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A review by wallpaperdress
Twin Peaks: The Final Dossier by Mark Frost
4.0
Having been a fan of the Secret History of Twin Peaks, I had high expectations for this book's ability to traverse and link; cataclysmically closing a television series unlike any other in a literal shroud of darkness, rotated by the shrill Laura Palmer scream we should never forget, this book enters from there into a literal fog, and a deepening fog, that answers what fans would think unanswerable prior. Unlike its forerunner, I do not advise reading this without a love for the television series (and prior book), because it almost exclusively deals in the character development, fan questions, and tampering of time interred with the third season. The remainder of this review will include spoilers. Please advise!
We can't talk about this book without talking about Twin Peaks: The Return. I already presupposed the third season creates a permissable evil, as much as we want to champion Special Agent Dale Cooper for what was his apparent Laura Palmer murder reversal. What is so successful about this, apart from the dingy, cheeky, and fun echoes of characters loved and lost at the curtain call, was a reader's growing awareness of this evil. Questioning its success, existence, and, as Tammy Preston writes, memory, we retain subtle hints of ancient lore, of the sexual communion that brings world darkness and destruction, and an inevaporable explosion of filth. It leaves me with a lot of questions--- the potency of the explored locations (New Mexico/Twin Peaks) in terms of their haunting proprietress. When we meet "JUDY," and we do meet "JUDY," it is clear that there is a rubber band of evil vibrating, statically, along this story line, and that is consumptive and brutal. I am fascinated, again, with this book's ties to otherworldly opinion. It can serve companioned to research. Or, you can take it for a slice of cake: pure and delicious entertainment. I think this balance fares well and we can close Twin Peaks at the Blue Rose ending title page that illumines in its perhaps-total-darkness: a proper bookend to an artistic creation that so sweetly convinces you that you understand, but yet you're still so sure there's more going on than you're ever meant to. A concussive success. Mind-bending, or familiar. The juxtaposing of flaky crusted cherry pie, and the Arm, for example. You've got that here again in this book.
Some of my favorite tell-all surprises include: the aggressive answers to Sarah Palmer's history, a fierce re-peak into her hollow, suckered, toothy smile; Where's Annie?, regurgitated and paired with that staining image of Bad (?) Coop cackling at the broken mirror; further information on tulpas, and the stamp of evil and reversal, hearkening to the motel, crossing the lines of realities; and, at last, confirmation at least about Audrey's son, but not her mental, literal, dreaming, or other-wise otherworldly imprison/enlightenment.
There is a lot to be seen here for fans, and it gave me that fifth grade feeling --- the kind where you want to learn, rapidly, and head to the library for all the topical books you can find. Twin Peaks this, and Twin Peaks that. I want to think about it forever! I am a glowing believer in its artistic execution. This book serves its end.
We can't talk about this book without talking about Twin Peaks: The Return. I already presupposed the third season creates a permissable evil, as much as we want to champion Special Agent Dale Cooper for what was his apparent Laura Palmer murder reversal. What is so successful about this, apart from the dingy, cheeky, and fun echoes of characters loved and lost at the curtain call, was a reader's growing awareness of this evil. Questioning its success, existence, and, as Tammy Preston writes, memory, we retain subtle hints of ancient lore, of the sexual communion that brings world darkness and destruction, and an inevaporable explosion of filth. It leaves me with a lot of questions--- the potency of the explored locations (New Mexico/Twin Peaks) in terms of their haunting proprietress. When we meet "JUDY," and we do meet "JUDY," it is clear that there is a rubber band of evil vibrating, statically, along this story line, and that is consumptive and brutal. I am fascinated, again, with this book's ties to otherworldly opinion. It can serve companioned to research. Or, you can take it for a slice of cake: pure and delicious entertainment. I think this balance fares well and we can close Twin Peaks at the Blue Rose ending title page that illumines in its perhaps-total-darkness: a proper bookend to an artistic creation that so sweetly convinces you that you understand, but yet you're still so sure there's more going on than you're ever meant to. A concussive success. Mind-bending, or familiar. The juxtaposing of flaky crusted cherry pie, and the Arm, for example. You've got that here again in this book.
Some of my favorite tell-all surprises include: the aggressive answers to Sarah Palmer's history, a fierce re-peak into her hollow, suckered, toothy smile; Where's Annie?, regurgitated and paired with that staining image of Bad (?) Coop cackling at the broken mirror; further information on tulpas, and the stamp of evil and reversal, hearkening to the motel, crossing the lines of realities; and, at last, confirmation at least about Audrey's son, but not her mental, literal, dreaming, or other-wise otherworldly imprison/enlightenment.
There is a lot to be seen here for fans, and it gave me that fifth grade feeling --- the kind where you want to learn, rapidly, and head to the library for all the topical books you can find. Twin Peaks this, and Twin Peaks that. I want to think about it forever! I am a glowing believer in its artistic execution. This book serves its end.