Take a photo of a barcode or cover
3.11 AVERAGE
3.11 AVERAGE
Strange, original and intriguing, but not for the squeamish
Well I just finished reading Peach by Emma Glass. This is her debut novel. The main reason why I picked it up was because of the mysterious blurb and the praise by various renowned authors. But the book just didn’t live up to the hype for me.
I gave a generous 3 stars to the book only because of the wordplay. The book just lacked depth and failed massively to portray the gruesome trauma of a rape victim. The few chapters at the end of the book was absurd and surprisingly unpredictable. The only closure I got was from the last chapter and again only because of the wordplay. The protagonist of the book is remembered as not a rape survivor but a victim and it’s a tragedy that the author couldn’t fuel in more power and courage to her character.
Coming to the narrative. It’s freshly brilliant and I don’t remember when was the last time I read such a simulating, metaphorical, poetic and alliterative narrative. The story was flat, but full points to the language. Peach, the book’s eponymous protagonist, chooses words which are both visual as well as oral to describe herself, her emotions and other characters as well – herself through “Hatred coats my tongue. Fuzz on bad fruit.” Her boyfriend Green through “His brown eyes “take root” in Peach’s; …he leaves a splinter.” Her harasser Lincoln as “I sniff. Slime. Sausage. Oil. It smells. Strong.”
I have rated this book as an average one, but I would definitely recommend it to people who love challenging and innovative narratives.
I gave a generous 3 stars to the book only because of the wordplay. The book just lacked depth and failed massively to portray the gruesome trauma of a rape victim. The few chapters at the end of the book was absurd and surprisingly unpredictable. The only closure I got was from the last chapter and again only because of the wordplay. The protagonist of the book is remembered as not a rape survivor but a victim and it’s a tragedy that the author couldn’t fuel in more power and courage to her character.
Coming to the narrative. It’s freshly brilliant and I don’t remember when was the last time I read such a simulating, metaphorical, poetic and alliterative narrative. The story was flat, but full points to the language. Peach, the book’s eponymous protagonist, chooses words which are both visual as well as oral to describe herself, her emotions and other characters as well – herself through “Hatred coats my tongue. Fuzz on bad fruit.” Her boyfriend Green through “His brown eyes “take root” in Peach’s; …he leaves a splinter.” Her harasser Lincoln as “I sniff. Slime. Sausage. Oil. It smells. Strong.”
I have rated this book as an average one, but I would definitely recommend it to people who love challenging and innovative narratives.
What a treat it was to read this novella. Although short, and somewhat dream-like in feeling, the author does not fail to shock the reader just as much as Peach experiences shock following her assault. At times the story becomes confusing: are these people or are they objects? Do they always take on the characteristics of their names?
But it really is so perfect. The more and more you read, the more you become intrigued with Peach's demon and how she begins to handle it. The passage of time is also odd, as the weight she carries increases rapidly, but weather also seems to change paragraph by paragraph. Passage of time and the change that has come over Peach is fluid, as I imagine PTSD would feel. It is a beautiful and tragic tale that deserves every minute of your time, especially for those who do not understand the aftermath of assault and rape.
But it really is so perfect. The more and more you read, the more you become intrigued with Peach's demon and how she begins to handle it. The passage of time is also odd, as the weight she carries increases rapidly, but weather also seems to change paragraph by paragraph. Passage of time and the change that has come over Peach is fluid, as I imagine PTSD would feel. It is a beautiful and tragic tale that deserves every minute of your time, especially for those who do not understand the aftermath of assault and rape.
Absolutely devastating, frightening and painfully intimate. A visceral and surreal story that feels as grotesque, twisted, and beautiful as Hans Christian Andersen fairy tales. Your skin will itch and crawl. Content warning for sexual violence, PTSD, and detailed descriptions of injuries.
I’d heard a small amount of buzz about this book prior to reading, but I mostly knew about it because of the simplicity of the cover image. However, once I started reading, I knew that I probably shouldn’t read any reviews, comments, thoughts, tweets, etc until I had completely finished.
The prosaic flow of the story coupled with the visceral language and surreal nature of the way the story is told, made it quite a jarring read initially – not necessarily bad, but certainly odd and discomforting. Possibly not helped by the fact that most of my reading is done on my commute to and from work, which at around 15mins each way, does not lend itself to this book particularly well. I found myself having to stop-and-start midway through oozingly onomatopoeic passages, making it even more jarring.
I liked this book, I think.
I’m not sure if I would have followed through with reading it, had it not been a book club selection. I found myself feeling a little uneasy and for want of a better word ‘icky’ when reading certain passages but the lengthy, resonating prose leads you down a path – a little like a fairy tale, there were certainly parts that reminded me of Angela Carter and Grimm – and before you know you are well and truly sucked in to the weirdness.
Thank you to Bloomsbury Publishing for sending me a copy of this book.
