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3.46 AVERAGE
3.46 AVERAGE
CW:
"Frisk" contains what's likely the single most upsetting sequence I have ever encountered since my literary journey began, and as a whole this novel got me to question the limits of my desensitization to transgressive fiction and to consider what exactly I get out of this stuff, and what entices me to it in general. Even by the standards of the niche, this stuff is extreme - this actually kinda ruined my day, if I'm being completely honest, and this is coming from the enby who could probably clean their room while listening to Swans' "Public Castration is a Good Idea" while "Pink Flamingoes" plays on the telly in the background. Basically, this shit fucked me up. And it did it to such an extent that I was almost angry at Cooper for my guts having been as twisted as they were, feeling almost cruelly manipulated, until I realized this is exactly what he's shooting for here. Regardless of whether I enjoyed the book or not [I didn't at all], this is a successful work of art, almost an anti-novel, really.
Cooper's delivery is effective because he doesn't engage in the sort of condescending and judgmental hand wringing that a lot of meta stuff about violent media can kind of fall trap to, because this is very transparent about there being no possible avenue from which this could be enjoyed. There's no beauty to the utilitarian prose, for one thing, and Cooper using himself as an avatar to enact the violent fantasies portrayed in this book adds a layer of autobiographical substance to it, but he does so by using an extremely unique first person device which is also omnipotent and observes the headspaces and surroundings of every other character, making one aware that all of this is literally constructed. It's all theater, basically, one that Dennis Cooper makes you feel complacent in the more you read it, so that when the most horrifying violence happens, turning the page feels like complicity in atrocity.
So there's something incredibly smart he's doing here, one that transcends the initial disgust and shock of what you're reading. Since we know the violence is fictional, and that it's all only happening as far as the page goes and inside Dennis' constructed fantasies, Cooper challenges us - without beating it over our heads - as to what exactly we stand to gain from indulging in this. Basically, he's using this elaborate metatext on desire to interrogate the concept as a whole - through us bearing witness to Dennis' fantasies of sexual torture and debasement that would make the Marquis de Sade blush, we're desiring to turn the page, see what this is going towards. And in the end all it is is fantasy, and Cooper pulls back this veil for us by totally decoupling fictional violence from its glorification. There is nothing to be enjoyed here, and if there was, then the entire purpose would be undermined.
If this all sounds like one of those "heh, so you enjoy killing in media? Here's why you should feel bad!" type things, it really isn't. The text is too constantly aware of its own artifice and its open relationship to the reader that its intent is subtly drawn yet still un-obfuscated, and the perspective techniques used put the reader squarely in the shoes of every character here, who observe Dennis as subjectively as we would, as he literally sees himself through the perspectives of other people. I think what this is is an exercise in letting us see depravity for what it is, doing so through theater curtains where the play is so similar to reality that we have to think about where the line between fiction and the real is drawn, and the implications this has when it comes to the topic of violence. To say this novel is unpleasant would be like saying the Pacific is a bit wet, but it's also an accomplishment as a thoughtful thematic text, and while I don't think I'll ever read it again because one read serves it's purpose, this is going to stick with me.
Spoiler
EVERYTHING, including the sexual murder of children and extreme sexual violence and depravity in general, seriously do not fucking touch this if you feel you can't handle it"Frisk" contains what's likely the single most upsetting sequence I have ever encountered since my literary journey began, and as a whole this novel got me to question the limits of my desensitization to transgressive fiction and to consider what exactly I get out of this stuff, and what entices me to it in general. Even by the standards of the niche, this stuff is extreme - this actually kinda ruined my day, if I'm being completely honest, and this is coming from the enby who could probably clean their room while listening to Swans' "Public Castration is a Good Idea" while "Pink Flamingoes" plays on the telly in the background. Basically, this shit fucked me up. And it did it to such an extent that I was almost angry at Cooper for my guts having been as twisted as they were, feeling almost cruelly manipulated, until I realized this is exactly what he's shooting for here. Regardless of whether I enjoyed the book or not [I didn't at all], this is a successful work of art, almost an anti-novel, really.
Cooper's delivery is effective because he doesn't engage in the sort of condescending and judgmental hand wringing that a lot of meta stuff about violent media can kind of fall trap to, because this is very transparent about there being no possible avenue from which this could be enjoyed. There's no beauty to the utilitarian prose, for one thing, and Cooper using himself as an avatar to enact the violent fantasies portrayed in this book adds a layer of autobiographical substance to it, but he does so by using an extremely unique first person device which is also omnipotent and observes the headspaces and surroundings of every other character, making one aware that all of this is literally constructed. It's all theater, basically, one that Dennis Cooper makes you feel complacent in the more you read it, so that when the most horrifying violence happens, turning the page feels like complicity in atrocity.
