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A review by aneides
Miss Subways: A Novel by David Duchovny
2.0
2.5*
As an actor, Duchovny is mediocre, albeit attractive and fun to watch. As a novelist, well, hey--at least publishers still include a jacket photo.
That was catty. I didn't hate the book and I thought the premise was quite interesting.
Surprisingly (for such a huge fan of gods and monsters) I have little knowledge of Celtic mythology. A bit more background in Irish folklore would have probably helped with comprehension of this book, and certainly would have enhanced the appreciation of same. That's on me, I suppose, although I don't think I'm alone in this particular educational deficit.
This book is high-concept but with shaky execution. When you're writing something with such lofty literary aspirations, you'd damn well better stick the landing or you'll sound insufferably pretentious. Alas. I also could not relate to the protagonist which is a shame because she didn't seem like a bad sort, she just didn't seem to have much character. Maybe the author was going for an "everywoman" thing. It didn't work for me--I'd rather have disliked a protagonist that seemed more like a person. Also, there was a pretty continual chorus of "show don't tell" echoing through my skull as I read this book.
And--a pleasant surprise--Duchovny did not use this novel as an excuse to rhapsodize about New York City. The city was definitely a character but its presence was not obnoxiously overstated. Thank the gods.
As an actor, Duchovny is mediocre, albeit attractive and fun to watch. As a novelist, well, hey--at least publishers still include a jacket photo.
That was catty. I didn't hate the book and I thought the premise was quite interesting.
Surprisingly (for such a huge fan of gods and monsters) I have little knowledge of Celtic mythology. A bit more background in Irish folklore would have probably helped with comprehension of this book, and certainly would have enhanced the appreciation of same. That's on me, I suppose, although I don't think I'm alone in this particular educational deficit.
This book is high-concept but with shaky execution. When you're writing something with such lofty literary aspirations, you'd damn well better stick the landing or you'll sound insufferably pretentious. Alas. I also could not relate to the protagonist which is a shame because she didn't seem like a bad sort, she just didn't seem to have much character. Maybe the author was going for an "everywoman" thing. It didn't work for me--I'd rather have disliked a protagonist that seemed more like a person. Also, there was a pretty continual chorus of "show don't tell" echoing through my skull as I read this book.
And--a pleasant surprise--Duchovny did not use this novel as an excuse to rhapsodize about New York City. The city was definitely a character but its presence was not obnoxiously overstated. Thank the gods.