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crtierney's review
challenging
dark
mysterious
tense
medium-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? A mix
- Strong character development? No
- Loveable characters? No
- Diverse cast of characters? No
- Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes
3.5
theclosetlibrarian's review against another edition
challenging
dark
mysterious
tense
slow-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? A mix
- Strong character development? Yes
- Loveable characters? No
- Diverse cast of characters? Yes
- Flaws of characters a main focus? It's complicated
mamimitanaka's review against another edition
4.0
Man, this was kind of a smorgasbord of everything I tend to like. Thorough psychological probing of one (very enjoyable) character's internal world? Check. Cosmic weirdness and ancient curses? Check. Folk tales? Check. Slow burn dread and mounting horror? Check. Engagement with art (especially avant-garde art) and the artistic process, done in good faith with obsessively detailed and enthusiastic fervor? Check!
I'll admit firsthand that film isn't really my medium - I do love a good movie here and there, but it's not really my focus as a consumer the way literature or music is, so I went into this knowing much of the terminology would likely be lost on me, and it was. But film knowledge is in no way a prerequisite for tackling this book, because our protagonist - and by extension Gemma Files - is not hesitant to inform the reader in a way that is both beneficial to the story and appropriately integrated into the character arc of Lois herself, so at the end of the day it never feels like blatant exposition. You don't have to know about film as much as you have to know about art, really, because what's really front and center here is passion for the craft, chasing down what matters to you in art - and in life in general - and staking yourself to it no matter the cost.
Everything here is illustrated perfectly through the protagonist, Lois Cairns, who acts as a medium (pardon the pun) for the novel's themes as well as a strikingly compelling character in her own right. Lois' drive is easy to empathize with - she's a down-on-her-luck film enthusiast who just wants to find meaning through creating art, something that will make the difficulties that define her life matter. When the seemingly perfect opportunity falls into her hands, she does what any of us emotionally-charged humans would do and sets out to take it. The novel does a great job of getting *deep* into her head at times, at points where some of the more vicious thoughts she had made me wonder whether I should be rooting for her or not, but if anything her brazen honesty and acknowledgment of the depth of her own shortcomings only makes her more likeable and magnetic to read. She's also got a witty, conversational tone that consistently felt like she was directly addressing the reader in a discussion, and her electric writing style (which feels just as much hers as the author herself) made it very hard for me to stop reading.
Structurally this novel takes the tried-and-true horror route: protagonist goes down esoteric rabbit hole, reckons with forces beyond human understanding, and unwittingly unleashes hell. But by giving Lois the depth and interiority she has, this often character-eschewing structure is given a wide-reaching breadth of empathetic attachment to the narrative itself. The "stupid horror protagonist digging a hole for themselves" trope is turned on its head here, because Lois is sharp, attentive, and deductive - it's not that she's dumb, she's just *human*, and why exactly do people - let alone fictional characters - need to act rationally, especially if said irrationality is engaged with for such an understandable reason as Lois? Her obsession is clearly illustrated and her motivations clearly communicated, successfully undermining the "why does she keep doing this" question that a lot of people seem to have umbrage with in the horror genre, and her obsession not only puts herself in harm's way but also places her loved ones in danger, something which she realizes and comes to grapple with. And her fixation is in service to art - the process, the analysis of it and its inherent subjectivity as well as the desire to form meaning from art, whether consumer or creator.
Using the concept of folk legend as the lens in which to frame the novel's themes was a clever one, because of how directly art and folk stories can parallel one another. Art, like folk tales, is constantly subject to necessary interpretation - these interpretations come from a concrete source text, sure, but meaning is assimilated by individuals and cultures, one that can often be radically different from what another believes or what the initial intention of the source text was, in a similar way folk stories are passed by word of mouth and eventually come into being as something entirely different from one person to the next (something this novel also engages in with its own unique take on a figure from Slavic myth). Art, just like myth, is a series of abstractions that reflects oneself back at oneself given the way that you, the reader, already view and interpret the world, with the added bonus of possibly even helping you expand that worldview all through nothing but said abstractions alone. They morph, like old and repurposed legends, into something entirely independent and individual, and for as long as any piece of art exists, this process is unstoppable, a train clacking down the tracks of time and history and shifting ever constantly as it does so.
