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Hardcover
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| 1984802461
| 9781984802460
| 1984802461
| 3.77
| 1,906
| Apr 11, 2023
| Apr 11, 2023
|
it was ok
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why do authors always feel the need to redeem asshole ppl...anche no. Being a fan of family sagas, interconnected narratives, and nonlinear timelines ( why do authors always feel the need to redeem asshole ppl...anche no. Being a fan of family sagas, interconnected narratives, and nonlinear timelines (eg The Travelers by Regina Porter, LaRose by Louise Erdrich, The Arsonists’ City by Hala Alyan, The Vanishing Half by Brit Bennett, Commonwealth by Ann Patchett) I was keen to read Anissa Gray's Life and Other Love Songs especially since it promised to revolve around family secrets, regret, and guilt. Alas, the novel ultimately focuses almost solely on Oz, at the expense of the other two supposedly major characters, Deborah and Trinity, who are reduced to the role of wife (who is ‘abandoned’) and daughter (whose choices are informed by her daddy issues). Trinity is given barely any page time, we aren’t given a proper glimpse into her childhood or teenage years but we are transported to her life as an adult which not so subtly echoes Oz’s own story (pushing away/hurting the ones you love and all that ‘relatable’ jazz) and is weighed down by her daddy issues. Deborah too is ultimately flattened, at first, into Oz’s object of desire, and later on, to the ‘broken’ woman who can’t get over her first love. Her own ambitions and passions are hinted at but only superficially. Maybe I wouldn’t have minded the predictable turns taken by their storylines if say their relationship to Oz had been portrayed with depth, nuance even….but that’s not the case (of course, my take on this will inevitably differ from other readers’). Anyhow, serious topics, affecting one of these two characters, which include alcoholism, SA, and depression, are depicted in a way that ultimately places Y at the center stage. The novel is in fact not about Deborah or Trinity’s experiences but Oz’s trauma. His big secret leads him to make the poor choices he makes…Deborah’s own traumas are sidelined or made to seem ripples caused by Oz’s much more ‘important’ traumatic past. And I couldn’t help but feel as if the novel was going down the very tired and sexist route where women, who can cry whenever they feel like it, cannot possibly understand a man’s traumas or feelings, which are portrayed as more complex, to the point of being mythologised and mystified. The narrative itself uses Deborah’s own trauma to put Oz in a heroic light….never-mind that he later sabotages the people closest to them. His homophobia and possessiveness are made to seem natural consequences of his boyhood...maybe if we had been given snippets from his mother and brother’s pov we could have had a more encompassing view of his family situation and I would have felt a little bit more sympathetic towards him but as things stand I hated his guts…the story exonerates him from being truly held accountable for his shitty by going down the whole 'self-sacrifice=he was a good person all along' route. Dio mio. This was a chore to read. I was infuriated by Oz, by the way, the story deals with trauma, abuse, and addiction, and by the way the narrative ultimately condones his character’s behavior. YMMV so check out more positive reviews out if this book happens to be on your tbr. ...more |
Notes are private!
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1
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Apr 15, 2023
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Apr 20, 2023
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Dec 01, 2022
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Hardcover
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| 1782278176
| 9781782278177
| 1782278176
| 3.22
| 131
| unknown
| Feb 02, 2023
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it was ok
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❀ blog ❀ thestorygraph ❀ letterboxd ❀ tumblr ❀ ko-fi ❀ A banger of a premise is let-down by sensationalistic storytelling, a banal plot, and a writin ❀ blog ❀ thestorygraph ❀ letterboxd ❀ tumblr ❀ ko-fi ❀ A banger of a premise is let-down by sensationalistic storytelling, a banal plot, and a writing style that for all its attempts to be gritty & edgy comes across as laughable. Worst still, the narrative seems under the impression that it is doing a lot, in terms of unconventional female characters and challenging simplistic representations of women. Ironically the novel’s portrayal of a female character who is presented as someone who we should see as empowering and irreverent seemed very male-gazey. Had I not known the author, I would have assumed her to be the classic product of a male author who thinks he is single-handedly breaking the mold in terms of fictional women by presenting us with a beautiful, clever, and manipulative young woman who is able to maintain an expensive lifestyle through sex work. And she also has a girlfriend, who is just as sexy, and they sometimes work together because tee-hee their clients don’t realize that they really do enjoy having sex with each other. But