A review by maddalenacesco
Cleopatra and Frankenstein by Coco Mellors

dark emotional reflective sad fast-paced
  • Plot- or character-driven? Character
  • Strong character development? Yes
  • Loveable characters? No
  • Diverse cast of characters? Yes
  • Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes

2.75

Thing I liked the most about this book: unlikeable characters.
Thing I liked the least about this book: unlikeable characters.

Unlikeable characters are so beloved, and most importantly, work, because you understand and internalize their psyche. They force a moral conflict inside of you, you catch yourself rooting for people who do bad stuff.
I’ll give props to this book as the author is not afraid to allow them to make mistakes, nor tries to enforce the idea that you’re supposed to like certain people (although you kind of get the idea that the “Cleopatra” of the title is supposed to be the victim and that you should feel sorry for her), but there’s not an instance where you actually feel for any of them. 

My main issue with this book is the characters. 
Sometimes you are first told about the background of a character. 
In these cases, I could predict how they’d be in their relationships with others and with themselves before the getting-to-know-them part, because said character acted perfectly in line with their background.
Other times, you are presented with the character first and then get an insight of their past. Same thing: I could figure out where their issue came from quickly. 
Let’s take the chef Santiago for example: we are told he’s a successful chef in New York and that he has lost his wife, whom he loved very much, years before. 
Having only been given these facts, I can guess:
  1. Santiago’s grief has taken a toll on his mental health - with a stretch, I could predict it might have something to do with food (such as an e.d.)
  2. Santiago might have problems with intimacy
  3. Santiago’s storyline will follow his pursue to reaffirm himself after the loss of his wife 
Thing is, people are made of contradictions, they never follow the straight line you think they will; identical backgrounds cause some to become better, others to become worse. 
Due to this predictability, I often found the characters to be stereotypes:
  • Cleo: struggling but extremely talented artist, beautiful, object of the desire of rich older men, rough upbringing, depressed
  • Frank/Anders (I paired them up because they’re the same person): handsome, very successful businessman, in his forties, womanizer, addict, in love with Cleo
  • Eleonor: cynical, still lives with her mother, low self-esteem.
Cleo’s hippie stepmom embodies the stereotype of the self-obsessed, dizzy yoga mom. Why not throw a bit of intrigue there? She has a PHD. She actually loves Cleo. She was suspected of a murder. I don’t know. 
I understand that the goal was to explore the psyche of the average individual, but this should imply making normality exceptional; that is how we experience reality, by seeing mediocrity as a fabric made of overlapping threads of feelings, fears, hopes and doubts, not as a flat wooden board. I’m not saying the characters should be exceptional, but that exceptionability should lie in their banality.

Showing Cleo had unloving parents allows me to understand why she seeks love and why she is a people pleaser, but it feels like a way to make me care about her. Pity is not a substitute for love.
You can’t care about the fate of a character if you don’t know what they want their fate to be.
The tragedy of a character lies in the gap between where they are and where they want to be. 
It doesn’t have to be something extreme (nor explicit), such as: Cleo wants to murder her stepmom. It can also be: Cleo wants to make is as an artist, or Cleo wants all the men in her life to be in love with her. If I know where Cleo wants to be, I’ll be hooked to her story.
I was very excited by the prospect of many different points of view, but it kinda disappointed me, because how is it possible that the character appear to others exactly like they appear to themselves?
It doesn’t help with the lack of suspence.
Ex:
Santiago seems to like Cleo. 
Santiago actually likes Cleo.
When it comes to unreliable characters, you expect them to lie to themselves, to justify their motifs, to be different to what they appear, to manipulate the truth. 
The characters do bad things, yes, but the sole fact that we are given explanations (such as a description of their upbringing) is an indication they are not flat out bad people. 
If I’m not an inherently evil individual (which goes against the premise of this book) I can self sabotage, but I’ll find ways to justify, if not most, a least some of my actions.

If I didn’t receive the love I needed from my father and I seek relationships with older men, cheating on my husband will be a pattern, not an isolated case. And before I can recognize why I follow this pattern, I probably won’t have the objectivity to identify the cause in my childhood, but I’ll try to justify it: my husband doesn’t give me the attention I feel I deserve/I feel trapped in my relationship/I’m lonely.

My last issue is with the relationships: Relationships are the foundation of this book, so why don’t we ever have a chance to actually see them growing? We have glimpses of pivotal moments, we are handed pre-existing friendships, we cannot savor the building of trust and intimacy that comes from simple daily interaction.

The writing was really good, I enjoyed it. Ironically, that's the main issue: I can't give 3 stars when I know you can easily reach 5. I liked the descriptions of New York. If the characters hadn’t had as much potential as they had or the writing was a little less good, I would’ve let it slide, but I expect more where I know there can be. 
Also, the first dialogue was a little too fan fiction-ish.


Expand filter menu Content Warnings