With this in mind, how could we really judge Lois as "irrational"? Aren't we all irrational, aren't our experiences with stories and people almost always rooted in a deeply irrational, emotional place? Why not get obsessed with something you care about, as Lois does? Sure, maybe don't like, invite ancient demons into your life at the behest of an extreme passion, but also don't push away emotionality and sincerity, either, and do not abandon what drives your passion at the insistence of those people and interpretations of reality who arrogantly claim what you "should" care for. Art, any art, is made to be seen, and made to be molded into your own image. We are meant to look...so look, and dive as deep as you see fit.
"I think the tragedy is that the world never does end, ever. That it goes on & on, forcing us to go on along as well, until at last there is nothing else, nothing more. Until there is only what was, same as what is and what will be— Only the truth, which never changes. Truth not made flesh but image, for anyone to see. For a thought cannot be un-thought, anymore than the world can be un-made, & thus we can never escape the consequences of our mistakes, not without great price, & cost, & pain. Or perhaps not even then. Oh so hard & all for nothing, all of it, for you will look, no matter what. You must, it being your nature—all our natures. We always do."
I'll admit firsthand that film isn't really my medium - I do love a good movie here and there, but it's not really my focus as a consumer the way literature or music is, so I went into this knowing much of the terminology would likely be lost on me, and it was. But film knowledge is in no way a prerequisite for tackling this book, because our protagonist - and by extension Gemma Files - is not hesitant to inform the reader in a way that is both beneficial to the story and appropriately integrated into the character arc of Lois herself, so at the end of the day it never feels like blatant exposition. You don't have to know about film as much as you have to know about art, really, because what's really front and center here is passion for the craft, chasing down what matters to you in art - and in life in general - and staking yourself to it no matter the cost.
Everything here is illustrated perfectly through the protagonist, Lois Cairns, who acts as a medium (pardon the pun) for the novel's themes as well as a strikingly compelling character in her own right. Lois' drive is easy to empathize with - she's a down-on-her-luck film enthusiast who just wants to find meaning through creating art, something that will make the difficulties that define her life matter. When the seemingly perfect opportunity falls into her hands, she does what any of us emotionally-charged humans would do and sets out to take it. The novel does a great job of getting *deep* into her head at times, at points where some of the more vicious thoughts she had made me wonder whether I should be rooting for her or not, but if anything her brazen honesty and acknowledgment of the depth of her own shortcomings only makes her more likeable and magnetic to read. She's also got a witty, conversational tone that consistently felt like she was directly addressing the reader in a discussion, and her electric writing style (which feels just as much hers as the author herself) made it very hard for me to stop reading.
Structurally this novel takes the tried-and-true horror route: protagonist goes down esoteric rabbit hole, reckons with forces beyond human understanding, and unwittingly unleashes hell. But by giving Lois the depth and interiority she has, this often character-eschewing structure is given a wide-reaching breadth of empathetic attachment to the narrative itself. The "stupid horror protagonist digging a hole for themselves" trope is turned on its head here, because Lois is sharp, attentive, and deductive - it's not that she's dumb, she's just *human*, and why exactly do people - let alone fictional characters - need to act rationally, especially if said irrationality is engaged with for such an understandable reason as Lois? Her obsession is clearly illustrated and her motivations clearly communicated, successfully undermining the "why does she keep doing this" question that a lot of people seem to have umbrage with in the horror genre, and her obsession not only puts herself in harm's way but also places her loved ones in danger, something which she realizes and comes to grapple with. And her fixation is in service to art - the process, the analysis of it and its inherent subjectivity as well as the desire to form meaning from art, whether consumer or creator.
