Wednesday, May 20, 2009

In which I attempt a semi-critical review of a book by an author I admire

Oh, those first 50 pages! Spectacular. Not just because of the crazy-beautiful writing, and the dare-you-to-stay-with-me portrayal of a raw, ugly situation, but because I was really and truly convinced that I was inside Liga's head.

As the novel expanded to encompass more lives, I found myself less entranced. It wasn't the difficult but brilliant language choices; it wasn't the raunchy but highly original portrayal of bears; it wasn't the shifting multiple viewpoints. All of that, I admired and appreciated as gutsy literary choices. It was simply that the human heart of it got lost for me after we left Liga, and I never found it again. Really, I would've gone anywhere with that girl and wanted to.

More than that, I wonder about the novel's intended effect on me. Living with the truth is a classic theme in YA, and a good one. It's touted on the back cover as being this book's theme. But to me, Tender Morsels seems to be about brutality---literally, the brutes inside us. I didn't realize that until the "revenge" scene, which was so beastly that I wondered if the point of it was to show us what our ugliest inner thoughts look like when turned into reality. If so, Lanagan succeeds, and I felt like crap afterwards. But maybe, as I should. We are all brutal, even the best of us, as Branza, the "golden daughter," shows when she savagely bites someone. I don't know.

All I know is that I feel like a "tender morsel" who was just eaten by this book. Lanagan is wickedly talented, and seems to be fearless. I will read what she writes. But I'm going to reserve the right not to like it. 

Absolutely guaranteed to make for a passionate book club discussion.

4 comments:

  1. I just finished her collection of short stories, Black Juice, and I agree that Lanagan is a brilliant writer. But the stories were so dense, and dark, that I felt like more than one a month was too hard to take. Like eating a rich, chocolate cake, and nothing else, for a solid week. Good, but too heavy.

    It's made me worry about picking up Tender Morsels because I feel like I'm not going to enjoy it unless I'm in the absolutely perfect mood.

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  2. David, I still have chills when I think of the clown story in Black Juice. I really loved that collection, and I think the fact that I could read it in short bits helped me process the darkness and density. White Time was a bit less effective for me, and I haven't dared Red Spikes yet. But I will.

    As for Tender Morsels, I'm not sure anyone should enjoy it. What's brilliant is brilliant, and again, I think she means to and does disturb the universe in all the dangerous ways a writer can. (Yes, I'm responding to your post about "where are the dangerous writers?" a bit late.) I can't stop thinking about certain scenes, which is the hallmark of a great book. But I can't say I "liked" it or that I thought her transition from short stories to novels was completely effective.

    Her work demands I respond honestly to it, so I've tried. But I can't encapsulate the whole of my thoughts. I'll be interested to hear yours once you find the right time to approach this.

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  3. Oh, someone reminded me that this is NOT her first novel. So that should be MY transition from her short stories to her novels...

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  4. I've only read RED SPIKES and this. I think she can turn a phrase beautifully, and overall I liked this, but I get what you're saying. I guess I shouldn't say more, because Eisha and I are planning to co-review it. If that co-review never gels (which might happen, since I tagged her way back and I absolutely HAD to turn the book in the other day and am starting to forget things), I'll come back and comment.

    I do think it was like reading two or three different books, disguised as one.

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