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dayseraph's review against another edition
At about a 100 pages in, I had to quit this book. The plot was interesting, but there is way too much rape. It's kind of awful.
mamimitanaka's review against another edition
2.0
DNF (after over 200 pages and much thinking it over, so you can't accuse me of not giving this a chance). Been awhile since I've been this conflicted about a novel. There's a lot to like here, but unfortunately for me at least there was a pretty significant amount more to find boring at best and actively repugnant at worst, so the scales sort of tipped over into an overall more negative assessment, albeit not one that isn't at least kept readable by a sort of intrigued ambivalence, if that makes sense, evident by the fact I even read as much of this as I did. Erickson is a fine wordsmith, a great one at times even, and in his best spells is capable of conjuring an atmosphere that successfully works as a counterpoint to many of the famous 20th century postmodernists; just as much of the time however, his prose crosses the line into being genuinely turgid, and you know that's not a criticism I make lightly considering I'm a certified Long Sentence Liker. "Overwritten" I feel like has become one of those words that threatens to veer into meaninglessness given how nowadays it's applied to anything with prose meatier than Hemingway's...but if there had to be one novel I've read over the past year in which the term legitimately applies, it's no doubt this one. Then there's the actual thematic substance of the novel, which at times drives at some really cool things and other times completely falls flat on its face due to dragging weight so unsubtle that a cinderblock to the face would get its point across less boldly.
There's cool stuff being done with language here; Erickson's long winded sentences are, unlike much pomo, in service to character building and psychological portraits of the people within these pages, which is certainly a refreshing avenue to take this down, considering the common conception that the 20th century postmodernists had more interest in characters as symbols or ciphers than fully developed personalities [I'll go to my grave believing that's not true of Pynchon but I digress...]. The problem here, for me, comes down to the [ofc completely subjective, like everything else] way that the complex language actually gets in the way of building strong connections between these characters, either for the reader or between the characters themselves. There are sparks, glimmers of what an interesting character Etcher, for example, could have been if I had actually gotten to know him through action instead of pages and pages of meandering purple prose that ends up inadvertently restating the same things about him over and over. And it's not the elegant sort of restatement, the jazz-like variations on themes that more storied postmodern authors such as Gaddis or Acker are fluently capable of; at its worst, this book just feels like Erickson repeating himself, and it gets reallyyyyy fatiguing after such long stretches of pages where all the most fascinating material is occurring in the background.
But it's not the only subversive aspect of the novel in which the attempt falls flat. Then there's the sexual and racial politics of the book, and there's a lot to unpack here so let's just pour out the whole suitcase. Much of what I enjoyed about the novel came in the first third, a historical narrative honing in on the twisted "relationship" between president Thomas Jefferson and slave Sally Hemings, and while Erickson still fumbles his portrayal of Sally, it's very clear he has a vested interest in her character and how this abusive relationship between one with astronomical power (leader of what would become the most powerful systematic oppressor on earth) and one with no power (a black slave girl in service to that oppressor, both on a personal and hegemonic level) can be used to springboard into wider conversations surrounding power dynamics, sex, the control over narratives and history and how America wields that control, while also never relinquishing either Hemings or Jefferson of their positions as "real" characters, which is important because they were actual living people at one point. Nice! That's the sort of thing that postmodernism, to me, is best at.
