Post by sturgeon on Jan 7, 2021 0:42:48 GMT
This is fantastic.
The main character, unnamed except teasingly as McMansion, visits his father - a disgraced judge with an over-privileged narcissist's grudge against black people. Daddy lives (in a fortress of disdainful wealth) in a "black neighbourhood", in a cynical ploy to bolster his political ambitions. And is probably sleeping with his gardener.
But McMansion is not the same person as his father. He makes friend with the locals, even as they are haunted by angels and demons from the town's turbulent past. It will take dangerous magic to unfetter themselves from the ghosts, guilt and grudges. Are the spirits really there at all, or are the characters haunted by the psychic scars of centuries of exploitation?
To be honest, I don't know what this cap is about. It's too well written to be a mere ghost story. It's too offbeat to be po-faced literature. It starts being about one thing and ends up being about something else. But I would happily study it and pick it apart and discover hidden layers of meaning until it made sense to me.
This is sophisticated, challenging, fascinating writing. Pushcart-ready. A hard yes from me.
In case this gets past the Bullmeister and Mr Inkblot, I did spot some typos:
Dad, in his bowtie, peeked over the upstairs railing
over to the Hawaiian Islands before we ever called them Hawaii
sidelight rather than sidelite x2
“Hold up,” I said. “You’re Mr. Gaddis’s daughter?”
I sweated bullets while Meeka floated
She was spectacular on the court.
Furniture so old and ratchet [don't think that's the right word]
the dotted yin inside the yang
The main character, unnamed except teasingly as McMansion, visits his father - a disgraced judge with an over-privileged narcissist's grudge against black people. Daddy lives (in a fortress of disdainful wealth) in a "black neighbourhood", in a cynical ploy to bolster his political ambitions. And is probably sleeping with his gardener.
But McMansion is not the same person as his father. He makes friend with the locals, even as they are haunted by angels and demons from the town's turbulent past. It will take dangerous magic to unfetter themselves from the ghosts, guilt and grudges. Are the spirits really there at all, or are the characters haunted by the psychic scars of centuries of exploitation?
To be honest, I don't know what this cap is about. It's too well written to be a mere ghost story. It's too offbeat to be po-faced literature. It starts being about one thing and ends up being about something else. But I would happily study it and pick it apart and discover hidden layers of meaning until it made sense to me.
This is sophisticated, challenging, fascinating writing. Pushcart-ready. A hard yes from me.
In case this gets past the Bullmeister and Mr Inkblot, I did spot some typos:
Dad, in his bowtie, peeked over the upstairs railing
over to the Hawaiian Islands before we ever called them Hawaii
sidelight rather than sidelite x2
“Hold up,” I said. “You’re Mr. Gaddis’s daughter?”
I sweated bullets while Meeka floated
She was spectacular on the court.
Furniture so old and ratchet [don't think that's the right word]
the dotted yin inside the yang
