Scan barcode
sjbozich's review against another edition
3.0
A lot of contemporary writers who I admire mention Spiotta when asked who they read - so I figured I'd give her a try.
This was OK, I liked the music and LA setting, but I'm not sure that the changing POV/narrator added much. And at times I felt like the structure was a bit too all-over-the-place. But, overall a good write on memory and defining one's self.
I'll more than likely read another of her books.
What is interesting, is in the Acknowledgements she states that the character of Nik is based on her step-father, Richard Frasca, who had a made-up-life as a rock star. He did have a moment of fame early on, as part of The Whores, whose song "Bi-School" was included in Cheech and Chong's "Up in Smoke". He did some other appearances later in his life, thanks to the publication of this novel.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=j9r5vV0L3AA
This was OK, I liked the music and LA setting, but I'm not sure that the changing POV/narrator added much. And at times I felt like the structure was a bit too all-over-the-place. But, overall a good write on memory and defining one's self.
I'll more than likely read another of her books.
What is interesting, is in the Acknowledgements she states that the character of Nik is based on her step-father, Richard Frasca, who had a made-up-life as a rock star. He did have a moment of fame early on, as part of The Whores, whose song "Bi-School" was included in Cheech and Chong's "Up in Smoke". He did some other appearances later in his life, thanks to the publication of this novel.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=j9r5vV0L3AA
juliehirt's review against another edition
2.0
I had a hard time getting into this book. Seemed to go in about nothingness in people's lives and I guess, right now, i wasn't into it.
mondyboy's review against another edition
5.0
There's a moment about a quarter of the way through Dana Spiotta's Stone Arabia where the main character has a thought so obvious and yet so profound that I had to take a time-out to digest what I had just read. Our main character, Denise, coming to terms with her mother's gradual memory loss, recognises that she will one day witness her own daughter growing old. This simple observation has never occurred to me. Cleary I'm aware that my kids will get older, racing through clothes and moods quicker than my budget and patience can keep up, but I've never internalised the fact that if I live long enough they will be as old as I am now. As Spiotta puts it "I would live to see her get crow’s-feet and gray hair and hands that showed veins. I would see her feet and her neck change. I would see the perfection of her body be undone by time... The privilege of a long life is you live long enough to see your perfect child also submit to time and aging." Stone Arabia is full of these insights, reflections on middle age and family and parenthood and, as I will discuss in a sec, memory, that force you to pause, just for a moment, so you can absorb the deeper truth.
The main driver of this extraordinary novel - a novel James Bradley has been suggesting I read for a number of years - is how memory informs a person's identity. Spiotta deals with this in a number of ways. As noted above Denise's mother is suffering from a form of dementia that's causing her to not only forget but also become paranoid (and increasingly racist) about those around her. Denise is also doubting her own memories or at least her capacity to retrieve information about the most mundane of things. There's a great moment where she struggles to recall the American actress with the large chest who was decapitated in a horrible accident in the 1960s. Now I knew who Denise was referring too, and I'm sure so do you, but what was both funny and discomforting is that as I read the scene I completely forgot Jayne Mansfield's name. Denise's momentary memory-loss became my own.
But where the theme of memory and identity is treated with a great deal of originality and brilliance is in regard to Denise's brother Nik Karanis and his 30-year project to chronicle an alternate existence where his talent as a songwriter and musician is recognised. Now most of us - well me anyway - fantasise what our lives may have been like if we'd become a famous writer, actor or, in my case, Chef. It's one thing to have these idle thoughts it's another to actually create that alternative through multi-volume journals describing that life, fake clippings of reviews and articles about your artistic genius, including negative criticism and sneers, and the creation of album covers and all manner of one-off merchandise - and yes the music as well - to the extent that if archaeologists were to uncover all this many years from now they would be justified into thinking that Nik Karanis was a famous, much respected, sometimes loathed musician. Throughout the novel we are exposed to snippets of this other life, these memories that only have a tangential connection to reality, this extraordinary intricate alter-ego. Nik's project is so utterly insane and yet, somehow, absolutely authentic. We know it's artifice, Denise knows it's artifice, but we come to believe in the Nik that never existed.
Although Denise fears ending up like her mother, it's her written account that not only provides insight into the 'real' Nik but offers us a portrait of a woman who dearly loves her mother, daughter and brother but isn't entirely convinced she's made the most of her own life. Clearly her diary entries are a response to her brother's fantasy version of himself, but not to undermine or necessarily to set the record straight but as an attempt to understand how she got here - how we all got here. And, of course, they are a repository of her memories, things she's willing to admit to and other things she only hints at. As she says later in the novel sometimes the only way to keep a family together is to submit willingly to a form of shared delusion, the editing and deliberate deleting of certain memories. Not to say that this is a novel where dark secrets are hidden between the sentences, but rather an acknowledgment of what most of us do.
