Treacherous Parts: You Too Can Have a Body Like Mine

You Too Can Have a Body Like MineYou Too Can Have a Body Like Mine by Alexandra Kleeman

Published: August 25th 2015
Publisher: HarperCollins Publishers
Genre(s): Literary Fiction, Surrealism
Format: Audiobook
Length: 9 hrs and 17 mins

You Too Can Have a Body Like Mine is a catalog of the mundane made nightmarish and surreal. Eating an orange is a visceral act of destruction and consumption. Applying makeup is an absolute negation of the self.

Sex is dissociative and alien, a study of individual body parts joining and separating in feverish dispassion. Commercials are bizarre tragedies populated with gruesome cartoon imagery.

Your favorite game show ruins lives and breaks up marriages. The neighbors dressed themselves in bed sheets with holes for their eyes and checked out of society to join a new cult. Your roommate wants to become you so thoroughly that you might no longer exist.

You Too Can Have a Body Like Mine is a bit difficult to summarize in any kind of concise fashion, but the back copy certainly tries. The main thing you need to know before reading it is that it isn’t particularly plot-driven and the characters aren’t much more than archetypes.

The first three-fourths are an episodic, anxious meditation on body image, consumerism and food issues. The last quarter changes gears a bit when the main character decides she has found a solution to her general malaise, and the book loses a bit of its odd, surrealist charm. That last quarter also suffers from a sudden influx of jargon, but the end still mostly sticks the landing.

My favorite parts were Kleeman’s descriptions of terrifying commercials for a chemical-filled brand of snack cakes. Imagine an existentialist Wile E Coyote who doesn’t just fall but breaks at a spiritual level thanks to the machinations of sentient dessert, and you’ve got the general idea.

I also appreciated the author’s horrifying descriptions of food and eating even as they made me cringe. Eating is basically never pleasurable in this book; instead, it’s an act of violence against both food and eater.

I’m honestly not entirely sure why I enjoyed this book as much as I did. I’m not usually patient enough to read weird, arty books, and it was definitely a bit pretentious and overwritten. It’s possible that listening to the audiobook was a big part of why I liked it; in fact, I’m pretty sure I would have gotten bogged down trying to read it in print.

Accordingly, I’d rate this one as a qualified recommendation. If a rambling, slim story about body image and food issues sounds like it might be worth your time, you’ll probably get a few laughs and/or shudders out of Kleeman’s début.

LIKED IT
LIKED IT

Amazon | Audible | Book Soup | Barnes and Noble | Indiebound

Elliot Allagash by Simon Rich

Published: May 25, 2010
Publisher: Random House
Genre(s): Literary Fiction, Humor
Format: Hardcover
Length: 240 pages

I read Elliot Allagash in one three-hour sitting. It was mildly entertaining, and I remember laughing once or twice, but ultimately it’s a remarkably slight novel that felt like a padded novella with pretensions of bigger things. On the other hand, its slightness does work in its favor, making it a quick, easy read, and I finished it before it could lose my interest or outstay its welcome.

The book charts the transformation of one Seymour Herson from chubby high school outcast to aloof popular kid cheating his way through life. His ascendancy comes thanks to a sociopathic billionaire teenager named Elliot Allagash, who appoints himself Seymour’s personal svengali and immediately begins stage-managing his life down to the finest detail.

The characters are fairly one-dimensional. Elliot is always scheming, Seymour is always nervous, and they’re surrounded by cardboard cut-out archetypes. The overall trajectory of their story isn’t particularly surprising, but the author does get a few points for absurd details thrown in along the way. Elliot’s convoluted revenges against his “enemies” do help keep things interesting now and then.

To be honest, I really only started reading it because it was due back to the library in a few days, and I finished it because it didn’t take that much effort once I started. Overall, it was an inoffensive way to spend a few hours, but nothing I’d go out of my way to recommend.

DISLIKED IT
DISLIKED IT

Amazon | Indiebound | Indiebound

Reheated Cabbage by Irvine Welsh

Published: September 14, 2009
Publisher: W. W. Norton & Company
Genre(s): Literary Fiction, Short Stories
Format: Paperback
Pages: 288

This is the second book I’ve read by Irvine Welsh. The first, Ecstasy, disturbed me to no end back in the day even though I’ve always been a huge fan of the movie version of Trainspotting. Even still, I was willing to give his fiction another chance.

None of the stories in this collection are nearly as disturbing, but as with any collection of disparate works, some were better than others. Several of them were fairly modern (read: elliptical) which I don’t always like, but I did like the book enough to keep reading them.

I think my favorite of the stories is the last one, “I Am Miami”, which does a good job of sharply drawing a flawed but sympathetic character, and is also the rare example of redemptive themes in the collection. I actually grew to care about the bitter old school teacher at the heart of that story, and worried for his future. My second most favorite was “The State of the Party”, which had several classic moments that juxtaposed Scottish vernacular with crisp, proper narration in a way that made me laugh out loud.

I do think that this book is best if you are at least familiar with the world of Trainspotting, simply because two of the stories are directly related to that book in some fashion. It also helps to be able to decipher the written form of Scottish dialect or you will be thoroughly lost through much of the collection.

REALLY LIKED IT
REALLY LIKED IT

Full disclosure: I received a review copy of this book as part of the LibraryThing Early Reviewers program.

Amazon | Book Soup | Indiebound