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And there was much rejoicing.
I got a review that was so thoughtful and awesome, I thought I'd post it here for you all to see. It comes from Amazon UK, from a guy who is obviously some kind of genius when it comes to recognizing talent. ;-]
Michigan, USA, The Present: Michael "Mikey" Goretti is the living embodiment of the modern American nightmare. Cruising the highways and byways of Michigan state in his old, beaten up car, his hunting grounds are the streets, strip malls, rest stops and car parks of an economically depressed contemporary urban landscape and the signs of his passing are a sad, violated, broken litter of young human detritus. This is Mikey's story and the tapestry of his life is woven both through his own words and through the recollections of those who thought they knew him...
"Kiss Me Like You Love Me" is Wednesday Lee Friday's third novel and, not to put too fine a point on it, it is a tour-de-force.
In creating the fictional oral testament of a contemporary multiple murderer, Friday shines a brilliant light into the darker realms of the human soul and the harsher aspects of modern existence. Mikey Goretti 'is' undoubtedly a monster, but ultimately he is as much a victim of a series of unremittingly bleak circumstances as the doomed souls who are unfortunate enough to cross his path; you've seen stories like Mikey's play ad infinitum on the news: he was the little kid with the brutal parents; the boy who got bullied at school because he didn't fit in no matter how hard he tried; the teenager who just couldn't get a girlfriend and ultimately the man who was written off as a loser because he just couldn't pull it together as an adult. None of this excuses his actions but it does go some way to explaining them. Mikey is a creature of both myth and reality and in his creator's hands, this murderous child-man's stream-of-consciousness soliloquies cast him as nothing less than the homicidal heir apparent to the collective unconscious of contemporary rage, hurt and alienation vocalised by the likes of J.D. Salinger's 'Holden Caulfield', Jim Carver's 'Lou Ford', Bret Easton Ellis' 'Patrick Bateman' and Chuck Palahniuk's anonymous "Fight Club" narrator.
Friday's evocation of Mikey's fractured mental state is frighteningly authentic. I've studied psychology at degree level and have read more than a few books and case studies of sociopaths, psychopaths and murderers and this really is one of the most terrifyingly convincing portrayals of a homicidally divergent mind that I've encountered: the narcissism; the paranoia; the depression; the obsession; the misogyny; the infantile sense of entitlement; the pathological, habitual deception; the disparity between perceived and objective reality; the inability to nurture a sense of empathy toward others outside of one's immediate emotional and physical needs; the festering hatred and resentment of authority figures - all the hallmarks of a clinical sociopath are perfectly rendered in the course of the narrative which exquisitely charts the seemingly random course of a mind navigating it's murderous way through a bleak existence. The switch from past to present tense that Mikey makes when reliving the moments of his homicidal "red" rages is a brilliant stylistic touch which has a very firm basis in reality - as anyone who has ever read actual transcripts of conversations with sociopaths can tell you. Shades of Henry Lee Lucas, Arthur Leigh Allen (the chief suspect in the "Zodiac" murders), David Berkowitz, John Hinkley, Dennis Nilsen, Otis Toole, Ed Gein and Richard Kuklinski really do haunt the pages of this book.
But there is more to Friday's novel than violence and grand guignol. It is also a rumination on contemporary culture (Mikey gets his jollies by going to see movies starring Teal and Tammy Barnaby - two scantily clad teen-icons who bear more than a passing resemblance to the Olsen twins), the immigrant experience (we witness the heartbreaking travails suffered by Mikey's ex-wife and step children, Damayanti, Chandra and Durga), friendship and growing up (our guide to the formative years of a young Mikey is his anonymous best friend) and bad parenting (the venomous invective of Mikey's devoutly religious mother provides more than a little insight into how an abused child can become a brutal man).
"Kiss Me Like You Love Me" is an ambitious book and a compulsively readable one (I burned through all two hundred and forty so pages in five hours); and if there's been a more convincing fictional evocation of a homicidally divergent mind published, then I've yet to read it.
Wednesday Lee Friday has a vital, vibrant and visceral talent and I can't wait to see where she goes next.
And I'd just like to point out that this is the SECOND book of mine to evoke Salinger in the reviews. I don't mind telling you that I take that as an enormous compliment. This is also serving as a reminder that I have to quit letting myself get sidetracked and draft this zombie novel already.
