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A review by books_n_pickles
Miss Subways by David Duchovny
5.0
4.5/5 stars, if I could.
I came around to this one after some initial misgivings, and I'm so glad I did. It was a little tough getting through the first couple chapters, when I felt like the male author was breathing down my neck going, "Look how well I can write a female character!" But Emer came into her own during the quickly-arriving second part, and apart from a few paragraphs with a whiff of male self-congratulation, the characterization was absolutely wonderful.
I'm not familiar with the myth of Emer and Cuchalain (I'm deliberately not looking it up until I've posted this), but the book is divided into three parts that are essentially alternate universes. Duchovny does an excellent job of tying these together--Emer feels authentic and real across all three sections, definitely shaped differently by the circumstances in each reality, but also definitely the same person. It's an impressive feat that, unfortunately, doesn't feel quite as successful for her love interest, Con.
I have to admit that the description made me hope for something a little bit like [b:American Gods|30165203|American Gods|Neil Gaiman|https://images.gr-assets.com/books/1462924585s/30165203.jpg|1970226]/[b:Neverwhere|14497|Neverwhere (London Below, #1)|Neil Gaiman|https://images.gr-assets.com/books/1348747943s/14497.jpg|16534] in New York, but less heavy-handed on the fantasy. I knew it wouldn't be fair to expect a book to rise to the level of Gaiman, and that's okay. Not every seemingly throwaway element pops back up later as an unexpectedly critical plot point, and there are a few dreamy sequences that don't seem to have much purpose beyond providing a metaphor for an obscure old world god among us. Gaiman feels gritty and definitely fantastic and impossible; Miss Subways feels dreamy and softer and magical (probably why people have shelved it "magical realism"). And it's honestly lovely that way.
I'm a little worried that this description sounds too critical. I really enjoyed the book and would even have loved a whole book about Emer's ordinary-ish second life--as a kindergarten teacher with a fun and out-there friend, a boss who's kind of scary but also pretty awesome, a dad who's ageing less than gracefully, and a life with its quirks and glimmers of magic among the ordinary. Emer is really a great character, quietly hilarious, self-aware without taking herself too seriously. Duchovny seems to do characterization very well, and I hope I have a chance to experience more of his work...if my massive reading list ever allows.
Quote Round-Up
I mostly marked little familiar-feeling slice-of-life scenes, so not too many quotes this time.
110)
"A bird! As in English-speak for 'girl'? You're one of us now? Welcome to the team!"
"No, a bird bird."
"Oh, like Polly Wanna Cracker?"
"More like that, yeah. A baby crow I rescued from the street."
"So are we talking about sex? At all?"
"Nope. Bird. Corvus, I call him."
"Well, that's pretentious."
"C'est moi."
"I'm pretty sure this is the wrong direction. But at least he's black."
This is exactly why I could read a whole book about Emer's second, "ordinary" life. I feel like this is somewhere between the life I lead and the life I'd like to lead. That's probably pretty pretentious, myself.
270)Late in the book, but not a spoiler, I promise.
She was stopped and pigeonholed by a few upperclassmen, former students who wanted to show off how mature they'd become. Though it was mildly unsettling when the fifteen-year-old boys wanted to flirt harmlessly with their passably hot former grande school teacher, calling her by her first name or using "Ms. Emer" with sly imprecise irony, Emer knew they simply yearned for acknowledgement as the men they'd become, or were becoming. Emer understood it was her duty to mirror their masculinity back to them without confusing them with any actual intent, crossing any lines, or blurring any boundaries. She knew how to do it, how to act slightly abashed yet impressed at their literally sophomoric innuendo.
This was one of those sections where I felt torn between a sense of authenticity and hyper-awareness that this female character is being written by a male author. Definitely familiar-felling analysis, but more clinical than complex-emotional. It ends up just feeling odd and conflicting.
(Skimming through my noted quotes, I do worry that the pop-culture references may date this book quickly.)
I came around to this one after some initial misgivings, and I'm so glad I did. It was a little tough getting through the first couple chapters, when I felt like the male author was breathing down my neck going, "Look how well I can write a female character!" But Emer came into her own during the quickly-arriving second part, and apart from a few paragraphs with a whiff of male self-congratulation, the characterization was absolutely wonderful.
I'm not familiar with the myth of Emer and Cuchalain (I'm deliberately not looking it up until I've posted this), but the book is divided into three parts that are essentially alternate universes. Duchovny does an excellent job of tying these together--Emer feels authentic and real across all three sections, definitely shaped differently by the circumstances in each reality, but also definitely the same person. It's an impressive feat that, unfortunately, doesn't feel quite as successful for her love interest, Con.
I have to admit that the description made me hope for something a little bit like [b:American Gods|30165203|American Gods|Neil Gaiman|https://images.gr-assets.com/books/1462924585s/30165203.jpg|1970226]/[b:Neverwhere|14497|Neverwhere (London Below, #1)|Neil Gaiman|https://images.gr-assets.com/books/1348747943s/14497.jpg|16534] in New York, but less heavy-handed on the fantasy. I knew it wouldn't be fair to expect a book to rise to the level of Gaiman, and that's okay. Not every seemingly throwaway element pops back up later as an unexpectedly critical plot point, and there are a few dreamy sequences that don't seem to have much purpose beyond providing a metaphor for an obscure old world god among us. Gaiman feels gritty and definitely fantastic and impossible; Miss Subways feels dreamy and softer and magical (probably why people have shelved it "magical realism"). And it's honestly lovely that way.
I'm a little worried that this description sounds too critical. I really enjoyed the book and would even have loved a whole book about Emer's ordinary-ish second life--as a kindergarten teacher with a fun and out-there friend, a boss who's kind of scary but also pretty awesome, a dad who's ageing less than gracefully, and a life with its quirks and glimmers of magic among the ordinary. Emer is really a great character, quietly hilarious, self-aware without taking herself too seriously. Duchovny seems to do characterization very well, and I hope I have a chance to experience more of his work...if my massive reading list ever allows.
Quote Round-Up
I mostly marked little familiar-feeling slice-of-life scenes, so not too many quotes this time.
110)
"A bird! As in English-speak for 'girl'? You're one of us now? Welcome to the team!"
"No, a bird bird."
"Oh, like Polly Wanna Cracker?"
"More like that, yeah. A baby crow I rescued from the street."
"So are we talking about sex? At all?"
"Nope. Bird. Corvus, I call him."
"Well, that's pretentious."
"C'est moi."
"I'm pretty sure this is the wrong direction. But at least he's black."
This is exactly why I could read a whole book about Emer's second, "ordinary" life. I feel like this is somewhere between the life I lead and the life I'd like to lead. That's probably pretty pretentious, myself.
270)Late in the book, but not a spoiler, I promise.
She was stopped and pigeonholed by a few upperclassmen, former students who wanted to show off how mature they'd become. Though it was mildly unsettling when the fifteen-year-old boys wanted to flirt harmlessly with their passably hot former grande school teacher, calling her by her first name or using "Ms. Emer" with sly imprecise irony, Emer knew they simply yearned for acknowledgement as the men they'd become, or were becoming. Emer understood it was her duty to mirror their masculinity back to them without confusing them with any actual intent, crossing any lines, or blurring any boundaries. She knew how to do it, how to act slightly abashed yet impressed at their literally sophomoric innuendo.
This was one of those sections where I felt torn between a sense of authenticity and hyper-awareness that this female character is being written by a male author. Definitely familiar-felling analysis, but more clinical than complex-emotional. It ends up just feeling odd and conflicting.
(Skimming through my noted quotes, I do worry that the pop-culture references may date this book quickly.)