are awkward and flat, and seem phony even within the constantly-shifting, uncertain reality of the narrative. Her invocations of Louise Brooks, Harry Houdini, et al.
I felt that Longfellow was not up to the task. Some writers are masterful at this for instance: The Master, Poe: A Life Cut Short, Imperial Woman. (My only exception to this, so far, is if one considers Jean Rhys’s Wide Sargasso Sea fan fiction which, in a way, it is.)Īlso, it takes considerable skill and sophistication to invoke the spirits of real people from the past and breathe life into them. In this case, I began to feel as if I were reading fan fiction - and I loathe fan fiction and the sort of books which inspire it. I believe that it is a mistake to borrow so heavily from writers and artists whose talent is so formidable, as it can only evoke a comparison to the writer who does so. Unfortunately, I think that the author over-played her hand in regard to the allusions to (and illusions of) characters, scenes, and dialogue from classic works of literature and film by Alfred Hitchcock, Shirley Jackson, Stephen King, H.P. Come to think of it, a carnival ride through a tunnel of horror is a rather apt metaphor for this book - darkness speed-and-stillness-and-speed things lurking around corners so that we brush up against them as we pass. I expected to enjoy the ride much more than I did. Reality is a slippery concept in this book.Īll of this presents, initially, an intriguing set-up. Her experiences in River House are either a result of encroaching madness, or they are really happening. Also, we learn pretty quickly, she herself has the potential to be dangerous: she is on the run, hiding from the public, drinking heavily, experiencing time-loss and black-outs, rapidly losing her sense of reality, and has nothing left to lose (or, so she believes). We enter the narrator’s life at a crisis point, as she is immersed in a tragedy and is not out of danger. The book is told in first person, and we are never allowed out of the narrator’s head, which can become tedious and claustrophobic at times. The main story is about a novelist and screenwriter whose name we never learn, who returns to the town of her childhood and takes up residence in the once-grand-now-dilapidated River House, to live out what we are told from the start will be her final days. I felt outside the story, consistently, except when the narrator spoke of her family and her life prior to her tenancy at River House. I could see every nail as the author hammered it into the board, and much of it felt contrived and overworked. Also, unlike many of the works which the narrator discusses, and which the author evokes within the book, it did not scare me. This was a fun piece of fiction + meta fiction, and stories-within-stories, but overall, it did not thrill me. Book Review: Houdini Heart, by Ki Longfellow td Whittle Posted on October 17, 2013
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