If only the book had stayed that way though! Because therein lies the problem that makes this a double edged sword - Sally Hemings was a real, breathing human being, who was also a slave and victim of one of the most historically oppressive incarnations of the capitalist system ever known. So then why, a third through the novel, is her perspective completely shelved in favor of Etcher and Wade, comparatively uninteresting male characters who do not drive at the themes of the novel nearly as well as centering her perspective could have? For a book that's trying so strenuously to drive at feminism via exploring the nature of control in sexual relationships, every single female character here is reduced to an extension of the men, even when Erickson is trying very hard to extend compassion and curiosity. Each sex scene is treated more like erotica, which especially becomes really fucking callous when considering the fact that uh y'know SALLY HEMINGS EXISTED. The initial between Jefferson to Hemings is initially effective because it's ACTUALLY gut wrenching, it's extremely obvious this is meant to be a horrifying point of no return, a sort of nexus point of evil that effects the life of not only Hemings but everyone who is removed of power beneath this system. But in hindsight of all the objectification and turgid erotica found later on in its pages, many of which include eye-rollingly sexualized descriptions of Sally herself, it just ends up feeling disturbing in the way that was the opposite of intended. I know because this book is postmodern and surreal that talking about this I risk getting someone being like ZOMG IT'S NOT SEXIST YOU JUST DON'T GET IT !!!!!1111 - which, sure, fine, I didn't finish the book, and maybe on a reread Erickson could be driving at something here about power dynamics that I missed - but if it has all these problems 200 pages in, consistently doubling down on these themes and repeating them to oblivion, I think I can make a sound judgment. I know Erickson is trying and just fumbling it like a well-meaning grandpa because he obviously has some measure of compassion for his characters given how character-focused this book is, and I think in large part the dark atmosphere of this book is an attempt at subverting that sexist postmodern irreverence, but unfortunately he just ends up falling into the same camp as what he's trying to untangle. So I'm left with the question - why is this book even about Hemings? Why couldn't he have just made up a completely fictional person, untethered to the baggage of a historical slave who actually lived and suffered? Because as it is this book just feels exploitative.
It is by no means a terrible book, more like a 2.5, on the cusp of greatness but just held back by big transgressions. Like I said, Erickson is a good sentence crafter when he wants to be, and seeing as this was an early work I could see how his complex prose could be refined later into something more languid and properly evocative. And as I said in the previous paragraph, the book has a darker and more ominous atmosphere that uses that "genre-bending zaniness and irreverence" for something more dread-inducing than wacky humor or satire, which is no doubt refreshing, and the guy obviously cares about his characters. But my god there's just a lot working against this being anything near a cohesive and satisfying work. In any case, I don't want to judge him based on a single book he wrote early in his career, and I'm sure he could pull what he tries here to a much better and more thoughtful extent in his later works, which seem far more interesting. As it is, for me, this was just a lot of good pieces that were not put together, but just as many bad ones that push the whole thing over like a narrative Jenga game.
And before you comment, please don't ask me to write more negative reviews. I very much value being a Thing Liker, so writing this was pain. T_T
There's cool stuff being done with language here; Erickson's long winded sentences are, unlike much pomo, in service to character building and psychological portraits of the people within these pages, which is certainly a refreshing avenue to take this down, considering the common conception that the 20th century postmodernists had more interest in characters as symbols or ciphers than fully developed personalities [I'll go to my grave believing that's not true of Pynchon but I digress...]. The problem here, for me, comes down to the [ofc completely subjective, like everything else] way that the complex language actually gets in the way of building strong connections between these characters, either for the reader or between the characters themselves. There are sparks, glimmers of what an interesting character Etcher, for example, could have been if I had actually gotten to know him through action instead of pages and pages of meandering purple prose that ends up inadvertently restating the same things about him over and over. And it's not the elegant sort of restatement, the jazz-like variations on themes that more storied postmodern authors such as Gaddis or Acker are fluently capable of; at its worst, this book just feels like Erickson repeating himself, and it gets reallyyyyy fatiguing after such long stretches of pages where all the most fascinating material is occurring in the background.
