I think this book had a lot of really interesting ideas and the prose was really solid and often quite beautiful. It struggled to cohere all of these ideas into a consistent narrative - it ultimately left me lost and a little confused.
Oh hell yes this is the kind of book I absolutely devour.
While I think a cynical reader could describe this as lesbian Forrest Gump, the incredible metafictional depth of Lacey's world and characters is so astonishing that it exceeds most of the "great (wo)man" narratives we see so often. In addition to its peers (Lote, Savage Theories, Greenland, After Sappho), this book is in good company with earlier postmodern works of those like Nabokov and Marquez - namely in how X's narrative and C's parallel narrative is incredibly seductive while cleverly obscuring and redirecting some absolutely foul behavior and thinking. Lots and lots to write about this but go read it now!
A bit disappointed with this. For a story so focused on narratives and fiction and the ways they blend and shape our reality, it was incredibly un-writerly. Not much engagement with texts, madness, myth, queerness, capitalism, hauntings - all the impulses driving the plot forward.
If this were made into an HBO miniseries I'd watch it in a heartbeat!
Eek!! So spooky scary I adored it. This novel was the absolute perfect length and plotting for the story it was telling. I'm especially drawn to the differences of age between each of the major characters and the ways in which their age affects their perception, priorities, language, etc.
Fascinating to see how ghost stories form on the ghosts' side of things.
Always love to see Appalachian literature that highlights the depth and complexity of the region and the people who call it home! I really appreciate Clapsaddle's careful depiction of late adolescence/early adulthood and the constant struggles for an identity and sense of self that characterize that age.
I wish the historical context were explored a bit more. I couldn't quite match up much of the thematic and narrative pulses of the novel with its background and setting, unfortunately.
One of those books that I read and I know immediately will be studied and taught for decades and will come to define the literature of the early 21st century. There's so much to be said about hauntings (especially on my mind right now), the long shadow of slavery in the prison system, and the war on drugs and mass incarceration.
I'm especially drawn to ecological interpretations of what is essentially a road novel. It's incredibly interesting to see the ways in which car culture and dependence on oil (from the literal movement of the car to Michael's former job at Deepwater Horizon) intersect with police violence, systemic racism, and rural southern poverty. The constant non-human animal metaphors and the blending of natural with spiritual landscapes makes this a wonderfully wonderfully deep text.
A little disappointing on the whole, especially seeing the extensive citation of Saidiya Hartman in the acknowledgments. One of the things that makes speculative fabulation so brilliant is the capacity to illuminate the stories of those mutilated and plastered over by the archives, using storytelling to push back and heal against this mutilation.
This book's work really only focused on those who have been vindicated by the archives - the brilliant writers and early feminists who have been the subject of countless scholarly evaluations. And in doing so, the author glossed over much of the less savory aspects of these people's lives and ideologies. Overall, a relatively straight approach to historical queerness.
I don't think this is as strong of a work as Mumbo Jumbo or Yellow Back Radio. The disjointed narrative was a bit too disjointed, and the satirical cultural elements were a little too satirical (bordering on South Park style centrism). The prose was often very bouncy and wiggly in a wonderful way though. Definitely a minor work in Reed's oeuvre.
This was recommended by Marlon James and I can very clearly see the influence of this on Brief History.
This seems like the kind of novel that people will be quick to refer to as "surreal" or a "fever dream" but with the exception of a few dream sequences, I think Hagedorn keeps her depiction of the Phillipines starkly real, almost hyperreal. The way she uses structural and genre fragmentation to portray her home as a place divided up by foreign influence leading to domestic turmoil still remains incredibly relevant and helpful for understanding financial and cultural imperialism nowadays.