The Gargoyle by Andrew Davidson, reviewed by Steve on September 23rd, 2008.
Andrew Davidson's debut novel tells the story of an unnamed narrator, whose career as a male-pornstar has filled him with selfish pride and cynicism. Our narrator gets behind the wheel while high on cocaine and drunk on bourbon and swerves off a cliff, thinking he was dodging a flight of flaming arrows.
As the car crashes to the bottom of the ravine, a fire starts and rapidly spreads throughout the car, immolating the narrator, who is trapped in his seat. Somehow, help arrives, and the narrator awakens in a hospital burn unit, where he undergoes various burn treatments. While there, a mysterious former psych-ward patient visits him and talks with him. Her name is Marianne Engel, and she claims that she and the narrator were lovers once in medieval Germany.
Slowly, as the narrator begins the healing process, he finds himself at once believing and questioning the validity of Marianne's stories. Nonetheless, there is both an attraction and a sense of impotence, as the narrator questions how a woman could possibly love one such as he. His sense of self is effectively shattered: pride, ego, and vanity no longer have a place. But just as the narrator starts to come to love someone other than himself, Marianne tells him that her time is near and she will soon have to leave.
For a debut novel, this work is stunning. Not in the "will impact your life forevermore" sense, but nonetheless, the novel leaves you wanting more. Part Chuck Palahniuk, part Catcher in the Rye, Davidson's style is feverishly lucid and flirts with dark humor. His analogies and metaphors do not necessarily score many points on the literary scale, but they are clever and poignant all the same. One example is where the narrator observes, "A cheese strand dangled from her mouth to the edge of her nipple, and I wanted to rappel it like a mozzarella commando to storm her lovely breasts." Not exactly a touching, sentimental, or "high-literary" metaphor, but it's appeal is in its in-your-face grittiness; a sort of literary nod to punkdom.
In regards to characterization, Andrew Davidson nicely wraps the readers interest around his main characters: namely, the narrator, and Marianne Engel, but also the doctors, physical therapist, and Marianne's agent, all of whom seem very authentic and real. Our narrator is credible--sort of. He does not lie perhaps as outright as Holden Caulfield, but what he says must be taken with a grain of salt. He is, after all, a self-admitted addict and a selfish chauvinist to boot.
Another admirable trait to this novel is that we experience the story through the eyes of the narrator, who cannot confirm Marianne's story, but cannot deny it or discredit it either. As such, the reader is more or less invited to interpret as he/she will. There is ample evidence to suggest that what Marianne says is true, and just as much to say that she is delusional. What matters, though, is what the narrator came away with. Regardless as to whether or not he believes Marianne, he was touched; he was reformed; he did fall in love.
Like the other debut novel I've read this summer (The Tale of Edgar Sawtelle by David Wroblewski) I do have some quibbles about the ending to this novel. I shall not give anything away, but the end felt rather flat and anticlimactic. I think more could have been done with the ending than what Andrew Davidson chose to do. I was disappointed that I had ventured through this tumultuous rollercoaster ride with the narrator only to find that there was no grand finale. The ride simply stopped.
All told, I very much enjoyed the novel. The pacing was fast, intense, and Davidson held my interest all the way through. The characters interested me, the themes and motifs intrigued me, and I would highly recommend the novel. I would rate this a 4 out of 5 stars.
Cheers,
Steve
Tuesday, September 23, 2008
Rejected Much?
The First Five Pages: A Writer's Guide to Staying Out of the Rejection Pile by Noah Lukeman. Reviewed by N. Vivian 09/22/08
Received, read, and finished the book within a day. It is excellent; not only is it helpful and informative, I even found it mildly entertaining. It's divided into 19 chapters, and each chapter focuses on problems that catch an agent's or an editor's eye and cause them to toss the manuscript, generally before having read much more than the first five pages. The chapters are arranged in order of likelihood of getting your manuscript rejected, and so, it starts off with very concrete ideas and rules, and as each chapter goes on, the ideas and advice get more theoretical. Chapter One is about presentation; granted, the kind of paper your manuscript on has no bearing on the quality of the work itself, but a lot of editors won't look at it anyway. As Lukeman says, editors (and their overworked assistants) have to plow through thousands of manuscripts, and are just looking for reasons to toss yours out of the window. Refusing to comply with industry standards is a quick and easy way for them to justify it. Also in the first chapter, he mentions the idea of researching the agents and editors you're sending your manuscript to, and sending it only to people who work with titles like yours--sure, you might lose out because the editor just picked up a book similar to yours, but sending a horror manuscript to a horror editor still gives you a higher chance getting accepted than sending a horror novel to a romance editor. Chapter 2 is about the abuse of adjectives and adverbs, 3 about the way your manuscript 'sounds', and on and on until Chapter 19, which discusses progression and pace. If your book hasn't been rejected by any of the reasons outlined in the first 18 chapters, then you're probably golden.
