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A review by jessieadamczyk
Nine Island by Jane Alison
4.0
Alison's sparse language and original descriptions are what make this book worth while. Though it could be easily read in one sitting, it is better to draw the experience out and read her in small intervals, allowing the beauty of her prose to sink into your skin.
I particularly enjoyed descriptions like, "the yolky next day" or "small islands knee-deep in the sea" or "his sudden mouth on my neck feel river-fresh." The silhouettes she draws are unique and drip creative thought. I've not read someone who was able to make me stop and consider her metaphors as often as Alison does, and that is saying something.
However, my praise stops after her stylistic renderings.
Alison tackles heady subjects: death, age, loneliness. I was left not inspired by these subjects, but instead found myself strangely irritated. The prior tropes mentioned were no doubt intentional; the most prevalent sentiment I garnered, however, was self-pity. Even in the midst of so many other lost creatures arguably much worse off than herself (her dying,aging mother, her dying, elderly cat, her unknowingly-dying friend and neighbor, the duck she watches over, even the hotel pool that is damned to be razed), Alison begs the reader to feel sorry for her plight, her terrible luck with men,her marriage which fell to shit because of her intimacy issues and an allusion to prior abuse at the hands of her step-father.
As everyone dies around her, I kept hoping that J (the narrator) would find a new commitment to life. That she would try harder, strive for more, or at the very minimum, find some optimistic outlet. But she doesn't. The best we get is a vague statement that perhaps she and the newly widowed P will find themselves in love at some point in time.
This book is most certainly worth it for the language and I highly recommend it for that reason.
I particularly enjoyed descriptions like, "the yolky next day" or "small islands knee-deep in the sea" or "his sudden mouth on my neck feel river-fresh." The silhouettes she draws are unique and drip creative thought. I've not read someone who was able to make me stop and consider her metaphors as often as Alison does, and that is saying something.
However, my praise stops after her stylistic renderings.
Alison tackles heady subjects: death, age, loneliness. I was left not inspired by these subjects, but instead found myself strangely irritated. The prior tropes mentioned were no doubt intentional; the most prevalent sentiment I garnered, however, was self-pity. Even in the midst of so many other lost creatures arguably much worse off than herself (her dying,aging mother, her dying, elderly cat, her unknowingly-dying friend and neighbor, the duck she watches over, even the hotel pool that is damned to be razed), Alison begs the reader to feel sorry for her plight, her terrible luck with men,her marriage which fell to shit because of her intimacy issues and an allusion to prior abuse at the hands of her step-father.
As everyone dies around her, I kept hoping that J (the narrator) would find a new commitment to life. That she would try harder, strive for more, or at the very minimum, find some optimistic outlet. But she doesn't. The best we get is a vague statement that perhaps she and the newly widowed P will find themselves in love at some point in time.
This book is most certainly worth it for the language and I highly recommend it for that reason.