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timothylgrills's review
4.0
3.5, rounded up.
Not necessarily sure what I read.
Each of the characters are "consumed" by something and the two Aristoguys know this with their Marxist critiques of society. However, when Celestine, the wife of the philosophical duo, is killed and eaten by her husband, it is up to Naomi to uncover the truth. Meanwhile, Naomi's longtime boyfriend, Nate, gets a rare STD from a dying woman.
TLDR: This is a lot and I can't make a review about it because--how?
Not necessarily sure what I read.
Each of the characters are "consumed" by something and the two Aristoguys know this with their Marxist critiques of society. However, when Celestine, the wife of the philosophical duo, is killed and eaten by her husband, it is up to Naomi to uncover the truth. Meanwhile, Naomi's longtime boyfriend, Nate, gets a rare STD from a dying woman.
TLDR: This is a lot and I can't make a review about it because--how?
18thstjoe's review
4.0
more eXistenZ and Crash, than Videodrome or Naked Lunch, if you enjoy Cronenberg's body horror in film, you'll like this
strikingthirteen's review
3.0
I don't even know where to start with this. For the first fifty or so pages I getting a little annoyed with the constant description and competition between the two main characters about what brand and type of camera they were using and was really annoyed every time they had to broadcast precisely which photo editing software or voice recording software they're using. The more I went along though - and this book requires investment, at times you will want to stop and that will most likely be because it feels like nothing is happening - the more that it made sense.
One one hand we have Naomi, a journalist looking to cover the story about a French philosopher couple (one of whom has vanished, the other has been murdered and partly cannibalized). On the other we have Nathan, another journalist and Naomi's boyfriend, who is interviewing this odd Hungarian surgeon and then ends up in Toronto after encountering an infection.
There is a lot of description here and I think it would make a great film - except for the fact that said film would certain be X rated in parts. It is a weird book, but one that I'm still trying to puzzle out and would love to read again with a notepad handy.
If you like Cronenberg's films (I do), you owe it yourself to give his first novel a try. It has its problems but it's just as weird, horrific, and thought provoking as you're used to in his films.
One one hand we have Naomi, a journalist looking to cover the story about a French philosopher couple (one of whom has vanished, the other has been murdered and partly cannibalized). On the other we have Nathan, another journalist and Naomi's boyfriend, who is interviewing this odd Hungarian surgeon and then ends up in Toronto after encountering an infection.
There is a lot of description here and I think it would make a great film - except for the fact that said film would certain be X rated in parts. It is a weird book, but one that I'm still trying to puzzle out and would love to read again with a notepad handy.
If you like Cronenberg's films (I do), you owe it yourself to give his first novel a try. It has its problems but it's just as weird, horrific, and thought provoking as you're used to in his films.
gerhard's review
5.0
The ongoing controversy about The Interview reminded me of the running gag in David Cronenberg’s first novel about ‘Kimunism’ and the The Judicious Use of Insects. This fictitious movie causes controversy and upheaval at Cannes, as it is supported by France’s most intellectually daring philosopher couple, who are sympathetic towards the North Korean dictatorship (Cronenberg mentions the scandal of Gerard Depardieu renouncing his French citizenship and being personally awarded a Russian passport by Vladimir Putin).
The book opens with the death of the wife, killed and cannibalised by her husband, who is hiding out in Japan as a result. Cronenberg refers to the bizarre case of Issei Sagawa, who murdered and cannabilised a fellow Dutch student at the Sorbonne in 1981. A French judge declared Sagawa to be mentally insane, whereupon he was extradited to Japan, becoming a minor celebrity and even writing restaurant reviews.
What this means is that a lot of the more outlandish plot elements here are, in actual fact, refractions of real events, which adds another dimension to Cronenberg’s theme of the fusion of entertainment, media, technology and politics. We see the story through the eyes of yet another couple, two journalists, whose obsession with the latest gadgets is almost a fetish.
Cronenberg’s experience as a filmmaker allows him to riff authoritatively on the latest camera and recording technology: “...he consumed her body with that lens (the awkwardly named Micro-Nikkor 105mm f/2.8G IF-ED).” There is a very funny scene where Naomi demonstrates the photographic potential of the newest iPhone by taking pictures of Nathan’s erect penis.
Indeed, much of the novel is blackly and bleakly funny, taking in its stride everything from acrotomophilia (a sexual attraction to amputees) to the fictitious Roiphe’s Disease, which Nathan contracts after having sex with a radical surgery patient, to the Worldwide Genital Mutilation Conference, 3D printing as a medical tool and ‘philosospasms’ (Naomi and Nathan’s pet term for their digressive interests).