Lukeman gives examples about all the issues he discusses, so you can see exactly what is wrong with the problem under discussion, though he doesn't go very deep into fixing those issues (especially as he gets more metaphysical). Sure, Chapter 1 explains exactly what your margins should be (an easy fix), but it's much harder to give specific advice on appropriate story hooks (Chapter 14) or subtlety (Chapter 15). Still, he points out the problems, making them easy to spot in your manuscript, and he admits up front in his book that this is a "Don't Do" rather than a "How To" book. If you can see that you have a specific problem, you can go out an buy a ton of books related to that issue. He does give exercises to do at the end of each chapter, most of which involve sitting down with your manuscript and going over it with a fine tooth comb. I've tried a few with my Nanowrimo project, and they did seem to help.
In all, a good book. It won't tell you how to write your novel, or give you the magic best-seller formula, or even be able to fix a manuscript that's just hopeless, but it does give you a lot of tools to make it better. I'd recommend it to anyone who wants to get published. I found it so helpful, I went out and bought another one of his "how to get published" books.
5 stars
In books I trust,
Nu
Received, read, and finished the book within a day. It is excellent; not only is it helpful and informative, I even found it mildly entertaining. It's divided into 19 chapters, and each chapter focuses on problems that catch an agent's or an editor's eye and cause them to toss the manuscript, generally before having read much more than the first five pages. The chapters are arranged in order of likelihood of getting your manuscript rejected, and so, it starts off with very concrete ideas and rules, and as each chapter goes on, the ideas and advice get more theoretical. Chapter One is about presentation; granted, the kind of paper your manuscript on has no bearing on the quality of the work itself, but a lot of editors won't look at it anyway. As Lukeman says, editors (and their overworked assistants) have to plow through thousands of manuscripts, and are just looking for reasons to toss yours out of the window. Refusing to comply with industry standards is a quick and easy way for them to justify it. Also in the first chapter, he mentions the idea of researching the agents and editors you're sending your manuscript to, and sending it only to people who work with titles like yours--sure, you might lose out because the editor just picked up a book similar to yours, but sending a horror manuscript to a horror editor still gives you a higher chance getting accepted than sending a horror novel to a romance editor. Chapter 2 is about the abuse of adjectives and adverbs, 3 about the way your manuscript 'sounds', and on and on until Chapter 19, which discusses progression and pace. If your book hasn't been rejected by any of the reasons outlined in the first 18 chapters, then you're probably golden.
Lukeman gives examples about all the issues he discusses, so you can see exactly what is wrong with the problem under discussion, though he doesn't go very deep into fixing those issues (especially as he gets more metaphysical). Sure, Chapter 1 explains exactly what your margins should be (an easy fix), but it's much harder to give specific advice on appropriate story hooks (Chapter 14) or subtlety (Chapter 15). Still, he points out the problems, making them easy to spot in your manuscript, and he admits up front in his book that this is a "Don't Do" rather than a "How To" book. If you can see that you have a specific problem, you can go out an buy a ton of books related to that issue. He does give exercises to do at the end of each chapter, most of which involve sitting down with your manuscript and going over it with a fine tooth comb. I've tried a few with my Nanowrimo project, and they did seem to help.
In all, a good book. It won't tell you how to write your novel, or give you the magic best-seller formula, or even be able to fix a manuscript that's just hopeless, but it does give you a lot of tools to make it better. I'd recommend it to anyone who wants to get published. I found it so helpful, I went out and bought another one of his "how to get published" books.
5 stars
In books I trust,
Nu
Sunday, September 7, 2008
Lassie + Hamlet= The Story of Edgar Sawtelle
The Story of Edgar Sawtelle by David Wrobleski, reviewed by Steve on 9/7/2008
David Wrobleski's debut novel has received much literary attention, and has been touted by some, such as O Magazine, as being a modern-day classic.
The novel tells the tale of a boy named Edgar Sawtelle, who is born a mute in 1970's Wisconsin. His family is renowned for their legendary breed of dogs, known only as Sawtelle Dogs, which they have been breeding for generations. Edgar's parents, Gar and Trudy, have continued the Sawtelle Dog program and raise Edgar to do the same. Though Edgar cannot speak, a unique sign language develops between himself, his parents, and the dogs, all of whom understand Edgar remarkably well.
As the story progresses with Edgar's upbringing and dog-training, the idyllic setting is usurped by Edgar's uncle, Claude. A former Navy man, Claude has never been part of Edgar's life until he shows up to the Sawtelle farm looking for work and Gar reluctantly acquiesces. It gradually becomes clear to Edgar that there is an underlying tension between Gar and his brother Claude, and this begins to manifest itself ever more clearly and violently, until it comes to a head with a murder.
Edgar is forced to flee the once tranquil farm and plunge into the Wisconsin wilderness with three of the Sawtelle dogs. Edgar's escape is troubled by more than just the police pursuit, and he finds himself alternating between hunting, gathering, and stealing to survive. Though he manages to elude his pursuers and sever his ties from home, a sense of homesickness pervades Edgar and he longs to return to his old life back on the farm. After months away from the Sawtelle farm, Edgar ventures homeward with a renewed sense of purpose and retribution, which can only bring devastation, but is nonetheless irresistible.