Using the concept of folk legend as the lens in which to frame the novel's themes was a clever one, because of how directly art and folk stories can parallel one another. Art, like folk tales, is constantly subject to necessary interpretation - these interpretations come from a concrete source text, sure, but meaning is assimilated by individuals and cultures, one that can often be radically different from what another believes or what the initial intention of the source text was, in a similar way folk stories are passed by word of mouth and eventually come into being as something entirely different from one person to the next (something this novel also engages in with its own unique take on a figure from Slavic myth). Art, just like myth, is a series of abstractions that reflects oneself back at oneself given the way that you, the reader, already view and interpret the world, with the added bonus of possibly even helping you expand that worldview all through nothing but said abstractions alone. They morph, like old and repurposed legends, into something entirely independent and individual, and for as long as any piece of art exists, this process is unstoppable, a train clacking down the tracks of time and history and shifting ever constantly as it does so.
With this in mind, how could we really judge Lois as "irrational"? Aren't we all irrational, aren't our experiences with stories and people almost always rooted in a deeply irrational, emotional place? Why not get obsessed with something you care about, as Lois does? Sure, maybe don't like, invite ancient demons into your life at the behest of an extreme passion, but also don't push away emotionality and sincerity, either, and do not abandon what drives your passion at the insistence of those people and interpretations of reality who arrogantly claim what you "should" care for. Art, any art, is made to be seen, and made to be molded into your own image. We are meant to look...so look, and dive as deep as you see fit.
"I think the tragedy is that the world never does end, ever. That it goes on & on, forcing us to go on along as well, until at last there is nothing else, nothing more. Until there is only what was, same as what is and what will be— Only the truth, which never changes. Truth not made flesh but image, for anyone to see. For a thought cannot be un-thought, anymore than the world can be un-made, & thus we can never escape the consequences of our mistakes, not without great price, & cost, & pain. Or perhaps not even then. Oh so hard & all for nothing, all of it, for you will look, no matter what. You must, it being your nature—all our natures. We always do."
j_hall85's review against another edition
4.0
If Ghostbusters 2’s Vigo the Carpathian was stuck in a reel of film, a ‘la Samara from The Ring, only to be released by a filmmaker/professor/mother, who would teach you a Bachelor degree’s worth of liberal arts studies like Slavic theology, Canadian film history, special needs parenting and Eastern European history, while telling her tale of mystery, which felt a lot like John Carpenter’s Masters of Horror episode, Cigarette Burns. #RunOnSentenceReview
eamwilliams504's review against another edition
2.0
https://scariesthings.com/2018/09/21/lizs-book-report-experimental-film/
westernskynaida's review against another edition
3.75
I’m giving this a little lower of a score because I ended up having to listen to the audiobook version and probably missed a good chunk because I couldn’t focus like if I was reading a physical or ebook
Besides that, I thought this was very well done. The audiobook specifically definitely gave me some goosebumps at certain parts because while it was the same narrator, some parts translated really well in audio form.
While ableism is also pretty thick in this due to how people treat Clark, I feel Lois - in her own way - showed how much she loves Clark, as he is, and while she has frustrations, I was genuinely happy at the final climax made my heart happy.
I want to be able to read this as a physical or ebook because I feel I would get some pieces I’m sure my brain just blanked on - especially in the later half. But I’d definitely recommend this, especially for people interested in folklore from other countries
Besides that, I thought this was very well done. The audiobook specifically definitely gave me some goosebumps at certain parts because while it was the same narrator, some parts translated really well in audio form.
While ableism is also pretty thick in this due to how people treat Clark, I feel Lois - in her own way - showed how much she loves Clark, as he is, and while she has frustrations, I was genuinely happy at the final climax made my heart happy.
