Review: Crapalachia by Scott McClanahan

Posted by greengeekgirl — May 19, 2013

Book: Crapalachia

Author: Scott McClanahan

Published: March 2013 by Two Dollar Radio

First Lines: “There were 13 of them. The children had names that ended in Y sounds.”

Rating: 4.25/5 calls to 911 to get the ambulance to take you to the store to buy 7-Up for your son

HOLY BALLS YOU GUYS I AM WRITING A BOOK REVIEW. Yes, yes, I actually read my ass a book and now I’m reviewing the motherfucker*.

*Apologies to Scott McClanahan and Two Dollar Radio for referring to the book as “motherfucker.” I have no evidence at all that the book fucked any mothers.

I didn’t know anything about Crapalachia when it arrived in my mailbox. I didn’t read the blurb on the back of the book. I knew two things going into it: one, that Scott McClanahan had a somewhat cheeky way of referring to Appalachia, to which I can relate, having my own roots sprawling through the same area of the world; two, as a setting, it would (or should) feature highly in the book, since the cover had “A biography of a place” as the tagline.

I have no damn idea how to sum up how I feel about this book, and that’s the truth. So, I’m not going to try to sum it up. Here are some thoughts I had about this book:

I didn’t get any sense of place from the book, even though Appalachia seemed to be intended to be present enough to be an additional character. I grew up in Kentucky and my mom lived in West Virginia (where the book takes place), so I admit I had some expectations; I didn’t really feel Appalachia in this book. Other than some brief references to coal miners and coal mining, it could have been set in a bunch of different places.
After I readjusted my brain from expecting a story about Appalachia, I thought his stories about his family were just about perfect. So much so that I actually just deleted a bunch of stuff I wrote and bumped up the star rating a half-star. No, it wasn’t the book I expected to read. But it was a book I really enjoyed reading once my brain wrapped itself around the actuality of the book.
I found McClanahan’s style a little jarring at first, but it smoothed out quickly.
People who liked Running With Scissors and/or The Perks of Being a Wallflower will probably enjoy this book. Or people who generally like books featuring fucked-up families.
I’m half-saddened, half-happy that McClanahan felt the need to add an appendix to the book to talk about what was true and what he had taken liberties with. Saddened for the obvious reason–has it really become necessary to strip away the magic of a book because some people can’t friggin’ figure out that literature is not the same thing as journalism? (Thank you, James Frey, for putting one over so hard on Oprah that this is now a Big Fucking Deal.) McClanahan, however, handled the appendix so well that it was a great addition to the book. I’ve read other books where the “confession” retroactively diminished the power of the story I’d read, but this one didn’t, and I was glad.
Reading this book directly after reading a book by Barbara Kingsolver is probably not the best idea and might have been what flummoxed my brain.

Overall: yes, I think this is a book to read. Once I stopped looking for Appalachia, the magic of the stories got under my skin and wouldn’t let go. The characters rolled off the page and tapped me on the shoulder. I laughed and I grew somber. I felt. I related. Good job, Mr. McClanahan.

Read this book! The Booksluts Discuss: How to Get Into the Twin Palms by Karolina Waclawiak

Posted by greengeekgirl — September 6, 2012

Book: How To Get Into the Twin Palms

Author: Karolina Waclawiak

Published: August 14, 2012 by Two Dollar Radio

First Lines: “It was a strange choice to decide to pass as a Russian. But it was a question of proximity and level of allure.”

Amy’s rating: 4.5/5 girls defiantly dyeing their hair with box colors not found in nature

Susie’s rating: 4.5/5 nights sleeping on bare mattresses because you both can and can’t stand the thought of his sweat touching you

It’s been a minute since we did a discussion post, but when I flipped over the last page of How To Get Into the Twin Palms, I immediately knew that this book would be the next one. I needed to read this book with my comrade-in-blogging Amy, even though it meant that I had to say goodbye to my lovely, deckle-edge copy (that I of all people wanted to hang onto a physical copy is telling–the printer does gorgeous work) so I could put it in the mail to New York. Womp womp.

Twin Palms follows a young woman who calls herself Anya. The book takes place during a time in her life that she might look back on in ten years and call a “transitional period.” Anya has lost her job, and, in that hazy twilight of being not-quite-employed, decides to reinvent herself with one goal in mind: to become Russian, rather than Polish, so she can go into the swanky Russian club across the street. When she makes Lev’s acquaintance, she knows it’s only a matter of time before she can gain entry. Twin Palms has resonance, humor laid over a pulsing knot of emotion, and a clear, clean voice that you’ll want to read more of in the future.