The discussion of ‘insect politics’ and the ingestion of insects for both religious and nutritive value reminds us, of course, of Cronenberg’s own movies The Fly and his adaptation of William Burroughs’ Naked Lunch. Indeed, Consumed is very much a love letter to long-term Cronenberg fans, running a sustained trajectory from the ‘body horror’ of his early work to his later interest in identity and gender.
Cronenberg’s writing reflects the dispassioned, steely intelligence of his movies. It is rather fitting that Consumed is a genre hybrid, straddling horror, science fiction and satire. Cronenberg writes with such confidence and insight that it is difficult to imagine this is his first novel. Of course, the attention to detail is very much a result of his director’s eye.
What I found fascinating is how the novel format allows Cronenberg to expand upon his ideas in a much more radical way than he is able to do in his movies – to the extent that a movie based upon Consumed would be almost impossible to make in the current socio-political climate. We do not want to upset the Boy King of North Korea, now do we.
The book opens with the death of the wife, killed and cannibalised by her husband, who is hiding out in Japan as a result. Cronenberg refers to the bizarre case of Issei Sagawa, who murdered and cannabilised a fellow Dutch student at the Sorbonne in 1981. A French judge declared Sagawa to be mentally insane, whereupon he was extradited to Japan, becoming a minor celebrity and even writing restaurant reviews.
What this means is that a lot of the more outlandish plot elements here are, in actual fact, refractions of real events, which adds another dimension to Cronenberg’s theme of the fusion of entertainment, media, technology and politics. We see the story through the eyes of yet another couple, two journalists, whose obsession with the latest gadgets is almost a fetish.
Cronenberg’s experience as a filmmaker allows him to riff authoritatively on the latest camera and recording technology: “...he consumed her body with that lens (the awkwardly named Micro-Nikkor 105mm f/2.8G IF-ED).” There is a very funny scene where Naomi demonstrates the photographic potential of the newest iPhone by taking pictures of Nathan’s erect penis.
Indeed, much of the novel is blackly and bleakly funny, taking in its stride everything from acrotomophilia (a sexual attraction to amputees) to the fictitious Roiphe’s Disease, which Nathan contracts after having sex with a radical surgery patient, to the Worldwide Genital Mutilation Conference, 3D printing as a medical tool and ‘philosospasms’ (Naomi and Nathan’s pet term for their digressive interests).
The discussion of ‘insect politics’ and the ingestion of insects for both religious and nutritive value reminds us, of course, of Cronenberg’s own movies The Fly and his adaptation of William Burroughs’ Naked Lunch. Indeed, Consumed is very much a love letter to long-term Cronenberg fans, running a sustained trajectory from the ‘body horror’ of his early work to his later interest in identity and gender.
Cronenberg’s writing reflects the dispassioned, steely intelligence of his movies. It is rather fitting that Consumed is a genre hybrid, straddling horror, science fiction and satire. Cronenberg writes with such confidence and insight that it is difficult to imagine this is his first novel. Of course, the attention to detail is very much a result of his director’s eye.
What I found fascinating is how the novel format allows Cronenberg to expand upon his ideas in a much more radical way than he is able to do in his movies – to the extent that a movie based upon Consumed would be almost impossible to make in the current socio-political climate. We do not want to upset the Boy King of North Korea, now do we.
bumbledragonb's review
2.0
Consumed is the debut novel by director David Cronenberg. Once crowned King of Venereal Horror, Cronenberg seems to return to the roots of his early film career with this novel. This is not the current Cronenberg who has directed The Map to The Stars, but the Cronenberg of The Fly, Videodrome, eXistenZ and Scanners. The novel is not only about being consumed in the most literal sense, but also about being consumers. With gadgets being an object of fetish and obsession; iPhones being part of sex play. Photos of patients on the operating table decorating the walls of a restaurant. Cronenberg’s thesis is made quite clear throughout the book, with a couple of French philosopher characters acting as spokespeople.
Cronenberg delights in descriptions of deviant behaviours. His world is filled with an abundance of sexual encounters, self-mutilation, sexual diseases, psychopathology and cannibalism and the characters who inhabit it seem perfectly at home in it. Naomi and Nathan, writers, photographers, journalists and filmmakers (it is made quite clear that it is necessary to adapt and be a multimedia professional to thrive, a sentiment the might echo Cronenberg’s own experiences in the film industry) do not have any boundaries when it comes to getting emotionally and sexually involved with their subjects. There is no such thing as objective reporting and research and they are willing to offer their bodies in exchange for gaining trust and intimacy and having access to their research subjects.
For full review, please go to The Ballycumbers Review
Cronenberg delights in descriptions of deviant behaviours. His world is filled with an abundance of sexual encounters, self-mutilation, sexual diseases, psychopathology and cannibalism and the characters who inhabit it seem perfectly at home in it. Naomi and Nathan, writers, photographers, journalists and filmmakers (it is made quite clear that it is necessary to adapt and be a multimedia professional to thrive, a sentiment the might echo Cronenberg’s own experiences in the film industry) do not have any boundaries when it comes to getting emotionally and sexually involved with their subjects. There is no such thing as objective reporting and research and they are willing to offer their bodies in exchange for gaining trust and intimacy and having access to their research subjects.