David Wrobleski's novel is perhaps best described as being elaborate. Elements from Shakespeare merge with Sophocles with a healthy dose of Lassie and Old Yeller thrown into the mix, and the narrative is articulated with poetic precision and infused with both a Romantic awe for the natural world and the desire to explore it, a la James Fenimore Cooper.
Of particular strength is Wrobleski's description and characterization of the Sawtelle dogs, who seem to have a deep spiritual and philosophical understanding of humanity. One of the most memorable characters of the novel is Almodine, Edgar's first dog, who raised him just as much as his human mother, Trudy. Almodine, always loyal, ever graceful, serves Edgar with the same sense of selflessness and dedication as Samwise Gamgee does for Frodo in The Lord of the Rings.
As a novel, I would rate this at a 3 on the 1-5 scale. I did enjoy reading it, but there are large sections of the narrative that get bogged down and do not seem to serve any real purpose for the story. Additionally, I felt that while Wrobleski suggested a sort of higher spirituality for the Sawtelle dogs, he did not go as far with that idea as I thought he would. This aspect is largely a matter of opinion, but I thought that much more could have been done with the dogs and their role within the story.
What was most disappointing to me was the end of the novel, which seemed far too cold and tragic. I suppose that if the author was modelling his plot upon Hamlet or Oedipus Rex, the conclusion cannot be anything other than tragic. Yet in doing this, the richness and spirituality as evoked by the Sawtelle Dogs is largely sacrificed, and I was left uncertain what the meaning of this sign now meant. Was it that the human condition is inevitably tragic? Are humans doomed to cause harm, having only momentary blips of benevolence? In the same way that Huck Finn's ending is both troubling and ambiguous, so too is the conclusion to The Story of Edgar Sawtelle.
Regardless, it was a good read overall; I did enjoy reading the novel and I would recommend it to others, especially those who love dogs.
Cheers,
Steve
David Wrobleski's debut novel has received much literary attention, and has been touted by some, such as O Magazine, as being a modern-day classic.
The novel tells the tale of a boy named Edgar Sawtelle, who is born a mute in 1970's Wisconsin. His family is renowned for their legendary breed of dogs, known only as Sawtelle Dogs, which they have been breeding for generations. Edgar's parents, Gar and Trudy, have continued the Sawtelle Dog program and raise Edgar to do the same. Though Edgar cannot speak, a unique sign language develops between himself, his parents, and the dogs, all of whom understand Edgar remarkably well.
As the story progresses with Edgar's upbringing and dog-training, the idyllic setting is usurped by Edgar's uncle, Claude. A former Navy man, Claude has never been part of Edgar's life until he shows up to the Sawtelle farm looking for work and Gar reluctantly acquiesces. It gradually becomes clear to Edgar that there is an underlying tension between Gar and his brother Claude, and this begins to manifest itself ever more clearly and violently, until it comes to a head with a murder.
Edgar is forced to flee the once tranquil farm and plunge into the Wisconsin wilderness with three of the Sawtelle dogs. Edgar's escape is troubled by more than just the police pursuit, and he finds himself alternating between hunting, gathering, and stealing to survive. Though he manages to elude his pursuers and sever his ties from home, a sense of homesickness pervades Edgar and he longs to return to his old life back on the farm. After months away from the Sawtelle farm, Edgar ventures homeward with a renewed sense of purpose and retribution, which can only bring devastation, but is nonetheless irresistible.
David Wrobleski's novel is perhaps best described as being elaborate. Elements from Shakespeare merge with Sophocles with a healthy dose of Lassie and Old Yeller thrown into the mix, and the narrative is articulated with poetic precision and infused with both a Romantic awe for the natural world and the desire to explore it, a la James Fenimore Cooper.
Of particular strength is Wrobleski's description and characterization of the Sawtelle dogs, who seem to have a deep spiritual and philosophical understanding of humanity. One of the most memorable characters of the novel is Almodine, Edgar's first dog, who raised him just as much as his human mother, Trudy. Almodine, always loyal, ever graceful, serves Edgar with the same sense of selflessness and dedication as Samwise Gamgee does for Frodo in The Lord of the Rings.
As a novel, I would rate this at a 3 on the 1-5 scale. I did enjoy reading it, but there are large sections of the narrative that get bogged down and do not seem to serve any real purpose for the story. Additionally, I felt that while Wrobleski suggested a sort of higher spirituality for the Sawtelle dogs, he did not go as far with that idea as I thought he would. This aspect is largely a matter of opinion, but I thought that much more could have been done with the dogs and their role within the story.
What was most disappointing to me was the end of the novel, which seemed far too cold and tragic. I suppose that if the author was modelling his plot upon Hamlet or Oedipus Rex, the conclusion cannot be anything other than tragic. Yet in doing this, the richness and spirituality as evoked by the Sawtelle Dogs is largely sacrificed, and I was left uncertain what the meaning of this sign now meant. Was it that the human condition is inevitably tragic? Are humans doomed to cause harm, having only momentary blips of benevolence? In the same way that Huck Finn's ending is both troubling and ambiguous, so too is the conclusion to The Story of Edgar Sawtelle.
Regardless, it was a good read overall; I did enjoy reading the novel and I would recommend it to others, especially those who love dogs.
Cheers,
Steve
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