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A review by ulanur
Maps of Our Spectacular Bodies by Maddie Mortimer
Did not finish book. Stopped at 37%.
I have thoughts, not many of them good. I DNF'd this book because I thought it was so bad. Firstly I want to start with an objective-as-possible summary for anyone who might like this book, because it definitely has an audience that will love it (just not me (at all)).
The book is about Lia, who has cancer. It's written in an experimental style that utilizes the font and format to accentuate the mental space that it takes place in, a series of loose vignettes, thoughts, and fleeting moments. It's supposed to be the story of a body ravaged by illness and the loss of a mother, or something.
Now for my personal (PERSONAL!!!) opinion:
This book was an absolute mess. I never ever write negative reviews or rants so I hope that tells you how fucking insufferable I found this book.
Trying *way* too hard, it came off vague, aimless, chaotic, and soulless.
I read 167 pages (40% of the book!) and it was incoherent. I actually could not explain the plot of anything that happened. It suffers from extreme "So Many Smart Words Because I'm Not Like Other Girls" Syndrome.
This book was trying to be Motherhood by Sheila Heti or The White Book by Han Kang (actually great books about life and death and grief) and is instead my bad phone notes poetry from when I was 13. There's a reason experimental books like this are usually quite short, usually less than half the length of whatever this was trying to be, and it's because it gets tedious pretty effing quickly. I could tell you this was a debut book from the first page.
I was trying to look up the author and I didn't find much, but as far as I can tell she's not a mother and I found it completely baffling that she chose a to make her character a mother, because it felt like she had no idea what she was talking about. And I also don't know if she had cancer? I think this story is based on her mother, but I'm not sure. I have lost several close family members, including a sibling, to cancer and I found this book inaccurate (not that everyone's experience with the Big C will be similar), glorifying suffering and toxic relationships, and borderline callous. Dying, or watching someone die, is not some poetic word vomit about coming to terms with life. It's dying. It looks like dying, and it smells like death, and it's miserable, and when you're a child watching someone be eaten alive by their own body you're definitely not playing Word Speak or whatever idiotic thing was in this book. I don't want to take away any of the personal pain the author has (tried) to put into this book, but for myself I honestly wanted to put it through a shredder.
I absolutely do not recommend it.
The book is about Lia, who has cancer. It's written in an experimental style that utilizes the font and format to accentuate the mental space that it takes place in, a series of loose vignettes, thoughts, and fleeting moments. It's supposed to be the story of a body ravaged by illness and the loss of a mother, or something.
Now for my personal (PERSONAL!!!) opinion:
This book was an absolute mess. I never ever write negative reviews or rants so I hope that tells you how fucking insufferable I found this book.
Trying *way* too hard, it came off vague, aimless, chaotic, and soulless.
I read 167 pages (40% of the book!) and it was incoherent. I actually could not explain the plot of anything that happened. It suffers from extreme "So Many Smart Words Because I'm Not Like Other Girls" Syndrome.
This book was trying to be Motherhood by Sheila Heti or The White Book by Han Kang (actually great books about life and death and grief) and is instead my bad phone notes poetry from when I was 13. There's a reason experimental books like this are usually quite short, usually less than half the length of whatever this was trying to be, and it's because it gets tedious pretty effing quickly. I could tell you this was a debut book from the first page.
I was trying to look up the author and I didn't find much, but as far as I can tell she's not a mother and I found it completely baffling that she chose a to make her character a mother, because it felt like she had no idea what she was talking about. And I also don't know if she had cancer? I think this story is based on her mother, but I'm not sure. I have lost several close family members, including a sibling, to cancer and I found this book inaccurate (not that everyone's experience with the Big C will be similar), glorifying suffering and toxic relationships, and borderline callous. Dying, or watching someone die, is not some poetic word vomit about coming to terms with life. It's dying. It looks like dying, and it smells like death, and it's miserable, and when you're a child watching someone be eaten alive by their own body you're definitely not playing Word Speak or whatever idiotic thing was in this book. I don't want to take away any of the personal pain the author has (tried) to put into this book, but for myself I honestly wanted to put it through a shredder.
I absolutely do not recommend it.