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A review by frasersimons
Wandering Souls by Cecile Pin
reflective
sad
medium-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? Plot
- Strong character development? No
- Loveable characters? It's complicated
- Diverse cast of characters? Yes
- Flaws of characters a main focus? It's complicated
2.0
There’s a kind of armour around stories that are ostensibly memoirs, or close to it. It’s hard to critique them because it’s “what happened”, or close to it, making it uncomfortable to pick apart or look at objectively. But they’re also fairly flooding the market and their novels, so I consider them fair game regardless, at this point. Even with direct interjections from an author of the novel and her memories. I didn’t check as to whether or not that aspect was fictional, because it is all fiction. The liminality of what might be auto wasn’t of interest to me, for reasons I’ll go into.
In this case, other than the interjections, which felt a bit weird, but in line with a story that refuses to infuse any amount of specificity. I don’t get on with this style of writing, where the author assumes the person reading can infuse meaning by being told very plainly and blandly what’s happening, thinking it will provoke something. But without nuance and complexity, I usually can’t project that meaning. It’s the something like putting something unspiced or seasoned on my plate and telling me to eat it, then asking what I thought. It was food. I ate it. It was fine, I guess? Had this been the first “meal” of this kind of story, probably it would have elicited more in me.
Because it is simply and quickly told, and because I’ve read many stories like this one, and this one’s craft is not to my taste, I didn’t get anything out of it, and would argue it’s not well written. If the story was based on people’s tellings, perhaps a memoir type format would have served it better, to be honest. But I don’t know what elements are fictitious or not, so maybe that wasn’t in the cards.
In this case, other than the interjections, which felt a bit weird, but in line with a story that refuses to infuse any amount of specificity. I don’t get on with this style of writing, where the author assumes the person reading can infuse meaning by being told very plainly and blandly what’s happening, thinking it will provoke something. But without nuance and complexity, I usually can’t project that meaning. It’s the something like putting something unspiced or seasoned on my plate and telling me to eat it, then asking what I thought. It was food. I ate it. It was fine, I guess? Had this been the first “meal” of this kind of story, probably it would have elicited more in me.
Because it is simply and quickly told, and because I’ve read many stories like this one, and this one’s craft is not to my taste, I didn’t get anything out of it, and would argue it’s not well written. If the story was based on people’s tellings, perhaps a memoir type format would have served it better, to be honest. But I don’t know what elements are fictitious or not, so maybe that wasn’t in the cards.