THE FURIOUS WALNUTS
First coinage of ‘Devolved Fiction’ here, so as, in hindsight, to attempt to describe a fiction genre that is devolved to the reader where, inasmuch as the metafiction is so utterly extreme, it becomes, somewhat paradoxically perhaps, unmetafictional.
This relates to my recent coinages of Pronoun Horror and Future Perfect Fiction about The Lighthouse by Alison Moore and First Novel by Nicholas Royle respectively. (Links are to my reviews).
More boulders found on this morning’s ‘walnut walk’ (now so-called!) near where I live:
The second of my post-real-time reviews (following the recent completion of all my previous real-time reviews ).
THE LIGHTHOUSE – a novel by Alison Moore (2012)
Salt Publishing – Cromer
The Guardian video — Why The Lighthouse should win the 2012 Booker Prize – is a brilliant summation of this (I expect) memorable novel … and so why add my own review? Well, it’s a story about a perfume container, various smells, a road movie (for one person, not two) except it’s a hike not a car journey (other than the sporadic flat tyres) and involves other points of view in Germany, other points of time. A laid-back, disarming panoply of relationships that uses language sparely to tell of itself, with richly felt undercurrents as we travel from deceptively, craftily, emotionally low-key foray to foray … with a disarming brutality, too, that comes home to roost in a shuffle-toed, almost dead-pan narrative that includes baths, childhoods, cinematic sarabandes — and Proustian perfumes as leitmotifs towards a haunting gestalt.
Well, why my own review, I ask? I was originally trying to relate it to my own identification of something I called ‘Pronoun Horror’ in this very author’s short story in ‘The Screaming Book of Horror’ that I very recently reviewed here. I, me, you, she, he, us, them: as wafting parfumeries, like a morse code of Proustian selves from phare to phare, ferry to ferry…