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allison_reader 's review for:
A Gate at the Stairs
by Lorrie Moore
I shall sum up my feelings about this absurd novel by saying that by last 10 pages I wanted to throw it across the room. I just. couldn't. take it. anymore. So fixated the book is on it's voice, it's need to make countless references, mainly obscure and very unnecessary, under the guise of being highly literary, that I just could not accept it as legitimate. On and on and on. Make it stop!
Someone very close to the main character dies (this is hinted at from the very beginning of and throughout the book), and she finds out she could have prevented it, and this is what she says:
"When Superman went back in time, when he flew backwards around the world at top speed, though he looked very tired, it still seemed as if he might manage a passenger, like those dolphins who give rides to kids. I wanted Superman to take me whooshing with him backwards around the globe. Just to send an e-mail. That was all. Not so much. But what would I say? What grammar, what syntax would hold together sentences in this whizzing flight back? "Both my kids always love the feeling of flying." What punctuation as strong as aeronautic stitchery would I know to bring with me? The apostrophe in 'don't' held together by our bubble gum and seeds? It would do. For a moment or two."
WHAT??? I know, the character is not me, but I'm thinking a little shock, regret, despair or something would be a bit more appropriate that wondering if Superman could have carried a passenger and if her wording would have been correct. It was just endless with this type of description. Everything warranted this weird exhaustive dissecting examination so much so it would take a number of pages for the story to even move along.
Another:
"The piece [of music] was like an elegant interrogation made of tangled yarn, a query from a well-dressed man in a casket, not yet dead. It proceeded slowly, like a careful equation, and then not: if x = y, if major = minor, if death equals part of life and life part of death, then what is the sum of the infinite notes of this one phrase? It asked, answered, re-asked, its moody asking a refinement of reluctance or dislike."
Now, I'm all for well-placed descriptive language, but not ad nauseam. Beautiful, poignant or pertinent descriptive language can lend so much to the narrative, but it's supposed to enhance the narrative, not BE the narrative. This book was also emotionally flat. It deals with a number of very emotional subjects, and I tear up very easily, and not once did I even feel a pull of empathy for any of these characters. I really felt this was a missed opportunity - why focus your novel around impactful life-altering events and then fixate the over-referencing of the minutiae?
It's a shame because in the parts where the story actually got going for more than a page, it was actually very good - it was just riddled with asides, references, similes and more and all these halted what little momentum the book had.
Someone very close to the main character dies (this is hinted at from the very beginning of and throughout the book), and she finds out she could have prevented it, and this is what she says:
"When Superman went back in time, when he flew backwards around the world at top speed, though he looked very tired, it still seemed as if he might manage a passenger, like those dolphins who give rides to kids. I wanted Superman to take me whooshing with him backwards around the globe. Just to send an e-mail. That was all. Not so much. But what would I say? What grammar, what syntax would hold together sentences in this whizzing flight back? "Both my kids always love the feeling of flying." What punctuation as strong as aeronautic stitchery would I know to bring with me? The apostrophe in 'don't' held together by our bubble gum and seeds? It would do. For a moment or two."
WHAT??? I know, the character is not me, but I'm thinking a little shock, regret, despair or something would be a bit more appropriate that wondering if Superman could have carried a passenger and if her wording would have been correct. It was just endless with this type of description. Everything warranted this weird exhaustive dissecting examination so much so it would take a number of pages for the story to even move along.
Another:
"The piece [of music] was like an elegant interrogation made of tangled yarn, a query from a well-dressed man in a casket, not yet dead. It proceeded slowly, like a careful equation, and then not: if x = y, if major = minor, if death equals part of life and life part of death, then what is the sum of the infinite notes of this one phrase? It asked, answered, re-asked, its moody asking a refinement of reluctance or dislike."
Now, I'm all for well-placed descriptive language, but not ad nauseam. Beautiful, poignant or pertinent descriptive language can lend so much to the narrative, but it's supposed to enhance the narrative, not BE the narrative. This book was also emotionally flat. It deals with a number of very emotional subjects, and I tear up very easily, and not once did I even feel a pull of empathy for any of these characters. I really felt this was a missed opportunity - why focus your novel around impactful life-altering events and then fixate the over-referencing of the minutiae?
It's a shame because in the parts where the story actually got going for more than a page, it was actually very good - it was just riddled with asides, references, similes and more and all these halted what little momentum the book had.