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A review by katykelly
Quicksand by Steve Toltz
4.0
A Fraction of the Whole was a unique and frankly incredible read. Quicksand is clearly by the same author, with techniques and a voice that stands out almost from page one. And it's good, but for me, it's not quite as good as his award-winning debut.
Though it's still pretty marvellous. Narrated in turn by Liam (a policeman) and Aldo, this is the story of, well - Aldo. Even when we read about Liam, it's still all about Aldo. Possibly the world's unluckiest man. We catch glimpses of his accident-ridden past (murder? court case? accident?) and gradually Toltz takes us through Aldo's life, Liam's friendship with him, and we build up a picture of the life that really does seem to be one of struggling through quicksand that closes over the man struggling for a win, just one win, one lucky break.
Who couldn't pity the man desperate to save his marriage:
"I felt like I was campaigning for my re-election, on the verge of being voted out by my single constituent, voted out of her heart by her head."
But he's also definitely annoying, even when on trial:
"Members of the press, going to bed with a new woman is like having to learn a whole new operating system on the first day of work with the boss breathing down your neck. You can quote me on that."
Aldo is very much like the protagonist's father in A Fraction. Verbose, but annoyingly so, he comes out with all kinds of sometimes nonsensical and sometimes brilliant lines, ideas, ways of living. His history is tragic and yet hysterical - could all of these things REALLY happen to one man? You feel for him and want to clobber him at the same time. Are he and Liam truly friends or does he use his police connection in times of trouble?
The fact that Liam is writing a book about Aldo makes this a little 'meta' - Liam is constantly writing down Aldo's witticisms for his book (his 'true vocation'), Aldo sometimes brings out lines purely for Liam's notes. I wondered how much of Aldo was part of the character, and how much part of his own creation for the character of Liam's book.
Slippery like quicksand, the truth of Aldo seems at hand and then slips further away. Can you trust his version of events? Can this really have been his life? A Marx Brothers comedy could mine it for comic gold scenes, though here the tone never turns slapstick but also never plumbs to the darkest depths of the subject matter either. Pathos fills the last segment as Liam takes up the story again and Aldo's whole story is concluded.
I couldn't decide how I felt about this for much of the running length. It felt like a long book. I could have read A Fraction of the Whole forever, this felt more of a chore, though I did appreciate its subtleties more as I reached the end and looked back on Aldo's life from a position of understanding.
It's funny, and you may laugh aloud. It's clever. It's a sprawling history of a fascinating man. It won't be for everyone, but it does reward the reader patient enough to see it through.
Review of an Edelweiss advance copy.
Though it's still pretty marvellous. Narrated in turn by Liam (a policeman) and Aldo, this is the story of, well - Aldo. Even when we read about Liam, it's still all about Aldo. Possibly the world's unluckiest man. We catch glimpses of his accident-ridden past (murder? court case? accident?) and gradually Toltz takes us through Aldo's life, Liam's friendship with him, and we build up a picture of the life that really does seem to be one of struggling through quicksand that closes over the man struggling for a win, just one win, one lucky break.
Who couldn't pity the man desperate to save his marriage:
"I felt like I was campaigning for my re-election, on the verge of being voted out by my single constituent, voted out of her heart by her head."
But he's also definitely annoying, even when on trial:
"Members of the press, going to bed with a new woman is like having to learn a whole new operating system on the first day of work with the boss breathing down your neck. You can quote me on that."
Aldo is very much like the protagonist's father in A Fraction. Verbose, but annoyingly so, he comes out with all kinds of sometimes nonsensical and sometimes brilliant lines, ideas, ways of living. His history is tragic and yet hysterical - could all of these things REALLY happen to one man? You feel for him and want to clobber him at the same time. Are he and Liam truly friends or does he use his police connection in times of trouble?
The fact that Liam is writing a book about Aldo makes this a little 'meta' - Liam is constantly writing down Aldo's witticisms for his book (his 'true vocation'), Aldo sometimes brings out lines purely for Liam's notes. I wondered how much of Aldo was part of the character, and how much part of his own creation for the character of Liam's book.
Slippery like quicksand, the truth of Aldo seems at hand and then slips further away. Can you trust his version of events? Can this really have been his life? A Marx Brothers comedy could mine it for comic gold scenes, though here the tone never turns slapstick but also never plumbs to the darkest depths of the subject matter either. Pathos fills the last segment as Liam takes up the story again and Aldo's whole story is concluded.
I couldn't decide how I felt about this for much of the running length. It felt like a long book. I could have read A Fraction of the Whole forever, this felt more of a chore, though I did appreciate its subtleties more as I reached the end and looked back on Aldo's life from a position of understanding.
It's funny, and you may laugh aloud. It's clever. It's a sprawling history of a fascinating man. It won't be for everyone, but it does reward the reader patient enough to see it through.
Review of an Edelweiss advance copy.