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Slow River by Nicola Griffith
Jul. 30th, 2011 08:34 amSo I finally finished Slow River by Nicola Griffith
. It's taken quite a while, thanks to the 12-hour work days, writing, and other books coming between us.
It's really good, and I think a lot of you would love it. It's the story of a woman whose comfortable life is ripped apart, and she has to start over, a new identity, a new person, figuring out who she is and what she wants and what she's willing to do to get it, what she's willing to compromise.
The whole book is set a relatively bleak future -- it's not bleak like the Hunger Games, but there's not a whole lot of hope, either. The book switches between first person narration for the stuff happening "now" and third person narration for what happened to the protagonist before she became her new person. It's very effective in distinguishing the now, being present for life, from the then, being disconnected, separated, even more unhappy.
It actually didn't work for me personally; I enjoyed parts of it, but I wished the narrative had been more linear, had been one thing or the other. I felt invested in the protagonist as a child and in the protagonist as a self-aware adult, but the stuff in between... I would've happily taken an exposition dump instead of the thousands of words of narrative. But that's just me, and we all know how peculiar I am about narrative I read for fun.
Were I writing content notes for this book, I'd include in my list: pretty graphic sexual and emotional abuse; scenes dealing with issues of (mostly sexual) consent; a recounting of a kidnapping; some (mostly but not entirely off-screen) physical violence; interesting examination of privilege -- getting it, keeping it, losing it; dysfunctional and (delightfully) functional lesbian relationships; someone learning how to make friends (and sometimes failing).
Oh, and seriously, my understanding is that this should go without saying for Nicola Griffith, but the prose? It is flawless.
...Next up on my list: I am torn between Holding Still for as Long as Possible by Zoe Whittall
and The Dreamer, Her Angel and the Stars by Linda S. North
. Queer Canadian twentysomethings or futuristic lesbians? Decisions are the worst!
. It's taken quite a while, thanks to the 12-hour work days, writing, and other books coming between us. It's really good, and I think a lot of you would love it. It's the story of a woman whose comfortable life is ripped apart, and she has to start over, a new identity, a new person, figuring out who she is and what she wants and what she's willing to do to get it, what she's willing to compromise.
The whole book is set a relatively bleak future -- it's not bleak like the Hunger Games, but there's not a whole lot of hope, either. The book switches between first person narration for the stuff happening "now" and third person narration for what happened to the protagonist before she became her new person. It's very effective in distinguishing the now, being present for life, from the then, being disconnected, separated, even more unhappy.
It actually didn't work for me personally; I enjoyed parts of it, but I wished the narrative had been more linear, had been one thing or the other. I felt invested in the protagonist as a child and in the protagonist as a self-aware adult, but the stuff in between... I would've happily taken an exposition dump instead of the thousands of words of narrative. But that's just me, and we all know how peculiar I am about narrative I read for fun.
Were I writing content notes for this book, I'd include in my list: pretty graphic sexual and emotional abuse; scenes dealing with issues of (mostly sexual) consent; a recounting of a kidnapping; some (mostly but not entirely off-screen) physical violence; interesting examination of privilege -- getting it, keeping it, losing it; dysfunctional and (delightfully) functional lesbian relationships; someone learning how to make friends (and sometimes failing).
Oh, and seriously, my understanding is that this should go without saying for Nicola Griffith, but the prose? It is flawless.
...Next up on my list: I am torn between Holding Still for as Long as Possible by Zoe Whittall
and The Dreamer, Her Angel and the Stars by Linda S. North. Queer Canadian twentysomethings or futuristic lesbians? Decisions are the worst!