Take a photo of a barcode or cover
richardwells 's review for:
The Book of Joan
by Lidia Yuknavitch
Gee, I just read this a second time without remembering a bit of it. I even raised its star quotient, though it remains a muddle and a mess (I mean literary mess.) Some very creative concepts, but suspension of disbelief went away the messier (I mean bodily fluids messy) things got. Original review below.
I visualize it as the Michelin Man vs. the Pillsbury Dough Boy.
Deep into the future Joan is gifted with marvelous powers that pretty much cause the destruction of planet earth. The rich and powerful survivors have moved up to CIEL, an alternative environment still tethered to earth, but bound and determined to destroy what little is left while sucking up whatever resources remain. They keep stables of earthlings that are morphing into the above mentioned creatures, featureless, sexless, blobs. Christine, a rebel artist (Christ?) is busy writing the history of earth's destruction and Joan's part in it on whatever body she has - again, reminiscent of the two characters visualized above. Joan is killed multiple times, keeps coming back to life, and raising other poor souls from the dead while dallying with Leone (Lion - Aslan, wtf?) a non-lover lover - no genitalia on what's left of earth either.
Raises some vaguely interesting questions about what it means to be human, the power of narrative, the idea that all history is written on the body (these people do it literally by burning text onto themselves.) Goes into poetic tangents that sometimes work, unbelievable dialogue that is exegesis of feminist theory, and, as a saving grace, a few chapters that are well written prose and move the action forward rather than sinking it in pools of nonsense.
I told myself to avoid any books that cover themselves in praise from other authors rather than critics, but I picked this one up anyway. I swear they're all sucking up to one another hoping they'll get blurbed later.
Pretty close to a waste of time, some near redemptive moments. I'm so done with it I'm not even going to edit this review - so there.
I visualize it as the Michelin Man vs. the Pillsbury Dough Boy.
Deep into the future Joan is gifted with marvelous powers that pretty much cause the destruction of planet earth. The rich and powerful survivors have moved up to CIEL, an alternative environment still tethered to earth, but bound and determined to destroy what little is left while sucking up whatever resources remain. They keep stables of earthlings that are morphing into the above mentioned creatures, featureless, sexless, blobs. Christine, a rebel artist (Christ?) is busy writing the history of earth's destruction and Joan's part in it on whatever body she has - again, reminiscent of the two characters visualized above. Joan is killed multiple times, keeps coming back to life, and raising other poor souls from the dead while dallying with Leone (Lion - Aslan, wtf?) a non-lover lover - no genitalia on what's left of earth either.
Raises some vaguely interesting questions about what it means to be human, the power of narrative, the idea that all history is written on the body (these people do it literally by burning text onto themselves.) Goes into poetic tangents that sometimes work, unbelievable dialogue that is exegesis of feminist theory, and, as a saving grace, a few chapters that are well written prose and move the action forward rather than sinking it in pools of nonsense.
I told myself to avoid any books that cover themselves in praise from other authors rather than critics, but I picked this one up anyway. I swear they're all sucking up to one another hoping they'll get blurbed later.
Pretty close to a waste of time, some near redemptive moments. I'm so done with it I'm not even going to edit this review - so there.