before my rant continues, I will give an outline of the story: set in Brazil the first chapters follow Lucinda, who has long felt overshadowed by her younger sister, Vivi. Vivi works as a model, not a particularly famous one given the colorism rampant in this sector, and seems to lead a fairly glamorous existence. The two sisters are not particularly close but when Lucinda learns that Vivi has gone missing on a trip to São Paulo, she immediately tries to track her down. The police do not seem particularly concerned or competent enough to do anything about it so Lucinda has to rely on her barely-there-investigative skills. She gets some help from vivi's girlfriend Graziane, and soon discovers that they were both sex workers. This makes Vivi’s disappearance all the more concerning as she could have been taken by one of her clients. We also get chapters with Graziane, who, other than being white & stunning, does not have a semblance of personality. Later we also get to follow Vivi herself, as she tries to survive and outsmart her captors. Her chapters were the most risible of the lot. If you like the writing of Alex Michaelides or the duo Greer Hendricks and Sarah Pekkanen , I can maybe see her chapters working for you. I however found this type of writing utterly ludicrous. Worst even that having to follow Vivi directly, are her smutty book/journal entries. Such as: “My monster’s insides writhed languidly, wanting more”, “I offer up my fingers as a sacrifice and feel the hungry creature devouring them until it’s satisfied”, Lucinda believes will be a bestseller…se, ciao. To me, Vivi’s writing was beyond garbage. Maybe if it had been more campy and self-aware, as opposed to trying and failing to be erotic and real, when it was anything but, I could have coped with them…but as things stand, Vivi’s writing is beyond cringe. Lucinda initially seems like a bit more of an interesting take on the very much tired dynamic of the two sisters or bff where the one who is charming & magnetic goes missing or dies, and the more conventional and boring one is left behind. Lucinda does muay thai, and that’s about the only interesting thing about her. Her character, similarly to Graziane, besides her physical appearance, is not at all fleshed out. The characters in this book are incredibly cliched and often verge on stereotyping. Why did the author have to make Vivi, who cannot help being cold and intelligent, ‘autistic’? Why adopt a male-gazey lens to depict sex work and an f/f relationship? Why are all the men more or less the same shade of bad? Why rely on so many sensationalistic plot points and scenes? While I did find the narrative’s take on female empowerment and its exploration of sex work and male-perpetuated violence against women flashy and shallow; these are realities that deserve to be portrayed with depth and nuance, not to make your characters into #edgygirlbosses. Vivi is a walking talking cliche. From her various ‘personas’, from the ‘party girl’ who she describes in a way that seemed to me an embarrassing take on Amy Dunne’s ‘cool girl monologue’: “How to define the character who gets me places in life: the party girl? It’s like that Sia song, the one that begins ‘Party girls don’t get hurt.’ But not the depressing bit, the positive bit. […] sheìs well-travelled, she’s cool, never a downer […] she’ll open her mouth and sing […] almost like a geisha and her shamisen” (dare i say, making your neurodivergent character quote a sia song...it's a choice that did not age well). But she also has a quirky side, almost a la Manic Pixie Dream Girl, because she reads comics and speaks “a little Japanese” from “watching too much anime” and “invents her own fashion. Paperclips as earrings […] dungarees and clogs”. But wait, you say, Vivi’s characterisation is intentional. Lucinda reminds us that she may be this way because of an intentional act/effect on her sister’s part: “‘I’m a weirdo girl’ thing. Hiding in plain sight with her glittery Nomi Malone-Sailor Moon”...which may as well be but to describe it this way makes it risible. Vivi’s chapters also try hard to impress on us that she really is super edgy and built differently. Her pov is so affected as to be entirely OTT in a story that tries to be gritty & real: “It’s so unfair. I never asked to be this self-conscious”. Rather than allowing us to see Vivi, and to realize why she may behave/seem as she does, we are told straight-up: “I know that my apparent lack of interest in everything around me can appear to come from pure coldness. But I’m not trying to appear cold and distant, nor do I take pleasure from it’”. Her inner monologue was painfully studied and not at all convincing. The narrative's attempts at self-awareness when it comes to female characters and how many women have learnt social strategies to adapt to socially accepted gender norms made its shortcomings all the more glaring. Although we are told that Vivi and Graziane are in a relationship and care about one another I did not buy them together. Their moments together or the passages detailing their relationship conform to your straight man’s feitish-y vision of wlw. The way their scenes were written ranged from icky to strangely mechanical: “But what really sealed the deal was when Vivi went home with her and gave