Susie: So, I’m glad you didn’t end up like, hating the book, since I basically strong-armed you into reading it.
Susie: I had all of the excitement for it.
Amy: No, it was good. Very good. I don’t think I’d 5-star it – probably 4.5 – but very very good. (And I don’t know why it’s not a 5. It’s missing…something. But I don’t know what.)
Susie: Yeah. I tend to be stingy on the five-stars anyway. Very few books are that perfect.
Amy: I think it maybe left too many loose ends for me? But then I thought, eh, life’s full of loose ends, not everything ties up neatly. So it was probably on purpose.
Susie: I didn’t get the sense of unresolved plot point rage, so I’d guess it was intentional. I liked it, actually–I would often rather a book leave some things to mystery than try to tie everything up neatly.
Amy: Yes. There’s definitely a fine line between everything being TOO neat – which I hate, that’s not realistic – and then leaving way too many danglies so the reader’s like…um…what about…and what about…WHAT HAPPENED?
Susie: I really identified with the protagonist in this book. She reminded me a little bit of Della from Zazen.. not that they are the same, but almost sisters in a way.
Amy: I like a protagonist who’s a little bit lost and a little bit searching, because that’s me, and that’ll always be me. I find that easy to relate to. And yes, I agree – this book had a Zazen-esque feel too it. Similar protagonists – both young women that didn’t quite fit in, that were doing their best. I liked them both a lot, felt for them both a lot.
Susie: And both part of very distinct subcultures. The divide between the Polish and Russian cultures in LA interested me, because as Americans, we can tend to gloss “Eastern European” into one big lump at times.
Amy: I found that interesting, too. I loved the food and the culture. And the language! I’m such a language whore. I was repeating the words in what I’m SURE was mangled pronunciation and grinning to myself.
Amy: The sensory input in the novel was fantastic. She really excelled there. You smelled things, you felt things, you saw things.
Susie: It took me back to when I lived in Anaheim. We lived there during the time that Irvine was on fire.
Amy: I’ve never lived anywhere where there was a fire, and she really brought me there. I was impressed. Loved Anya in the pool covered in ash.
Susie: It was like that, just like she described. The air was heavy and smoky.. we were a little far away to get the ash, I think. I remember we went out to get doughnuts one night–I have no idea why, since everything was on freaking fire–and we couldn’t drive with the windows down. The doughnut shop was deserted, just us and the guy behind the counter, watching the fires on the news in silence. The city was silent, for being as populated as it was. Twin Palms put me there again, fully.
Amy: I’m a firebug. I understood her need to be closer to it, her obsession with it, and her…um…I don’t want to spoiler. Fire’s cleansing. And a good way to put a period at the end of a sentence.
Susie: I thought it was a great way to set the mood for that time in Anya’s life. It feels different, when you’re near fires like that–everything feels different, like an emergency. You’re taken out of your normal life. It fit well with her circumstances.
Amy: I also loved her constant need for change. Her hair color. Me in college. Didn’t have the same hair color three months running for probably ten years.
Susie: I connected with her conflicting feelings about Lev. How she wanted to roll around in his smell one minute, and how it disgusted her the next minute. I’ve been down that road a few more times that I’d care to publicly confess (catches herself before posting a broad estimate).
Amy: Lev! I liked him, but he was also a dog. I guess he was just used to getting what he wanted from women. I loved how once she got into the Twin Palms it wasn’t what she’d been dreaming. How many times has that happened in my life? ALL.
Susie: I KNOW. And her experiences inside the club–it’s jarring when you’re involved with something that’s all-consuming and you realize there’s a completely other point of view to your actions, one that might not be so . . . pleasant.
Amy: YES. When you finally see the other point of view, you can open up enough to see it? It changes you a little. It remakes who you are, what you’ve been doing all that time.
Susie: Do you think she’ll ever run across the fireman again?
Amy: I think he represented a cleaner, better life. The American dream, I guess. And I don’t know if she’s there yet, or if she ever will be. Or if she ever even really WANTS to be!
Susie: So, two thumbs up to Twin Palms.
Amy: I do highly recommend it. I also love The Believer, and the author edits for them (it’s a publication of McSweeneys!).
Susie: She’s also on Twitter @BelieveKarolina (cos, I stalked her a little after I finished–in a non-creepy way).
Amy: Oh, will have to find her! I’ll want to know when her next book comes out. She’s one to keep an eye on, if her first book was this good.
Susie: I KNOW. I devoured it. I needed to read something that good.