But it's not the only subversive aspect of the novel in which the attempt falls flat. Then there's the sexual and racial politics of the book, and there's a lot to unpack here so let's just pour out the whole suitcase. Much of what I enjoyed about the novel came in the first third, a historical narrative honing in on the twisted "relationship" between president Thomas Jefferson and slave Sally Hemings, and while Erickson still fumbles his portrayal of Sally, it's very clear he has a vested interest in her character and how this abusive relationship between one with astronomical power (leader of what would become the most powerful systematic oppressor on earth) and one with no power (a black slave girl in service to that oppressor, both on a personal and hegemonic level) can be used to springboard into wider conversations surrounding power dynamics, sex, the control over narratives and history and how America wields that control, while also never relinquishing either Hemings or Jefferson of their positions as "real" characters, which is important because they were actual living people at one point. Nice! That's the sort of thing that postmodernism, to me, is best at.
If only the book had stayed that way though! Because therein lies the problem that makes this a double edged sword - Sally Hemings was a real, breathing human being, who was also a slave and victim of one of the most historically oppressive incarnations of the capitalist system ever known. So then why, a third through the novel, is her perspective completely shelved in favor of Etcher and Wade, comparatively uninteresting male characters who do not drive at the themes of the novel nearly as well as centering her perspective could have? For a book that's trying so strenuously to drive at feminism via exploring the nature of control in sexual relationships, every single female character here is reduced to an extension of the men, even when Erickson is trying very hard to extend compassion and curiosity. Each sex scene is treated more like erotica, which especially becomes really fucking callous when considering the fact that uh y'know SALLY HEMINGS EXISTED. The initial
Spoiler
rape sceneIt is by no means a terrible book, more like a 2.5, on the cusp of greatness but just held back by big transgressions. Like I said, Erickson is a good sentence crafter when he wants to be, and seeing as this was an early work I could see how his complex prose could be refined later into something more languid and properly evocative. And as I said in the previous paragraph, the book has a darker and more ominous atmosphere that uses that "genre-bending zaniness and irreverence" for something more dread-inducing than wacky humor or satire, which is no doubt refreshing, and the guy obviously cares about his characters. But my god there's just a lot working against this being anything near a cohesive and satisfying work. In any case, I don't want to judge him based on a single book he wrote early in his career, and I'm sure he could pull what he tries here to a much better and more thoughtful extent in his later works, which seem far more interesting. As it is, for me, this was just a lot of good pieces that were not put together, but just as many bad ones that push the whole thing over like a narrative Jenga game.
And before you comment, please don't ask me to write more negative reviews. I very much value being a Thing Liker, so writing this was pain. T_T
mehitabels's review against another edition
2.0
"And she watched take flight, like a black moth from his dead mouth, the name of the woman he loved."
shane_tiernan's review against another edition
4.0
Good writing, cool atmosphere, too much sex (I'm definitely not a prude but it was a bit gratuitous). In the middle it seemed like it was going nowhere but the way he linked all the characters together at the end was fabulous.
msaari's review against another edition
4.0
Olen jo oppinut, ettei Steve Ericksonin kirjoilta kannata odottaa selkeää, kiltisti paikoilleen asettuvaa juonta. Tällä kertaa tarina alkaa virginialaisesta Jacob Pollrootista, joka kirjan ensimmäisessä lauseessa maistaa kuolemansa orjansa myrkyttämänä. Orja luonnollisesti teloitetaan, polttamalla. Rovion savun haistaa viisivuotias poika, nuori Thomas Jefferson.
Tästä kirja alkaa, keskiössään Thomas Jeffersonin ja orja Sally Hemingsin välinen suhde. Jollain tapaa — kirjan lukeneenakaan en osaa aivan tarkkaan sanoa miten — Erickson kuljettaa tarinaa futuristiseen teokratian hallitsemaan kaupunkiin ja vuosituhannen vaihteessa maailmanlopun tunnelmissa elävään Berliiniin. Sally pysyy kirjan kantavana teemana, mutta sivuosissa nähdään mielenkiintoinen joukkio, muun muassa amerikkalainen epäonnistunut kirjailija Erickson.