Michigan, USA, The Present: Michael "Mikey" Goretti is the living embodiment of the modern American nightmare. Cruising the highways and byways of Michigan state in his old, beaten up car, his hunting grounds are the streets, strip malls, rest stops and car parks of an economically depressed contemporary urban landscape and the signs of his passing are a sad, violated, broken litter of young human detritus. This is Mikey's story and the tapestry of his life is woven both through his own words and through the recollections of those who thought they knew him...
"Kiss Me Like You Love Me" is Wednesday Lee Friday's third novel and, not to put too fine a point on it, it is a tour-de-force.
In creating the fictional oral testament of a contemporary multiple murderer, Friday shines a brilliant light into the darker realms of the human soul and the harsher aspects of modern existence. Mikey Goretti 'is' undoubtedly a monster, but ultimately he is as much a victim of a series of unremittingly bleak circumstances as the doomed souls who are unfortunate enough to cross his path; you've seen stories like Mikey's play ad infinitum on the news: he was the little kid with the brutal parents; the boy who got bullied at school because he didn't fit in no matter how hard he tried; the teenager who just couldn't get a girlfriend and ultimately the man who was written off as a loser because he just couldn't pull it together as an adult. None of this excuses his actions but it does go some way to explaining them. Mikey is a creature of both myth and reality and in his creator's hands, this murderous child-man's stream-of-consciousness soliloquies cast him as nothing less than the homicidal heir apparent to the collective unconscious of contemporary rage, hurt and alienation vocalised by the likes of J.D. Salinger's 'Holden Caulfield', Jim Carver's 'Lou Ford', Bret Easton Ellis' 'Patrick Bateman' and Chuck Palahniuk's anonymous "Fight Club" narrator.
Friday's evocation of Mikey's fractured mental state is frighteningly authentic. I've studied psychology at degree level and have read more than a few books and case studies of sociopaths, psychopaths and murderers and this really is one of the most terrifyingly convincing portrayals of a homicidally divergent mind that I've encountered: the narcissism; the paranoia; the depression; the obsession; the misogyny; the infantile sense of entitlement; the pathological, habitual deception; the disparity between perceived and objective reality; the inability to nurture a sense of empathy toward others outside of one's immediate emotional and physical needs; the festering hatred and resentment of authority figures - all the hallmarks of a clinical sociopath are perfectly rendered in the course of the narrative which exquisitely charts the seemingly random course of a mind navigating it's murderous way through a bleak existence. The switch from past to present tense that Mikey makes when reliving the moments of his homicidal "red" rages is a brilliant stylistic touch which has a very firm basis in reality - as anyone who has ever read actual transcripts of conversations with sociopaths can tell you. Shades of Henry Lee Lucas, Arthur Leigh Allen (the chief suspect in the "Zodiac" murders), David Berkowitz, John Hinkley, Dennis Nilsen, Otis Toole, Ed Gein and Richard Kuklinski really do haunt the pages of this book.
But there is more to Friday's novel than violence and grand guignol. It is also a rumination on contemporary culture (Mikey gets his jollies by going to see movies starring Teal and Tammy Barnaby - two scantily clad teen-icons who bear more than a passing resemblance to the Olsen twins), the immigrant experience (we witness the heartbreaking travails suffered by Mikey's ex-wife and step children, Damayanti, Chandra and Durga), friendship and growing up (our guide to the formative years of a young Mikey is his anonymous best friend) and bad parenting (the venomous invective of Mikey's devoutly religious mother provides more than a little insight into how an abused child can become a brutal man).
"Kiss Me Like You Love Me" is an ambitious book and a compulsively readable one (I burned through all two hundred and forty so pages in five hours); and if there's been a more convincing fictional evocation of a homicidally divergent mind published, then I've yet to read it.
Wednesday Lee Friday has a vital, vibrant and visceral talent and I can't wait to see where she goes next.
And I'd just like to point out that this is the SECOND book of mine to evoke Salinger in the reviews. I don't mind telling you that I take that as an enormous compliment. This is also serving as a reminder that I have to quit letting myself get sidetracked and draft this zombie novel already.
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Ask my other half. He would know more.
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I think you need to put this in your folder and read it whenever you are feeling discouraged. It's full of wonderful (and true) compliments.
And yes, go write zombies. I await them (your writing of them, anyway) eagerly.
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Thanks!
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(Anonymous) 2010-08-17 12:06 pm (UTC)(link)no subject