her that wonderful oral. Graziane often tried to repay her with her best technique”, “The two of them were symbiotically in love. Any time they were in the same city, no matter how exhausted from their respective appointments each always ready to spoil the other with an orgasm, one woman totally focused on the other” (that last line…dajeeee). In comparison, the narrative’s depiction of microaggressions as well as its examination of sexual harassment, racism, and colorisms seemed to be far more grounded in reality. I just wish that the author could have maintained that level of sobriety and uncompromising realism when delving touching upon other serious subject matters. The setting was rendered fairly well but I did grow tired of the narration having to really emphasize certain things in a way that failed to be nostalgic and just seemed very much a la ‘back in my day’. For instance: “It was 1998 . People still thought CDs”...And some places are described simplistically, especially in Vivi’s novel/journal: Dubai is “very masculine” and “very Arabian Nights, only with technology”, men love going there because their “pricks feel a mile long”. There were several passages discussing porn and making very generalised pronouncements on young men vs. older men. I also found myself questioning many descriptions, such as “His chest was also brown, but from the sun, not naturally. It was also shaved: he must have been a swimmer. Or a rent boy.” Or having a character wondering whether a male character has feelings for another man she can’t just say that, she has to add: “Brokeback Mountain kind of thing”. The novel’s trying to be gritty tone did not mesh together with the overdramatized storyline and affected the writing style. These kinds of one-note characters might have worked better in a noir, but their tumblresque way of speaking would have still come across as farcical. Maybe if the narrative had really leaned into being playfully absurd, a la Mona Awad, or more entertaining, a la Oyinkan Braithwaite, maybe then I would have bought into the silly and pulpy writing and exaggerated characters. It seemed like Campos was trying to be something dark and heavy-going along the lines of something by Gillian Flynn, but then ended up being closer to Victoria Helen Stone's Jane Doe or Colleen Hoover's Verity. If you happen to like those novels, chances are you will like Campos' Nothing Can Hurt You Now. But if you are looking for a psychological thriller or a more nuanced exploration of sex work, sisterhood, and violence, like in Liz Moore's Long Bright River, you might want to give Nothing Can Hurt You Now a wide berth. ...more |
Notes are private!
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1
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Dec 13, 2022
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Dec 16, 2022
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Oct 04, 2022
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Hardcover
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luce (cry baby)
>
Books:
6-not-my-cup-of-tea
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my rating |
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| 3.81
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it was ok
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Feb 06, 2013
not set
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Sep 27, 2024
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| 3.84
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did not like it
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Aug 31, 2014
not set
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Sep 20, 2024
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| 4.08
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it was ok
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Mar 05, 2024
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Mar 01, 2024
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| 3.59
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it was ok
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Mar 10, 2024
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Feb 22, 2024
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| 3.97
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it was ok
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Feb 27, 2024
|
Jan 09, 2024
|
|||||
|
| 3.49
|
it was ok
|
Jan 30, 2024
|
Jan 03, 2024
|
|||||
|
| 4.10
|
it was ok
|
Jan 29, 2024
|
Jan 02, 2024
|
|||||
|
| 4.24
|
it was ok
|
Jan 08, 2024
|
Jan 01, 2024
|
|||||
|
| 3.65
|
it was ok
|
Dec 18, 2023
|
Dec 14, 2023
|
|||||
|
| 4.15
|
it was ok
|
Mar 18, 2024
|
Sep 13, 2023
|
|||||
|
| 3.84
|
not set
|
Sep 05, 2023
|
||||||
|
| 3.37
|
it was ok
|
Dec 21, 2023
|
Aug 27, 2023
|
|||||
|
| 3.70
|
it was ok
|
Sep 07, 2023
|
Aug 22, 2023
|
|||||
|
| 3.20
|
it was ok
|
Jun 2023
|
Mar 01, 2023
|
|||||
|
| 3.55
|
it was ok
|
May 17, 2023
|
Feb 10, 2023
|
|||||
|
| 3.55
|
it was ok
|
Sep 14, 2023
|
Jan 15, 2023
|
|||||
|
| 4.09
|
it was ok
|
Jan 31, 2023
|
Jan 15, 2023
|
|||||
|
| 3.60
|
it was ok
|
Aug 03, 2023
|
Jan 14, 2023
|
|||||
|
| 3.77
|
it was ok
|
Apr 20, 2023
|
Dec 01, 2022
|
|||||
|
| 3.22
|
it was ok
|
Dec 16, 2022
|
Oct 04, 2022
|
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