En voi kuin ihailla Ericksonin tapaa rakentaa tarinoitaan. Jotkut liitokset ja rajakohdat tuntuvat vähän hämäriltä, mutta lopulta kaikki asettuu varsin tyylikkäästi yhteen. Tässäkin kirjassa on useita kohtauksia, jotka nähdään useampaan kertaan eri henkilöiden näkökulmista, jolloin aikaisemmat mysteerit saavat selityksen. Muita Ericksonin kirjoja lukeneet saavat lisäksi nauttia jälleennäkemisistä tuttujen henkilöiden kanssa.
Hämärä kirja Arc d’X joka tapauksessa on, eikä se esimerkiksi taivu helpoiksi avainsanoiksi. Merkitään nyt ilmeisten henkilöiden ja paikkojen lisäksi vapaus, sen verran paljon kirjassa puhutaan orjuudesta, rakkaudesta, omistamisesta ja vapaudesta. Kaikessa vaikeaselkoisuudessaan kirja on tutustumisen arvoinen, kuten Ericksonin muutkin teokset. Kustantajat hoi, tässä olisi laadukasta kirjallisuutta suomennosta vailla! (25.5.2009)
Tästä kirja alkaa, keskiössään Thomas Jeffersonin ja orja Sally Hemingsin välinen suhde. Jollain tapaa — kirjan lukeneenakaan en osaa aivan tarkkaan sanoa miten — Erickson kuljettaa tarinaa futuristiseen teokratian hallitsemaan kaupunkiin ja vuosituhannen vaihteessa maailmanlopun tunnelmissa elävään Berliiniin. Sally pysyy kirjan kantavana teemana, mutta sivuosissa nähdään mielenkiintoinen joukkio, muun muassa amerikkalainen epäonnistunut kirjailija Erickson.
En voi kuin ihailla Ericksonin tapaa rakentaa tarinoitaan. Jotkut liitokset ja rajakohdat tuntuvat vähän hämäriltä, mutta lopulta kaikki asettuu varsin tyylikkäästi yhteen. Tässäkin kirjassa on useita kohtauksia, jotka nähdään useampaan kertaan eri henkilöiden näkökulmista, jolloin aikaisemmat mysteerit saavat selityksen. Muita Ericksonin kirjoja lukeneet saavat lisäksi nauttia jälleennäkemisistä tuttujen henkilöiden kanssa.
Hämärä kirja Arc d’X joka tapauksessa on, eikä se esimerkiksi taivu helpoiksi avainsanoiksi. Merkitään nyt ilmeisten henkilöiden ja paikkojen lisäksi vapaus, sen verran paljon kirjassa puhutaan orjuudesta, rakkaudesta, omistamisesta ja vapaudesta. Kaikessa vaikeaselkoisuudessaan kirja on tutustumisen arvoinen, kuten Ericksonin muutkin teokset. Kustantajat hoi, tässä olisi laadukasta kirjallisuutta suomennosta vailla! (25.5.2009)
pastaviking's review against another edition
4.0
This book appeared in a box of things I owned; I have no memory of how I found it, which is quite fitting. Arc d'X was nothing if not fascinating. This book of loose narratives tended to rise and fall like waves, collapsing unresolved into new narratives. Characters walk through walls only to appear in the past. It was like reading Philip K. Dick by way of Terry Gilliam, where the bleak and surreal intertwine. The themes of race and sexual power did not age well, as Erickson is writing from a platform of white privilege. But on the other hand, none of the relationships in this book are about respect, reciprocity, or hope. It is bleak. One of the settings is a humble dwelling atop a spent volcano. A deeply fascinating read for its structure, pacing, and narrative; less so for its content, prose, and clarity.
skolastic's review
3.0
Tough to think of a place to start here. I had come to this because I was kind of fascinated by Erickson's short story (which I guess is now a novel?) Zeroville, and this was the only book of his I ever seemed to find (and it had a glowing blurb from William Gibson, which, that's certainly something).
