A few
months ago, my fellow blogger friends Ragini, Isha and I realized that we share
more than a love of fashion, body confidence and quirky styling: a passion for literature. Those
of you who are recurring readers of mine have probably stumbled upon more than
one post referring to my binge reading or qualms with film adaptations of
certain beloved books! We began chatting via social media about starting up a
book club, and were slowly joined by Cynthia and Charlotte in the banter.
Thanks to Isha’s exceptional organization skills, a Facebook page was created
and a group e-mail session set up. We all came to the decision that our reviews
and commentary on our chosen monthly book would be best posted onto our
individual blogs, but we will be linking to each other’s pages so that
hopefully readers will check out what we all have to say. These are beautiful,
intelligent women whose writing and input I cherish, and I am so pleased to be
part of this Nerdsville Book Club with them.
Our May
book, chosen by Charlotte
Eeeny Meeny is high-end British drama producer M.J. Arlidge’s
debut novel, and it shows – at times, in refreshing bursts of energy and life,
but at others, in painful, borderline offensive comments that have the
potential to be funny (ish), but come off instead as offensive due to poor
editing and seemingly rushed writing:
“Could a woman
have dragged Sam by herself – all twelve stone of him – or would she have
needed an accomplice?” (43) – Just one quick example.
“She kind
of looked like a social worker, except she wasn't depressed and her clothes
were all right” (107) – Maybe one more.
As a rookie
novelist, Arlidge’s thriller is filled with possibilities – moments during
which you think, “This is it. Things are going to get good now,” but said
instances are quickly trumped by plot developments that seem crudely inserted
in at the last minute, and hyperbolic events with little purpose other than
shock factor.
Arlidge’s
story itself is one that on paper should greatly appeal to me. His novel, which
follows a pattern of abductions, imprisonments, starvation and psychological
and physical torture, puts the characters through some of the nastiest situations
imaginable. Their humanity is tested. Their morality challenged. In order to
escape, prisoners must kill or be killed. But like any good psychopathic
villain, their kidnapper has planned their captivities carefully, of course. The
pairs are not strangers. They are couples, mother and child, friends, business
partners, colleagues supposedly fighting for the same cause. When your survival
depends on taking the life of someone you know well – of someone you love more
than life itself in some cases – what do you do? Who do you sacrifice? Do you
choose to die?
The reason
writers like Hubert Selby Junior (Requiem for a Dream) and Tracy Letts (August: Osage County) appeal to me is because they
have the beautiful ability to put their characters through raw, unthinkably gruesome
struggles, and analyze the strengths and weaknesses of homo sapiens’ minds and
hearts along the way. They highlight our fragility, our instinctual self
preservation, our loyalty (or lack thereof) toward others. The reality is that most of us are only human, and grim tales of suffering often (not always) fascinate us. For me, there needs to be more to a tale than blood for the sake of blood, though. There must be
emotion. There must be profoundness tucked within the words on the page. As we
watch Detective Inspector Helen Grace discover one set of murders after
another, we fear for her stability. Her background, predominantly unclear to
us, is one we at least know has come with its share of toils. Her mental release of
choice, coated in sadomasochistic tendencies, leaves much to be desired for her
psychological safety, and we do remain on edge, waiting to discover her fate.
But it is
the prisoners who keep us gripped time after time. Had we seen fewer victims up
close, the story would have quickly become obsolete and drifted toward the land boring books set aside to collect dust.
It is that we always know there will be more – and suspect that even our main
characters are at danger – that keeps us reading. And though the profoundness I
crave in my literature – that thing that makes you reflect and remember a book
days, weeks and years to come – is
somewhat absent, I could not help become immersed in the victims’ outcomes. Who
would kill who? Who would take their own life? Would any pair choose to die
together?
Arlidge succeeds in that he makes readers question why they
personally are attracted to such tales, and in keeping us sufficiently
entertained so that we read the book to its end, where we then find out it will have an unnecessary sequel to it. But he does not succeed in convincing
us that he is a good writer. Often, he drifts into cliché and mainstream
moralistic phrasing. His career in television transpires through passages and
full graphs that come off as blatant stage direction rather than literature. But
alas, Arlidge entertained. It is that his goal seemed purely to do so, and
not to impact and challenge and relay deep thought, that bothered me.
Eeny Meeny has potential. That we know from early on that
the villain is a woman is an interesting plot line in and of itself. Stories
along similar genres tend to feature men as the evil geniuses behind the series
of unfortunate events we are presented with. That it tests people to its limits
in physical, psychological and emotional capacities is gripping. But that the
author seemed to rush the story – seeming not to give much thought to his words
or how far and deep and subsequently more interesting he could make them – left
me somewhat vacant and unsatisfied.
While not my favorite, and certainly not a future repeat read, I do think this book has potential for those interested in crime fiction or horror, especially on the screen. Oftentimes Eeny Meeny felt like a TV script, and while that just didn't work for me in this case, it definitely might for someone else. It's important, I find, in literature and in life, to drift outside your comfort zone and delve into new things. I don't have much experience with crime/horror fiction or film, so this read was a rewarding experience overall.
While not my favorite, and certainly not a future repeat read, I do think this book has potential for those interested in crime fiction or horror, especially on the screen. Oftentimes Eeny Meeny felt like a TV script, and while that just didn't work for me in this case, it definitely might for someone else. It's important, I find, in literature and in life, to drift outside your comfort zone and delve into new things. I don't have much experience with crime/horror fiction or film, so this read was a rewarding experience overall.
For more, check out these lovely ladies' posts:
Ragini on A Curious Fancy
