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A review by octavia_cade
InfernoL A Poet's Novel by Eileen Myles
3.0
I don't really know what I was expecting when I picked this up. It's got an interesting premise, and though it's ostensibly a novel it reads more like memoir. It's hard not to think that this novel about a poet isn't influenced by the life of the poet who wrote it. Granted, I wasn't familiar with Myles before this, so I don't know how much of this comes from real life and how much is made up out of whole cloth, but I suspect it's weighted heavily to the former.
And, you know, I enjoyed it. I don't think it's anything particularly startling - a novel structured after a poem and presented in a disjointed, interesting sort of way, but for all I get the feeling that Myles and Inferno are supposed to be confronting and perhaps uncomfortable, a wee bit shocking, I just found it mildly pleasant. Some of that's down to plot, I suppose - it hits every note you'd expect of a young poet trying to make it in New York (not that I've ever been a young poet trying to make it in New York, or even known one, but you do sort of absorb expectations of an artistic urban life almost by osmosis.) Most of my enjoyment, however, is due to the language, which if not always to my taste - I prefer prose with a bit more lyricism to it - slips down so easily, almost seamlessly. As I said: pleasant, and I don't mean that in a negative way. I read it in sunshine and it suited the day.
And, you know, I enjoyed it. I don't think it's anything particularly startling - a novel structured after a poem and presented in a disjointed, interesting sort of way, but for all I get the feeling that Myles and Inferno are supposed to be confronting and perhaps uncomfortable, a wee bit shocking, I just found it mildly pleasant. Some of that's down to plot, I suppose - it hits every note you'd expect of a young poet trying to make it in New York (not that I've ever been a young poet trying to make it in New York, or even known one, but you do sort of absorb expectations of an artistic urban life almost by osmosis.) Most of my enjoyment, however, is due to the language, which if not always to my taste - I prefer prose with a bit more lyricism to it - slips down so easily, almost seamlessly. As I said: pleasant, and I don't mean that in a negative way. I read it in sunshine and it suited the day.