For full review, please go to The Ballycumbers Review
beyondthevalley's review
dark
tense
medium-paced
- Strong character development? No
- Loveable characters? No
- Diverse cast of characters? No
- Flaws of characters a main focus? N/A
2.0
skjam's review
3.0
Disclaimer: I received this book as a Goodreads giveaway on the premise that I would review it. The copy I read was an uncorrected proof, and changes may be made in the final product.
Naomi and Nathan are photojournalists, specializing in lurid crime and medical stories respectively. They’re what my generation called “hip” and up to date with all the latest technology. The two are in a mostly stable relationship, though they spend little time together, snatching moments of intimacy when their paths cross.
As the story begins, Nathan is doing a story on breast surgery in Budapest, while Naomi has fastened on a news item about a French philosophy professor who has apparently killed and eaten his wife. Their investigations lead them further apart physically, one to Canada and the other to Japan, but the stories they pursue are more closely intertwined than they could have guessed.
Mr. Cronenberg is, of course, a famous movie director, with credits like The Fly, The Dead Zone and Cosmopolis. This is his first published novel, cue out in September 2014.
There’s a lot of brand name dropping, and technological fetishism; it’s very “now”, which makes me suspect that in twenty years’ time, the book will have aged badly. But at this point in time, it’s still fresh.
It’s hard to pin down a genre here–let’s say somewhere between psychological thriller and techno-thriller, with the meaning of and reasons for much of what’s going on left obscure until very near the end.
Naomi and Nathan aren’t particularly likable protagonists. They’re self-absorbed, low on journalistic ethics, and have a habit of letting their story subjects co-opt them. Nathan makes a particularly horrible mistake early on which screws up their relationship. Naomi is confronted more than once with her lack of cultural depth. On the other hand, better people wouldn’t have gotten into the fixes they do, which are essential to moving the story along.
Some readers are likely to find this book intensely creepy, as there are themes of cannibalism, deformity, insanity, bodily infirmity, insects and disease throughout. There’s also a lot of talk about sex, even outside the sex scenes.
Ending discussed here: I found the ending less than satisfying–the story answers a few of the questions, then abruptly stops with a final mind screw and the actual fates of several people up in the air.
If you’re a big fan of Cronenberg movies, this bears a strong resemblance to one of them, and is likely to please. People with weak stomachs should skip this book.
This may be fixed in the final version, but there’s a use of Japanese honorifics that will be teeth-grinding for those who’ve studied the language–and since both characters in the scene are native speakers of Japanese, they don’t have any excuse.
Naomi and Nathan are photojournalists, specializing in lurid crime and medical stories respectively. They’re what my generation called “hip” and up to date with all the latest technology. The two are in a mostly stable relationship, though they spend little time together, snatching moments of intimacy when their paths cross.
As the story begins, Nathan is doing a story on breast surgery in Budapest, while Naomi has fastened on a news item about a French philosophy professor who has apparently killed and eaten his wife. Their investigations lead them further apart physically, one to Canada and the other to Japan, but the stories they pursue are more closely intertwined than they could have guessed.
Mr. Cronenberg is, of course, a famous movie director, with credits like The Fly, The Dead Zone and Cosmopolis. This is his first published novel, cue out in September 2014.
There’s a lot of brand name dropping, and technological fetishism; it’s very “now”, which makes me suspect that in twenty years’ time, the book will have aged badly. But at this point in time, it’s still fresh.
It’s hard to pin down a genre here–let’s say somewhere between psychological thriller and techno-thriller, with the meaning of and reasons for much of what’s going on left obscure until very near the end.
Naomi and Nathan aren’t particularly likable protagonists. They’re self-absorbed, low on journalistic ethics, and have a habit of letting their story subjects co-opt them. Nathan makes a particularly horrible mistake early on which screws up their relationship. Naomi is confronted more than once with her lack of cultural depth. On the other hand, better people wouldn’t have gotten into the fixes they do, which are essential to moving the story along.
Some readers are likely to find this book intensely creepy, as there are themes of cannibalism, deformity, insanity, bodily infirmity, insects and disease throughout. There’s also a lot of talk about sex, even outside the sex scenes.
Ending discussed here:
If you’re a big fan of Cronenberg movies, this bears a strong resemblance to one of them, and is likely to please. People with weak stomachs should skip this book.
This may be fixed in the final version, but there’s a use of Japanese honorifics that will be teeth-grinding for those who’ve studied the language–and since both characters in the scene are native speakers of Japanese, they don’t have any excuse.
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