I read Twin Palms weeks ago, but the story still haunts me. If I had to suggest one book from 2012 (so far) to read, it would be a very close race between this book and Dora: A headcase. What about you guys? Have you read Twin Palms yet? Do you think you’re going to read it? You know where the comments go.

(Related: a review of Twin Palms from TNBBC, for those who like more traditional reviews.)

Review: Radio Iris by Anne-Marie Kinney

Posted by greengeekgirl — April 6, 2012

Book: Radio Iris
(Powell’s) (Publisher)

Author: Anne-Marie Kinney

Published: Available May 2012 from Two Dollar Radio; 208 pages

First Lines: “Iris feels goosebumps rising on her arms, but hesitates to touch the thermostat. Her synthetic leather pumps are filling with sweat, creating an embarrassing squeak when she walks, but those tiny bumps on her arms are rising up in mute defiance.” (Read excerpt)

Genre: Literary fiction

Rating: 3.95/5 dropped phone calls from a brother who can’t be bothered

Radio Iris, Anne-Marie Kinney’s debut novel, perfectly captures the minutiae of a lonely life. The novel follows the protagonist, Iris Finch, as she watches her life unravel from the small space between the wall and the desk where she does her work as a receptionist. She falls constantly in and out of daydreams, develops an obsession with the man in the suite next to her office, and tries desperately to reach out to her brother, who has long since slipped from her grasp. Iris stays on the eccentric side of crazy, but only just; as things become weirder around the office, she forms odd habits such as labeling everything with hidden messages and spending her days spying on the neighboring suite–even going so far as to drill a hole in the wall to see better. Iris is banging on every closed door, metaphorically and sometimes literally, by the end of the novel, and nobody’s letting her in; when doors are open to her, she doesn’t want to go through them.

Kinney’s writing is lovely, striking a delicate balance among ennui, existential terror, and the pioneer spirit that comes out when one has nothing at all left to lose. The whole time I was reading the book, though, I was struck with how much it reminded me of the novella Shopgirl by Steve Martin. Both protagonists were young-lady loners who were reaching out for something more, both were doing jobs that were becoming increasingly obsolete and in danger of falling through the cracks, both have become obsessed with men who aren’t becoming obsessed back with them. Both books had a pervasive sense of emptiness with darkly humorous edges. On the whole, I think I like Radio Iris better. Kinney’s protagonist feels more real, and I relate to her more. (Possibly because Kinney is an actual woman writing the character–as much as Steve Martin is a lovely writer, you can always feel his man’s eyes looking at his female protagonists, which makes them less real, more like a portrait or a photograph.)

I also felt a sense of . . . wanting to turn up the volume on certain parts. I didn’t feel that everything got resolved, although I thought the book overall had a satisfactory ending. I felt, too, that the book focused just a little too much on the everyday of the everyday; while Kinney has a sharp gift for drawing the significance out of the mundane, I thought the big picture of the novel might have gotten lost in the details.

Despite a few minor nits, I really enjoyed Radio Iris. It spoke to the socially-awkward dork in me, and I had a hard time putting it down. If Kinney continues to write novels, she’s one to keep an eye on in the future; I’m already curious what she’ll write in the next one!

The Booksluts Discuss: The Drummer by Anthony Neil Smith

Posted by greengeekgirl — March 8, 2012

Book: The Drummer

Author: Anthony Neil Smith

Published: September 15, 2006 by Two Dollar Radio; 228 pages

Date Read: February 2012

First Lines: “The bleached-blond fancy boy stood in the doorway of this small bar at the edge of the French Quarter hoping to be recognized, but those days were long gone.”