So there's something incredibly smart he's doing here, one that transcends the initial disgust and shock of what you're reading. Since we know the violence is fictional, and that it's all only happening as far as the page goes and inside Dennis' constructed fantasies, Cooper challenges us - without beating it over our heads - as to what exactly we stand to gain from indulging in this. Basically, he's using this elaborate metatext on desire to interrogate the concept as a whole - through us bearing witness to Dennis' fantasies of sexual torture and debasement that would make the Marquis de Sade blush, we're desiring to turn the page, see what this is going towards. And in the end all it is is fantasy, and Cooper pulls back this veil for us by totally decoupling fictional violence from its glorification. There is nothing to be enjoyed here, and if there was, then the entire purpose would be undermined.
If this all sounds like one of those "heh, so you enjoy killing in media? Here's why you should feel bad!" type things, it really isn't. The text is too constantly aware of its own artifice and its open relationship to the reader that its intent is subtly drawn yet still un-obfuscated, and the perspective techniques used put the reader squarely in the shoes of every character here, who observe Dennis as subjectively as we would, as he literally sees himself through the perspectives of other people. I think what this is is an exercise in letting us see depravity for what it is, doing so through theater curtains where the play is so similar to reality that we have to think about where the line between fiction and the real is drawn, and the implications this has when it comes to the topic of violence. To say this novel is unpleasant would be like saying the Pacific is a bit wet, but it's also an accomplishment as a thoughtful thematic text, and while I don't think I'll ever read it again because one read serves it's purpose, this is going to stick with me.
dark
tense
medium-paced
Plot or Character Driven:
A mix
Strong character development:
Complicated
Loveable characters:
No
Diverse cast of characters:
Yes
Flaws of characters a main focus:
Complicated
challenging
dark
reflective
tense
medium-paced
Plot or Character Driven:
Character
Strong character development:
Yes
Loveable characters:
No
Diverse cast of characters:
No
Flaws of characters a main focus:
Yes
Content Warnings
Graphic: Child death, Cursing, Death, Drug use, Gore, Mental illness, Pedophilia, Rape, Sexual content, Sexual violence, Torture, Blood, Excrement, Kidnapping, Murder
Moderate: Addiction, Drug abuse, Incest
Minor: Gun violence
dark
sad
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:
Complicated
father jerusalem slim, i beg of thee, blind the whores
dark
tense
fast-paced
Plot or Character Driven:
A mix
Strong character development:
No
Loveable characters:
Complicated
Diverse cast of characters:
Yes
Flaws of characters a main focus:
Yes
challenging
dark
tense
slow-paced
Plot or Character Driven:
Character
Flaws of characters a main focus:
Yes
Content Warnings
Graphic: Child abuse
challenging
dark
tense
medium-paced
Plot or Character Driven:
Character
Strong character development:
Complicated
Loveable characters:
No
Diverse cast of characters:
No
Flaws of characters a main focus:
Yes
challenging
dark
sad
tense
medium-paced
Gen X Batailles by way of auto-fictive Bret Easton Ellis. Except Cooper did it first, examining obsession and how it trips up the fine line between fiction and reality. What happens when our very identity has always ostracized us to the point of finding different means of pleasures, even when they mimic danger. Danger not even beyond morals, but danger to the self's body.
There is a jejune Caufield-esque language to the book that trips up as YA, but do not be fooled by the prose where flashbacks from The Sluts come rushing in. Cooper does not shy away from the world of kinks and blood and harm. Mix this with Cooper's take on autofiction with a killer final act, we get a sickening read that made me so sick I had to get off a bus during rush hour and just sit and close my eyes.
Cooper creates the uncomfortable in such few pages. And does so masterfully. Transgressive at best. The Sluts hurts at worst. But this is still potent in Cooper's de Sade obsessed world of Genet delinquencies.
*crediting Hajin for Gen X Batailles bit she is writing!!!
There is a jejune Caufield-esque language to the book that trips up as YA, but do not be fooled by the prose where flashbacks from The Sluts come rushing in. Cooper does not shy away from the world of kinks and blood and harm. Mix this with Cooper's take on autofiction with a killer final act, we get a sickening read that made me so sick I had to get off a bus during rush hour and just sit and close my eyes.
Cooper creates the uncomfortable in such few pages. And does so masterfully. Transgressive at best. The Sluts hurts at worst. But this is still potent in Cooper's de Sade obsessed world of Genet delinquencies.
*crediting Hajin for Gen X Batailles bit she is writing!!!
yes dennis your snuff fetish is totally normal and safe we get it....