Next book

WHITE DARKNESS

Salinger (Beyond the Fire, 1997) doesn’t have it all together yet in the plotting department, but his good guys are...

A fast-paced thriller that moves from Haiti’s mean streets to New York’s, all the while chronicling some high-octane lives.

Not all of them estimable, by any means. Colonel Hugo Ferray, for instance, is as deep-dyed a villain as ever twirled an ill-disposed mustache. We meet him first doing what he does best: murdering without remorse and raping without conscience. Ferray is to a value system what Torquemada was to the idea of mercy. Balancing him is young Fabrice Lacroix, a sweet-natured innocent forced to flee Haiti when he becomes the sole surviving witness to one of the Colonel’s bloodier capers: the wholesale slaughter of a well-to-do family for the sake of a buck. In New York, Fabrice is taken under various wings until circumstances lead him to the West Indian restaurant owned by Madame Arcinciel. There, his life takes an upward turn of a kind he never could have imagined. Jewelry store owner Moe Rosen, too, is undergoing transformation—from loser to winner—with Madam Arcinciel pivotal. If he hadn’t foiled a mugger’s sneak attack, he never would have met Madame’s star waitress, the magnificent Marlene, love object and catalyst for everything bright and beautiful. His love is requited, his failing jewelry store turns a corner, and, to his astonishment, Moe, the near-misanthrope, finds himself enjoying Mr. Rogers–like popularity in his rapidly changing Brooklyn neighborhood. Suddenly, Colonel Ferray materializes, his dark agenda crammed, as always, with despicable plots—involving the hunted Fabrice, yes, but also Madame’s daughter and Moe’s Marlene for good measure. And for a while, evil is clearly in the ascendancy until the forces of good get a timely boost from some beneficent voodoo.

Salinger (Beyond the Fire, 1997) doesn’t have it all together yet in the plotting department, but his good guys are thoroughly likable, and his bad guys keep the pages turning.

Pub Date: June 1, 2001

ISBN: 0-609-60728-6

Page Count: 368

Publisher: Crown

Review Posted Online: May 19, 2010

Kirkus Reviews Issue: April 1, 2001

Categories:
Next book

HOUSE OF LEAVES

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

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:
Next book

THE SECRET HISTORY

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.

Pub Date: Sept. 16, 1992

ISBN: 1400031702

Page Count: 592

Publisher: Knopf

Review Posted Online: May 19, 2010

Kirkus Reviews Issue: July 1, 1992

Categories:
Close Quickview