Stone Arabia is an emotional and inventive look at memory and identity. It's also a fantastic family novel that replaces artificial drama with the close bond between a brother and sister. I'll admit I may have shed a tear when Nik admitted to Denise's daughter, Ada, that he saw his sister as an extension of himself. The true keeper of his and his families history.
The main driver of this extraordinary novel - a novel James Bradley has been suggesting I read for a number of years - is how memory informs a person's identity. Spiotta deals with this in a number of ways. As noted above Denise's mother is suffering from a form of dementia that's causing her to not only forget but also become paranoid (and increasingly racist) about those around her. Denise is also doubting her own memories or at least her capacity to retrieve information about the most mundane of things. There's a great moment where she struggles to recall the American actress with the large chest who was decapitated in a horrible accident in the 1960s. Now I knew who Denise was referring too, and I'm sure so do you, but what was both funny and discomforting is that as I read the scene I completely forgot Jayne Mansfield's name. Denise's momentary memory-loss became my own.
But where the theme of memory and identity is treated with a great deal of originality and brilliance is in regard to Denise's brother Nik Karanis and his 30-year project to chronicle an alternate existence where his talent as a songwriter and musician is recognised. Now most of us - well me anyway - fantasise what our lives may have been like if we'd become a famous writer, actor or, in my case, Chef. It's one thing to have these idle thoughts it's another to actually create that alternative through multi-volume journals describing that life, fake clippings of reviews and articles about your artistic genius, including negative criticism and sneers, and the creation of album covers and all manner of one-off merchandise - and yes the music as well - to the extent that if archaeologists were to uncover all this many years from now they would be justified into thinking that Nik Karanis was a famous, much respected, sometimes loathed musician. Throughout the novel we are exposed to snippets of this other life, these memories that only have a tangential connection to reality, this extraordinary intricate alter-ego. Nik's project is so utterly insane and yet, somehow, absolutely authentic. We know it's artifice, Denise knows it's artifice, but we come to believe in the Nik that never existed.
Although Denise fears ending up like her mother, it's her written account that not only provides insight into the 'real' Nik but offers us a portrait of a woman who dearly loves her mother, daughter and brother but isn't entirely convinced she's made the most of her own life. Clearly her diary entries are a response to her brother's fantasy version of himself, but not to undermine or necessarily to set the record straight but as an attempt to understand how she got here - how we all got here. And, of course, they are a repository of her memories, things she's willing to admit to and other things she only hints at. As she says later in the novel sometimes the only way to keep a family together is to submit willingly to a form of shared delusion, the editing and deliberate deleting of certain memories. Not to say that this is a novel where dark secrets are hidden between the sentences, but rather an acknowledgment of what most of us do.
Stone Arabia is an emotional and inventive look at memory and identity. It's also a fantastic family novel that replaces artificial drama with the close bond between a brother and sister. I'll admit I may have shed a tear when Nik admitted to Denise's daughter, Ada, that he saw his sister as an extension of himself. The true keeper of his and his families history.
mikeerrico's review against another edition
4.0
Incredible collage of rock music, memory and mortality.
tgwood505's review against another edition
5.0
Stone Arabia is the story of Nik Worth, a musician and obsessive chronicler of an imagined life. For twenty-five years, Nik has compulsively manufactured and documented the artifacts (including the music -- bootlegs, liner notes, album covers, etc...)of a fictional music career. The reality of his life, however, is that he is a recluse who has not performed his music in public for decades. The narrative of Nik's life is given to us through his sister, Denise's, own first person "Chronicles" (which are the purported "truth"). We also see Denise through the more objective lens of a third person narrator. I've been reading a lot of this (post?) post-modern stuff lately (Girl ChildA Visit from the Goon Squad)...and while its narrative form certainly adds layers to the story, I was actually more entranced by the ruminations on memory and art.
Denise is losing her memory (or fears she is anyway), and so her recollections are both precious and faulty. Conversely, Nik has spent his entire life documenting an imagined life...creating an alternate history out of thin air. Lastly, Denise's daughter, Ada, a film maker, becomes obsessed with documenting her eccentric uncle's actual life.
During an interview between Ada and Nik, Ada asks Nik, "Who is your audience?" The assumption here is that art requires an intended audience. That without an audience, there is no such thing as art (the whole tree falling in the forest business). Nik answers, "Myself. Other than that, I don't have one, I suppose. Some family and friends." Yet Nik is an artist: he creates, he is passionate, he is consumed. And he is talented. And the most riveting aspect of his character is the absence of resentment or regret. Even without an audience, he has led an artful life.
