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ponycanyon's review against another edition
2.0
Kathryn Davis' The Thin Place is easily the best book I've read in about the past 10 years or so, but Hell quite simply didn't hold up as well. The early-nineties copyright date should have clued me in to this being a piece of writing workshop juvenilia, but the premise - three intertwined narratives existing in (sort of) the same spacetime - that of a real house and family, a doll house existing in the real house, and then a real person existing in a book in the doll house 100 years in the past ("or something") - sounded promising, reminiscent of John Crowley's work and the classic surrealist film Celine and Julie Go Boating, a personal favorite. The inside is bigger than the out, thing thing is its own reflection, the beginning is the end of the beginning is the end of the...and so on. But none of that promise can save Hell, which balks on the premise and is instead a lazy, jumbled mess. I'm currently digging Davis' The Walking Tour and simply cannot endorse The Thin Place enough, but Hell is for children and/or other people. Ho-ho!
baddogjordan's review against another edition
5.0
This is probably my 9th time reading this book. And I'm just really beginning to wrap my head around it. It is so supremely well written that it's worth reading just to see the words strung together. The story is incredible. But it takes multiple readings in order to understand. And then it takes a few more to get the genius. And then it takes a few more to really start untangling. I will probably read this 9 more times.
michelempls's review against another edition
2.0
I gave it two stars, because the language was beautiful. I had expected it to be twisty, but other than the language, I I found this really impossible to track, and that led me to bail on it.
I checked this out from the library on the strength of a review on Lithub by Jac Jemc. Jemc said, in Books to Warp Your Sense of Reality;
"Hell is the story of not one but three haunted houses, all existing in the same space and time. As a reader you must decide, from sentence to sentence which house it is you’re reading about. Maybe it’s all three, but the sentence means something different depending on the space you’re projecting it onto. It’s the most disorienting book I’ve read, and, with each subsequent reading, I never feel myself on firmer ground. A bold hall of mirrors that has you bumping into yourself until the end."
I might try wading into this again, but it really was too disorienting for me to want to persevere to the end.
I checked this out from the library on the strength of a review on Lithub by Jac Jemc. Jemc said, in Books to Warp Your Sense of Reality;
"Hell is the story of not one but three haunted houses, all existing in the same space and time. As a reader you must decide, from sentence to sentence which house it is you’re reading about. Maybe it’s all three, but the sentence means something different depending on the space you’re projecting it onto. It’s the most disorienting book I’ve read, and, with each subsequent reading, I never feel myself on firmer ground. A bold hall of mirrors that has you bumping into yourself until the end."
I might try wading into this again, but it really was too disorienting for me to want to persevere to the end.
matthewcpeck's review against another edition
3.0
Difficult to grasp and/or review, "Hell" does something inspired by tossing in at least four different narratives into one slim novel, dizzily switching between them or layering them atop another like translucent slides: pioneering French chef Antonin Careme, a mid-19th century domestic guru named Edwina Moss, a 1950s family in the wake of a hurricane, and a ragtag "family" of dolls. Like Davis's "Duplex", "Hell" left me wowed but utterly nonplussed. Both books are bizarre, but "Duplex" describes outlandish scenarios matter-of-factly, while the earlier book describes covers more ordinary goings-on through challenging, ever-shifting, disorienting prose. It's also packed with allusions and quotes, making me feel that an annotated edition would have increased my appreciation. Still, every page is intriguing, and the writing is beautiful – above all, the final chapter comprised of one long, spellbinding sentence. Recommended for readers without distractions and extra time to think and research.
junegloome's review against another edition
1.0
This book attempts the novelty of three story lines that are meant to come together, but the execution is miserable.
Reading this felt like a chore, especially when it came to the few chapters that are just massive run on sentences, such as: pages 42-43 at 47 lines, pages 71-72 at 37 lines, pages 91-92 at 35 lines, and the last chapter from page 162-179 [the last chapter has some places where a question mark or exclamation mark looks like it marks the end of a sentence, but the following word is not capitalized, so I marked the number of lines up to those points in this chapter, but continued to count the lines until the next questionable end of a sentence. I also quickly gave up when I figured I would get to finish this book sooner if I stopped counting] at 53, 60, 61,114, 115, 179 etc. lines. My point is, this book is exhausting to try to read and I quickly gave up trying to make sense out of these massive walls of text.
Overall, this book feels pretentious and condescending, especially when it makes references to Pandora's box, Sisyphus and Descartes even though these references don't have anything to do with the plot.
If you want a book with the novelty of multiple, seemingly unrelated plot-lines that come together beautifully by the end, and you want it written well, read either Cloud Atlas by David Mitchell or Station Eleven by Emily St. John Mandel, not this.
Reading this felt like a chore, especially when it came to the few chapters that are just massive run on sentences, such as: pages 42-43 at 47 lines, pages 71-72 at 37 lines, pages 91-92 at 35 lines, and the last chapter from page 162-179 [the last chapter has some places where a question mark or exclamation mark looks like it marks the end of a sentence, but the following word is not capitalized, so I marked the number of lines up to those points in this chapter, but continued to count the lines until the next questionable end of a sentence. I also quickly gave up when I figured I would get to finish this book sooner if I stopped counting] at 53, 60, 61,114, 115, 179 etc. lines. My point is, this book is exhausting to try to read and I quickly gave up trying to make sense out of these massive walls of text.
Overall, this book feels pretentious and condescending, especially when it makes references to Pandora's box, Sisyphus and Descartes even though these references don't have anything to do with the plot.
If you want a book with the novelty of multiple, seemingly unrelated plot-lines that come together beautifully by the end, and you want it written well, read either Cloud Atlas by David Mitchell or Station Eleven by Emily St. John Mandel, not this.
msjenne's review against another edition
Wow, I don't remember this at all, but it's on my reading list so I must have tried it.
From the description, it sounds kind of tedious:
"This demanding and rewarding third novel by the author of Labrador and The Girl Who Trod on a Loaf will delight all serious readers. Its sensuous prose and vivid rendering of the minutiae of everyday life propel the reader through three haunting tales woven together."
From the description, it sounds kind of tedious:
"This demanding and rewarding third novel by the author of Labrador and The Girl Who Trod on a Loaf will delight all serious readers. Its sensuous prose and vivid rendering of the minutiae of everyday life propel the reader through three haunting tales woven together."
dianebluegreen's review
challenging
mysterious
medium-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? Plot
- Strong character development? No
4.25
i just loved this book,even if i didn't understand the whole thing.
melanie_page's review
2.0
I knew this book was difficult because I gave it several starts and re-starts. The flap of the book tells the reader that there are three things going on at once: a family in the 1950s, a family in a doll house, and a woman named Edwina who writes about domesticity. Had this dust jacket flap not existed, I might not have caught any of this until half way through. There are clues about what's going on: mentions of plastic milk jugs, Edwina's name pops up, and Noodle the dog who belongs to the 1950s family are three references that let you know what's going on. There are separate "chapters"; however, this doesn't mean you'll stick with one of the three families/time periods. They mix together! I had to utilize the 2 steps forward, one step back method with this book. I would read about 40 pages and then go back a re-read chapters that were REALLY confusing or read the first sentence of each paragraph of those chapters that were less confusing. So, you really have to want to read this book, in my opinion. The last 15 pages or so seem to ramble, so I ended up skimming. The content is so buried in the style that the book seemed more like an exercise in hope of a reward than it did a meaningful reading experience. What if Davis had separated out the three narratives into separate chapters? I could possibly make connections on my own, rather than having her blend them all together.