Genre: Mystery

Susie’s rating: 3/5 questionable groupies waiting for you backstage

Rob’s rating: 4/5 heavy metal drum solos

I picked out The Drummer for us to read because of Rob. Rob has a ‘thing’ for drummers–in case you can’t tell by her avatar picture being not her, but a photo of Dave Grohl. (Yeah, I know Dave is not the drummer for the Foo Fighters. HISTORY, people.) The Drummer is a gritty rock-and-roll mystery that centers around a former drummer, Cal–only, everyone who knows him now thinks his name is Merle. Merle’s been on the run, you see; after faking his own death, he’s been hiding out in New Orleans and living off of money that probably belongs to the IRS. His former bandmate discovers him and tries to blackmail him into a reunion tour; the whole deal goes horribly wrong for both of them when the bandmate dies in a posh hotel room. Merle gets sucked into the machinations of a shadowy figure who is determined to get the band back together or ruin–or even end–his life trying; everything Merle has built for himself begins to unravel, and he must figure out how to escape intact.

Susie: What did you think about it?
Rob: I liked it muchly. It was definitely my kind of book–loved all the music references.
Susie: I hoped at least one of us would like it. I found it easy to read, but I developed a distinct dislike of every character in the book by the time it was over.
Rob: Yeah, they weren’t a lovable bunch, but I liked all the flaws. It portrayed the music business very well; most of the people in that business tend to be selfish fucks. I liked his writing style too… no frills.
Susie: Uh huh. You know I have no love for selfish fucks.
Rob: The seediness of it reminded me very much of Ryu Murakami; Almost Transparent Blue came vividly to mind. Merle was such a damn wreck at the end, which also put me in mind of Carl Hiaasen–he tends to put his characters through the wringer, especially the selfish fucks.
Susie: He did remind me of Hiaasen, but not as funny. And after Smith started talking about Merle’s relationship with Beth, I wanted to crawl into the pages and pimp slap Merle.
Susie: Talking about Beth: “I had to kill Merle Johnson and split town, I wanted this woman, every part of her, before I left.” (groan)
Rob: ‘Merle’ was a little fucked up; he had a penchant for hooking up with psychotic women.
Susie: Yes. The transparent reason behind him being so enamored of angelic Beth . . . only, Beth had all the personality of a blowup sex doll with no holes in it.
Susie: I do have a beef, not so much with this book in particular but with books in general: why is it that hardly any author can come up with a believable fake band name?
Rob: ‘Savage Night’… Christ.
Susie: Right? And it’s not just Smith, I’ve almost never read a fake band name that I believed.
Rob: I’m thinking about it… neither have I. That’s weird.
Susie: Authors, y’all need to get on this. Maybe consult a few musicians.
Rob: I liked the portrait of Todd though; it was dead on. The arrogant, fucked-up singer.
Susie: I agree, I believed Todd. Although the fights between him and Merle were probably like, one too many.. we re-covered a lot of the same ground with them.
Rob: Yeah. that’s pretty realistic though, too; it tends to be chronic. Drummers never seem to get along with their lead singers; I don’t know why. It’s one of the reasons why bands tend to go through lots of drummers.
Susie: Yeah. But, you know, dramatic arc and all. I felt like it needed to go somewhere sooner.. like, right, I got it, they are pissy, can we move to the next scene please?
Rob: Points for accuracy if not dramatic arc. I would have liked to have seen more about Alison; her pathology would have been fascinating, but you can’t really go there with first-person narrative. You’re stuck seeing only what the narrator sees.
Rob: You know what kept bugging me? He kept describing his sweaty, smelly, bloody self, and he never takes a fucking shower. The visceral image was making me absolutely nuts.
Susie: Aww, that made me throw up in my mouth a little.
Rob: It’s true though, didn’t you notice that? He’s a fucking mess, but he never thinks about or takes a fucking shower or bath through the whole goddamn book. It was distracting as hell.
Susie: Uh-uh, I didn’t notice. I tend to miss that kind of stuff, though, unless it’s made apparent–I just assume it is happening off-camera, so to speak.
Susie: To wrap up my thoughts–I didn’t love it. I thought it was written okay, but neither the writing nor the story enchanted me enough to smooth over the rough bits.
Rob: I liked his writing–nothing fancy, but nothing irritating. A lot of it made me laugh, and I liked his accuracy. I love that bit when Todd says ‘hey, we’ll just do some covers, like The Police’, and ‘Cal’ looks at him like he’s lost his mind, with damn good reason. It was little things like that which had me enjoying the book. I also liked his view of New Orleans pre-Katrina. And, even though they were mostly selfish fucks, I liked the characters. I wouldn’t want to know them, but I liked them.