I want to be able to read this as a physical or ebook because I feel I would get some pieces I’m sure my brain just blanked on - especially in the later half. But I’d definitely recommend this, especially for people interested in folklore from other countries
wordsmithreads's review against another edition
3.0
I wanted so badly to like this book. Stephen Graham Jones said on a podcast this was his "perfect horror story" so I was intrigued by that. Big words from a fellow scary storyteller. I don't scare easy, so I wanted something to knock my socks off.
This does not. It does not even come close. In fact, I wouldn't even call it a scary story at all.
There is nothing inherently wrong with the book. It's a fine story. It's a nice lesson about what it means to be a parent, what careers look like, the joy of doing work we love. It has threads of mythology, and religion. It features both a special needs character and alludes to the narrator being on the spectrum as well. These are all elements I enjoyed, enough that I stuck with the audiobook for 12 hours.
I think, ultimately, it's just too much talk up for not enough action. It was already talked up by Jones, so I went in expecting a lot from the get go, but Files also repeatedly makes it sound as if something completely catastrophic will happen. And I guess, truthfully, it does, but it's such a blip on the screen in the story that it doesn't even feel significant. And there are no true repercussions.
Other things that I disliked:
- the crutch words of Files. These included: humped, shoehorned, smear, numinous. Her worst offense? "A beat."
- not Files' fault, but the narration of the audiobook was awful. The woman did not change her voice for a single character, male or female, young or old, talking or yelling, thinking or talking, talking or action. Exception: the Black doctor (potentially racist there)
All in all, enough to read and recommend to a friend who I know likes these type of winding stories, but just not my jam. Too, I guess you could say, experimental.
This does not. It does not even come close. In fact, I wouldn't even call it a scary story at all.
There is nothing inherently wrong with the book. It's a fine story. It's a nice lesson about what it means to be a parent, what careers look like, the joy of doing work we love. It has threads of mythology, and religion. It features both a special needs character and alludes to the narrator being on the spectrum as well. These are all elements I enjoyed, enough that I stuck with the audiobook for 12 hours.
I think, ultimately, it's just too much talk up for not enough action. It was already talked up by Jones, so I went in expecting a lot from the get go, but Files also repeatedly makes it sound as if something completely catastrophic will happen. And I guess, truthfully, it does, but it's such a blip on the screen in the story that it doesn't even feel significant. And there are no true repercussions.
Other things that I disliked:
- the crutch words of Files. These included: humped, shoehorned, smear, numinous. Her worst offense? "A beat."
- not Files' fault, but the narration of the audiobook was awful. The woman did not change her voice for a single character, male or female, young or old, talking or yelling, thinking or talking, talking or action. Exception: the Black doctor (potentially racist there)
All in all, enough to read and recommend to a friend who I know likes these type of winding stories, but just not my jam. Too, I guess you could say, experimental.
coriandercake's review against another edition
DNF @ 30%. Damn this book meanders. I think Files spent more time describing the background of a side character than on anything remotely horrifying. I also really don’t care about the film industry that much.
qalminator's review against another edition
4.0
Impressive and fascinating slow creep. This is one that builds up very slowly to the actual horror elements, so some people may find that off-putting, but I found the pacing perfect for the content. It's being written as a retrospective on events, so the narrator (Lois) occasionally puts some commentary in hinting at things to come, to get the tension building sooner.
There's an embedded fairy tale of Lady Midday, who accosts people and punishes them if they are not carrying out their proper tasks, or don't know what those tasks should be. She is at the heart of the story, first with Iris Whitcomb's paintings and films, then with Lois's obsession with them. Naturally there actually is a Lady Midday, who has her (Her) own agenda.
Gemma Files' writing is, as usual, spectacular, and the plot is well-crafted. Recommended.
There's an embedded fairy tale of Lady Midday, who accosts people and punishes them if they are not carrying out their proper tasks, or don't know what those tasks should be. She is at the heart of the story, first with Iris Whitcomb's paintings and films, then with Lois's obsession with them. Naturally there actually is a Lady Midday, who has her (Her) own agenda.
Gemma Files' writing is, as usual, spectacular, and the plot is well-crafted. Recommended.