Initially I resisted Denise as narrator. I didn't care enough about her; she was dull in comparison to Nik. However, I think this was a conscious and critical decision on Spiotta's part. It serves to elevate Nik's character and his work.
I highly recommend this novel. Really, really brilliant work.
Denise is losing her memory (or fears she is anyway), and so her recollections are both precious and faulty. Conversely, Nik has spent his entire life documenting an imagined life...creating an alternate history out of thin air. Lastly, Denise's daughter, Ada, a film maker, becomes obsessed with documenting her eccentric uncle's actual life.
During an interview between Ada and Nik, Ada asks Nik, "Who is your audience?" The assumption here is that art requires an intended audience. That without an audience, there is no such thing as art (the whole tree falling in the forest business). Nik answers, "Myself. Other than that, I don't have one, I suppose. Some family and friends." Yet Nik is an artist: he creates, he is passionate, he is consumed. And he is talented. And the most riveting aspect of his character is the absence of resentment or regret. Even without an audience, he has led an artful life.
Initially I resisted Denise as narrator. I didn't care enough about her; she was dull in comparison to Nik. However, I think this was a conscious and critical decision on Spiotta's part. It serves to elevate Nik's character and his work.
I highly recommend this novel. Really, really brilliant work.
meadowbat's review against another edition
4.0
I think most non-famous artists have asked themselves whether their work will make noise in a forest if no one is around to hear/read/view it. The sparsely populated forest in the book is inhabited by Denise and Nik, a brother and sister who grew up as semi-feral rock 'n' roll kids in L.A. Nik is a talented and prolific songwriter, but he only shares his work with a few people and in his "Chronicles," a meticulous documentation of a parallel universe in which he is the (not infallible) king of rock.
But despite the novel's Jonathan Lethem-worthy pomo pop culture savvy, Stone Arabia is first and foremost a book about memory--Denise's narration is intercut with Nik's Chronicles and her daughter's blog, among other sources. And memory is always about the inevitability of loss. Loss comes into play in more immediate and suspenseful forms as well, which made this book a page-turner. I liked its kindness and I empathized with Denise's neuroses (which include a tendency to over-empathize) and her conclusion that people can't be anyone but themselves. But something about the ending left me feeling drifty. I feel like it bears a reread, but until then I'll hold off on that fifth star.
But despite the novel's Jonathan Lethem-worthy pomo pop culture savvy, Stone Arabia is first and foremost a book about memory--Denise's narration is intercut with Nik's Chronicles and her daughter's blog, among other sources. And memory is always about the inevitability of loss. Loss comes into play in more immediate and suspenseful forms as well, which made this book a page-turner. I liked its kindness and I empathized with Denise's neuroses (which include a tendency to over-empathize) and her conclusion that people can't be anyone but themselves. But something about the ending left me feeling drifty. I feel like it bears a reread, but until then I'll hold off on that fifth star.
drossg's review against another edition
challenging
dark
emotional
reflective
sad
slow-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? Character
- Strong character development? It's complicated
- Loveable characters? It's complicated
- Diverse cast of characters? No
- Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes
4.0
This one is difficult. I’d compare it to The Great Gatsby in that, while it’s far from my favorite novel, I would call it a perfect novel (I don’t actually know if this novel will, in the end, be judged as perfect, I’m more just commenting on the craft). Unlike F. Scott. Fitzgerald, though, Dana Spiotta has made me care about, and even like(!) unlikable characters (I also imagined Nik as Kyle MacLachlan, which helped)
As an aside I would recommend everyone watch The Devil and Daniel Johnston. The truth is stranger than fiction!
As an aside I would recommend everyone watch The Devil and Daniel Johnston. The truth is stranger than fiction!
rickwren's review against another edition
2.0
Nick Worth is a fascinating character study. He prolifically writes, creates, performs - for himself, for his own memories. Told from the point of view of Denise, Nick's younger sister we learn about Nick in a nonlinear, troubled narrative. We learn about his failures, his lovers, his life and his successes, mostly internal. Ada, Denise's daughter provides the transition from chronicle to documentary, from aspiration to legitimacy. All of this book delves into what makes Nick who he is. However, there is no plot. Nick Worth is a character study and Stone Arabia is a vehicle and the entire exercise is a study, but there is no plot. I need a plot or I'm just looking at a photo on a wall without context or purpose.
inphemeral's review against another edition
emotional
reflective
medium-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? Character
- Strong character development? No
- Loveable characters? Yes
- Diverse cast of characters? No
4.25