I finished this book and didn't feel that I enjoyed it. This reviewer: http://quarterlyconversation.com/arc-dx-by-steven-erickson-review and I seem to be mostly on the same page - I almost want to email this person and track them down to talk this out further, because the Lynch connection seems even stronger in light of the Twin Peaks material that's come out between then and now (watch the third season and read this book and tell me they're not on the same wavelength).
Anyhow, that's me digressing. The point in that review I wanted to get to here is this idea of Erickson "breaking the piano", hammering on these metaphors to the point that you kind of lose any sense of what the characters are doing. Twin Peaks is always interesting to me because you have these very human, down-to-earth stories overlapping and bouncing off of the activities of this weird, higher-dimensional battle that the show never really explains all that well. Here, what you do get of that human element (and I'm not saying it's not there, because it certainly is) is wrapped up in layer upon layer of all this other stuff (which, to be clear, is nowhere near as weird as that other stuff is in Twin Peaks, it's just that it feels impenetrable).
Overall, I came away from this feeling like Erickson's a really great writer, but he's just not for me, and that's fine.
I finished this book and didn't feel that I enjoyed it. This reviewer: http://quarterlyconversation.com/arc-dx-by-steven-erickson-review and I seem to be mostly on the same page - I almost want to email this person and track them down to talk this out further, because the Lynch connection seems even stronger in light of the Twin Peaks material that's come out between then and now (watch the third season and read this book and tell me they're not on the same wavelength).
Anyhow, that's me digressing. The point in that review I wanted to get to here is this idea of Erickson "breaking the piano", hammering on these metaphors to the point that you kind of lose any sense of what the characters are doing. Twin Peaks is always interesting to me because you have these very human, down-to-earth stories overlapping and bouncing off of the activities of this weird, higher-dimensional battle that the show never really explains all that well. Here, what you do get of that human element (and I'm not saying it's not there, because it certainly is) is wrapped up in layer upon layer of all this other stuff (which, to be clear, is nowhere near as weird as that other stuff is in Twin Peaks, it's just that it feels impenetrable).
Overall, I came away from this feeling like Erickson's a really great writer, but he's just not for me, and that's fine.
justlucyamelia's review
4.0
More than anything else, this book brought into focus the failings of the five start rating system for me. Not because I had a particularly strong opinion one way or the other that five measly categories couldn't possibly manage to summarise, but rather the opposite.
Reading through the other reviews of this book (all twenty two of them), I was struck by how I empathised with them all. From the people who couldn't make it through the first one hundred pages because it was too uncomfortable - if uncomfortable even comes close - to the people who accepted that it was never supposed to be an easy read. From the people who were genuinely stunned by Erickson's construction of sentences to the people who thought it was pretentious and ridiculous. From the people who thought the structure was a mess to the people who thought it was a revelation.
I do think the book suffered from the inclusion of the Erickson (an American novelist in the book?) and Georgie sections. They made me check the clock on my phone every ten pages - the number one sin in literature - and didn't add much to the narrative. However, I'd definitely say to someone that they should read it, if only it meant that there was one more person in the world to discuss it with, but I couldn't recommend it in the same uncomplicated way I can recommend books I've rated 4+.
Reading through the other reviews of this book (all twenty two of them), I was struck by how I empathised with them all. From the people who couldn't make it through the first one hundred pages because it was too uncomfortable - if uncomfortable even comes close - to the people who accepted that it was never supposed to be an easy read. From the people who were genuinely stunned by Erickson's construction of sentences to the people who thought it was pretentious and ridiculous. From the people who thought the structure was a mess to the people who thought it was a revelation.
I do think the book suffered from the inclusion of the Erickson (an American novelist in the book?) and Georgie sections. They made me check the clock on my phone every ten pages - the number one sin in literature - and didn't add much to the narrative. However, I'd definitely say to someone that they should read it, if only it meant that there was one more person in the world to discuss it with, but I couldn't recommend it in the same uncomplicated way I can recommend books I've rated 4+.
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