The prosaic flow of the story coupled with the visceral language and surreal nature of the way the story is told, made it quite a jarring read initially – not necessarily bad, but certainly odd and discomforting. Possibly not helped by the fact that most of my reading is done on my commute to and from work, which at around 15mins each way, does not lend itself to this book particularly well. I found myself having to stop-and-start midway through oozingly onomatopoeic passages, making it even more jarring.
I liked this book, I think.
I’m not sure if I would have followed through with reading it, had it not been a book club selection. I found myself feeling a little uneasy and for want of a better word ‘icky’ when reading certain passages but the lengthy, resonating prose leads you down a path – a little like a fairy tale, there were certainly parts that reminded me of Angela Carter and Grimm – and before you know you are well and truly sucked in to the weirdness.
Thank you to Bloomsbury Publishing for sending me a copy of this book.
4.5 rounded to 4.
Something terrible has happened to Peach, but she just wants life to go back to normal.
Something terrible has happened to Peach, but her parents are too wrapped up in themselves and their new baby to notice it.
Something terrible has happened to Peach, so she cleans herself up and self-administers stitches, tries to ignore the stench of meat and oil that follows her everywhere, tries to ignore flashbacks of a strangers gaping mouth and sausage fingers.
This short powerful book is visceral. Several of the passages are painful to read, they are so harrowingly descriptive. Peach starts off in shades of Eimear McBride and ends up in shades of Beckett, while always holding its own distinctive style. It is utterly absorbing – the reader is sucked into the impressionistic world (Peach is soft and easily bruised, sweet baby leaves powdered sugar on the lips that kiss him…) without question. A heart-breaking examination of the traumatic aftermath of sexual assault, it is astounding that this is a debut novel. Not an easy read, but a hugely important one.
Peach will be published by Bloomsbury in January 2018. I received a copy from the publisher in exchange for an honest review.
Something terrible has happened to Peach, but she just wants life to go back to normal.
Something terrible has happened to Peach, but her parents are too wrapped up in themselves and their new baby to notice it.
Something terrible has happened to Peach, so she cleans herself up and self-administers stitches, tries to ignore the stench of meat and oil that follows her everywhere, tries to ignore flashbacks of a strangers gaping mouth and sausage fingers.
This short powerful book is visceral. Several of the passages are painful to read, they are so harrowingly descriptive. Peach starts off in shades of Eimear McBride and ends up in shades of Beckett, while always holding its own distinctive style. It is utterly absorbing – the reader is sucked into the impressionistic world (Peach is soft and easily bruised, sweet baby leaves powdered sugar on the lips that kiss him…) without question. A heart-breaking examination of the traumatic aftermath of sexual assault, it is astounding that this is a debut novel. Not an easy read, but a hugely important one.
Peach will be published by Bloomsbury in January 2018. I received a copy from the publisher in exchange for an honest review.
Must every sad female narrative end in the water (The Awakening, A Girl is a Half-formed Thing, etc.)? Despite that cliche, this little debut novel is utterly original--a surreal body horror tale that links sex and food, combining the fleshy sin of assault with cannibalistic meat consumption. Glass' incessant commitment to a clipped style sometimes inhibits the wild, wonderful world she's created; perhaps it would be better to let the weird experiment run ever so slightly free.
I feel distressingly ambivalent about this. Some aspects are one star, others are five. An enigma.
Full disclosure: this book is not for everyone. Huge trigger warnings for sexual assault, murder and cannibalism.
While it is not my place to tell people how to read and interpret a book, Peach is obviously a poetic, experimental novella that tackles very real issues with cleverly constructed imagery that does not shy away from the grotesque of the subject matter it intends to tackle. For that reason alone, I commend it.
This book was expertly crafted and beautifully written. Glass’s sharp prose and stylistic choices add so much depth to the story, every sentence felt like a caress and a punch, all at once. It is raw and confusing and unreal, it is visceral and unforgiving: all ways someone who has dealt with sexual assault might feel.
A few of my favourite quotes:
While it is not my place to tell people how to read and interpret a book, Peach is obviously a poetic, experimental novella that tackles very real issues with cleverly constructed imagery that does not shy away from the grotesque of the subject matter it intends to tackle. For that reason alone, I commend it.
This book was expertly crafted and beautifully written. Glass’s sharp prose and stylistic choices add so much depth to the story, every sentence felt like a caress and a punch, all at once. It is raw and confusing and unreal, it is visceral and unforgiving: all ways someone who has dealt with sexual assault might feel.
A few of my favourite quotes:
"Today I decay. I close my eyes to die."
"This solid crass mass stuck in my stomach should lift, should leave. But it festers, it offends."
"A pure sprinkling of white won't hide the hacked mangled mess of flesh. Won't hide my detest."
"As I push my fingers in, I feel a hard sharp shard. I run my fingers over it. There are cracks, there are crevices, rough ridges running deep. The shard is a stone, wedged inside me. A pit sitting snug in the pit of my stomach. It is stuck still to the edges where the flesh has fallen away. Soaking soft flesh. My flesh. My stone. My seed."
Stopped at page 17. This book is not for me.