RADIOMEN

Name: RADIOMEN
Author: Eleanor Lerman
ISBN: 978-1-57962-383-8

by Eleanor Lerman ‧ RELEASE DATE: Jan. 31, 2015

Without a streamlined plot to push it along, Lerman’s novel feels torn between relishing the fun of its more outlandish...

bookshelf

Combining curiously disparate elements including radios, dogs, aliens and a religious cult, poet Lerman (Strange Life, 2014, etc.) pulls together a novel about a woman rediscovering how to find interest in her own life.

Laurie Perzin is a middle-aged bartender who lives in Queens and works long nights at Kennedy airport. She plods through an unremarkable, routine-bound life, having no close family and a well-honed skill of avoiding things she would prefer not to think about, including a strange childhood memory of a mysterious encounter with “the radioman.” When Laurie was 6, she met a featureless, shadowy figure while listening to her uncle’s homemade radio; after she spends years pretending the meeting was a dream, it sets off a sequence of strange events that drags Laurie into the company of a radio host, a psychic, an unusual dog and the leader of a religious cult that believes aliens—including Laurie’s radioman—are destined to bring humans to enlightenment. The novel begins slowly, indulging in numerous scenes of Laurie’s normal life that force the reader to accompany her through mundane commutes and dissatisfactions that fall flat as an effort to portray character and seem at odds with the many fascinating details that Lerman lavishes on radios and radio history. Once all the characters and elements come into place, the story picks up momentum and grows into its oddball components, though the only characters who develop a believable solidity are Laurie and a dog she acquires under strange circumstances and names Digitaria after a star that may or may not have alien connections.

Without a streamlined plot to push it along, Lerman’s novel feels torn between relishing the fun of its more outlandish components and clutching at an adult refusal of wonder.

Pub Date: Jan. 31, 2015

ISBN: 978-1-57962-383-8

Page Count: 288

Publisher: Permanent Press

Review Posted Online: Nov. 5, 2014

Kirkus Reviews Issue: Nov. 15, 2014

Categories:

LITERARY FICTION

- BOOK REVIEW
SLIM BLUE UNIVERSE
by Eleanor Lerman

- BOOK REVIEW
THE GAME CAFÉ
by Eleanor Lerman

- BOOK REVIEW
SATELLITE STREET
by Eleanor Lerman

bookshelf

HOUSE OF LEAVES

by Mark Z. Danielewski ‧ RELEASE DATE: March 6, 2000

The story's very ambiguity steadily feeds its mysteriousness and power, and Danielewski's mastery of postmodernist and...

bookshelf

An amazingly intricate and ambitious first novel - ten years in the making - that puts an engrossing new spin on the traditional haunted-house tale.

Texts within texts, preceded by intriguing introductory material and followed by 150 pages of appendices and related "documents" and photographs, tell the story of a mysterious old house in a Virginia suburb inhabited by esteemed photographer-filmmaker Will Navidson, his companion Karen Green (an ex-fashion model), and their young children Daisy and Chad. The record of their experiences therein is preserved in Will's film The Davidson Record - which is the subject of an unpublished manuscript left behind by a (possibly insane) old man, Frank Zampano - which falls into the possession of Johnny Truant, a drifter who has survived an abusive childhood and the perverse possessiveness of his mad mother (who is institutionalized). As Johnny reads Zampano's manuscript, he adds his own (autobiographical) annotations to the scholarly ones that already adorn and clutter the text (a trick perhaps influenced by David Foster Wallace's Infinite Jest) - and begins experiencing panic attacks and episodes of disorientation that echo with ominous precision the content of Davidson's film (their house's interior proves, "impossibly," to be larger than its exterior; previously unnoticed doors and corridors extend inward inexplicably, and swallow up or traumatize all who dare to "explore" their recesses). Danielewski skillfully manipulates the reader's expectations and fears, employing ingeniously skewed typography, and throwing out hints that the house's apparent malevolence may be related to the history of the Jamestown colony, or to Davidson's Pulitzer Prize-winning photograph of a dying Vietnamese child stalked by a waiting vulture. Or, as "some critics [have suggested,] the house's mutations reflect the psychology of anyone who enters it."

The story's very ambiguity steadily feeds its mysteriousness and power, and Danielewski's mastery of postmodernist and cinema-derived rhetoric up the ante continuously, and stunningly. One of the most impressive excursions into the supernatural in many a year.

Pub Date: March 6, 2000

ISBN: 0-375-70376-4

Page Count: 704

Publisher: Pantheon

Review Posted Online: May 19, 2010

Kirkus Reviews Issue: Feb. 1, 2000

Categories:

LITERARY FICTION

- BOOK REVIEW
THE LITTLE BLUE KITE
by Mark Z. Danielewski

- BOOK REVIEW
HADES
by Mark Z. Danielewski

- BOOK REVIEW
HONEYSUCKLE & PAIN
by Mark Z. Danielewski

bookshelf

THE SECRET HISTORY

by Donna Tartt ‧ RELEASE DATE: Sept. 16, 1992

bookshelf

The Brat Pack meets The Bacchae in this precious, way-too-long, and utterly unsuspenseful town-and-gown murder tale. A bunch of ever-so-mandarin college kids in a small Vermont school are the eager epigones of an aloof classics professor, and in their exclusivity and snobbishness and eagerness to please their teacher, they are moved to try to enact Dionysian frenzies in the woods. During the only one that actually comes off, a local farmer happens upon them—and they kill him. But the death isn't ruled a murder—and might never have been if one of the gang—a cadging sybarite named Bunny Corcoran—hadn't shown signs of cracking under the secret's weight. And so he too is dispatched. The narrator, a blank-slate Californian named Richard Pepen chronicles the coverup. But if you're thinking remorse-drama, conscience masque, or even semi-trashy who'll-break-first? page-turner, forget it: This is a straight gee-whiz, first-to-have-ever-noticed college novel—"Hampden College, as a body, was always strangely prone to hysteria. Whether from isolation, malice, or simple boredom, people there were far more credulous and excitable than educated people are generally thought to be, and this hermetic, overheated atmosphere made it a thriving black petri dish of melodrama and distortion." First-novelist Tartt goes muzzy when she has to describe human confrontations (the murder, or sex, or even the ping-ponging of fear), and is much more comfortable in transcribing aimless dorm-room paranoia or the TV shows that the malefactors anesthetize themselves with as fate ticks down. By telegraphing the murders, Tartt wants us to be continually horrified at these kids—while inviting us to semi-enjoy their manneristic fetishes and refined tastes. This ersatz-Fitzgerald mix of moralizing and mirror-looking (Jay McInerney shook and poured the shaker first) is very 80's—and in Tartt's strenuous version already seems dated, formulaic. Les Nerds du Mal—and about as deep (if not nearly as involving) as a TV movie.