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3.74 AVERAGE
3.74 AVERAGE
challenging
dark
tense
slow-paced
Plot or Character Driven:
Character
Strong character development:
Complicated
Loveable characters:
Complicated
Diverse cast of characters:
No
Flaws of characters a main focus:
Yes
dark
reflective
medium-paced
This books shows how just important one's imagination really is. It can literally save you or it might just end up killing you. You have hints along the way on what really happened to Sean. John lays it all out on the last chapter.
I'm about halfway through and so far I don't know? What I think? On the one hand, passages emerge from this book that are evocative and achingly beautiful. I know Darnielle mainly from his work with The Mountain Goats, and then to a lesser extent his online presence. I trust him implicitly in matters of emotion and depression, since he's spoken to them so well in other works, and some of that talent comes through on the page here--some, but so far to my mind not enough!
On the other hand, the book feels fragmented, incomplete in a way that I want my novels to be complete. This is probably to some extent on purpose by Darnielle, but it doesn't give me much enjoyment. I wonder how much the sense of incompleteness has to do with the first person narration being tied so closely to the psyche of the main character. Or the fact that it doesn't progress uniformly through time but wanders about through the character's life and memories. Everything is a memory within a memory within a memory. I guess maybe my complaint of incompleteness is one I should wager with the human brain, rather than the book.
I will definitely finish it, though it is tough going at times due to bleakness of subject matter. The tragedy of the teenagers playing his game affects me particularly due to some personal history with the pitfalls of adolescent fantasy worlds. And I do like it. I just want, I don't know--more?
ETA: I finished it and, wow. This book completely won me. I think it happened as soon as I realized it was a suicide attempt, and that completely changed my idea of the character and fleshed him out for me. Beautiful, powerful, frighteningly close to home.
On the other hand, the book feels fragmented, incomplete in a way that I want my novels to be complete. This is probably to some extent on purpose by Darnielle, but it doesn't give me much enjoyment. I wonder how much the sense of incompleteness has to do with the first person narration being tied so closely to the psyche of the main character. Or the fact that it doesn't progress uniformly through time but wanders about through the character's life and memories. Everything is a memory within a memory within a memory. I guess maybe my complaint of incompleteness is one I should wager with the human brain, rather than the book.
I will definitely finish it, though it is tough going at times due to bleakness of subject matter. The tragedy of the teenagers playing his game affects me particularly due to some personal history with the pitfalls of adolescent fantasy worlds. And I do like it. I just want, I don't know--more?
ETA: I finished it and, wow. This book completely won me. I think it happened as soon as I realized it was a suicide attempt, and that completely changed my idea of the character and fleshed him out for me. Beautiful, powerful, frighteningly close to home.
dark
reflective
fast-paced
Plot or Character Driven:
A mix
Strong character development:
Complicated
Loveable characters:
Complicated
Diverse cast of characters:
No
Flaws of characters a main focus:
Complicated
dark
reflective
slow-paced
Plot or Character Driven:
Character
Strong character development:
No
Loveable characters:
No
Diverse cast of characters:
No
Flaws of characters a main focus:
Yes
Wolf in White Van would have made a great song. Unfortunately, it’s a novel, and a dreadfully dull one. It is amazing that a book about a guy with such a vivid imagination can be so boring.
Sean Phillips, the protagonist, is dissociated from himself and life, viewing his parochial world through the lens of a game or film. His refuge is Trace Italian, a game he invents about a post-apocalyptic journey to a safe fortress. Sean’s safe haven is unreachable, literally and figuratively.
The two events around which the story elliptically orbits are framed as having happened in the past, killing any sense that something actually happens in this book. Darnielle teases the reader with frequent references to these two incidents, but I found myself far too uninvested to care to find out. In the words of Sean’s inner monologue: “I feel this drive for diligence or watchfulness, knowing already that there isn't anything worth finding at the beginning”. When the truth is disclosed (which simultaneously takes forever and feels premature), the offhand revelations, though horrific, fall flat. You persevere, desperate to believe that the end will justify the torturous journey. But there is no justification. Just as there is no justification for the two incidents. The message is one of the meaningless banality of tragedy. The point is that it’s pointless. It is an infuriating read.
As you’d expect from such an incredible lyricist, the book is well written. Although there are times when you feel the author is showing off his medical expertise and pages of gibberish game instructions that make you wonder whether his editor was demanding more pages by midnight.
The structure is imbued with metaphor. The chapters, like the protagonist’s face, are a patchwork reconstruction. Moments from childhood, adolescence and adulthood stitched together. Like Sean’s game, the plot baits the reader with the belief that there is a final destination that warrants the journey whilst leading them on a hopeless goose chase filled with doubling back and dead ends. The plot, as far as there is any, comes full circle. But this is not an example of surveying the same scene through different eyes, changed by our experiences. We are not changed. Sean is not changed. The plot intentionally builds to nothing. One can’t help but feel the last joke is on us.
Sean Phillips, the protagonist, is dissociated from himself and life, viewing his parochial world through the lens of a game or film. His refuge is Trace Italian, a game he invents about a post-apocalyptic journey to a safe fortress. Sean’s safe haven is unreachable, literally and figuratively.
The two events around which the story elliptically orbits are framed as having happened in the past, killing any sense that something actually happens in this book. Darnielle teases the reader with frequent references to these two incidents, but I found myself far too uninvested to care to find out. In the words of Sean’s inner monologue: “I feel this drive for diligence or watchfulness, knowing already that there isn't anything worth finding at the beginning”. When the truth is disclosed (which simultaneously takes forever and feels premature), the offhand revelations, though horrific, fall flat. You persevere, desperate to believe that the end will justify the torturous journey. But there is no justification. Just as there is no justification for the two incidents. The message is one of the meaningless banality of tragedy. The point is that it’s pointless. It is an infuriating read.
As you’d expect from such an incredible lyricist, the book is well written. Although there are times when you feel the author is showing off his medical expertise and pages of gibberish game instructions that make you wonder whether his editor was demanding more pages by midnight.
The structure is imbued with metaphor. The chapters, like the protagonist’s face, are a patchwork reconstruction. Moments from childhood, adolescence and adulthood stitched together. Like Sean’s game, the plot baits the reader with the belief that there is a final destination that warrants the journey whilst leading them on a hopeless goose chase filled with doubling back and dead ends. The plot, as far as there is any, comes full circle. But this is not an example of surveying the same scene through different eyes, changed by our experiences. We are not changed. Sean is not changed. The plot intentionally builds to nothing. One can’t help but feel the last joke is on us.
An interesting read, if not a real page turner. I'm left scratching my head as to how much I really enjoyed it, and I think John Darnielle, in this his debut novel, hasn't done a great job of balancing his personal interests against the interests of his readers. Still, short and sweet!
challenging
dark
slow-paced
Plot or Character Driven:
Character
Strong character development:
No
Loveable characters:
No
Diverse cast of characters:
No
Flaws of characters a main focus:
Yes
Content Warnings
Graphic: Body horror, Gore
emotional
reflective
fast-paced
Plot or Character Driven:
Character
Strong character development:
Yes
Loveable characters:
Yes
Diverse cast of characters:
N/A
Flaws of characters a main focus:
Yes