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A review by kyleofbooks
The Tenant by Francis K. Price, Roland Topor
1.0
I'm honestly surprised by the mass of high ratings for this one. I found it to be the first major disappointment of 2016 for me.
I previously ordered this little book (and it is little at only 137 pages), with the hopes of reading a seemingly-good, macabre, lesser-known tale of madness. What I came to find upon its conclusion was nothing but boredom and irritation. I began reading this on a train into the city, expecting a quick, disturbing read. I was into it in the barest sense by the time I was heading home again, and practically had to force myself to finish the remaining 30+ pages when I launched myself onto my bed upon my homecoming.
Trelkovsky is not someone I sympathized with in the least. He struck me as a misogynistic, weasel-y man who may or may not be going insane. The progression of his paranoia escalates too quickly, in my opinion. It should have been a slower burn. Once the hallucinations (or were they?) and the came into the picture, I was completely over it. The neighbors pissed me off, because I can see that (all they *allegedly* did) happening, and the frustration it would induce. Although, towards the end, I was sort of rooting for them. I wanted more grotesqueries. More madness. More swirling paranoid delusions. It felt like Rosemary's Baby at some points, and bumbling comedy at others. I don't know if I was meant to chuckle during certain passages or be gasping in horror, but I want everyone to know I was laughing at the book, not with it.
The ending was unexpected (albeit, unclear), I'll give it that, but by then, I found the entirety of The Tenant irredeemably dull.
I previously ordered this little book (and it is little at only 137 pages), with the hopes of reading a seemingly-good, macabre, lesser-known tale of madness. What I came to find upon its conclusion was nothing but boredom and irritation. I began reading this on a train into the city, expecting a quick, disturbing read. I was into it in the barest sense by the time I was heading home again, and practically had to force myself to finish the remaining 30+ pages when I launched myself onto my bed upon my homecoming.
Trelkovsky is not someone I sympathized with in the least. He struck me as a misogynistic, weasel-y man who may or may not be going insane. The progression of his paranoia escalates too quickly, in my opinion. It should have been a slower burn. Once the hallucinations (or were they?) and the
Spoiler
crossdressingThe ending was unexpected (albeit, unclear), I'll give it that, but by then, I found the entirety of The Tenant irredeemably dull.