Sharks and Serial Killers
Review: His Selachian Majesty Requests
It took me a while to warm to this book. There is perhaps a bit too much explicitly Christian imagery in it…countered by things I am absolutely there for, like healthy polyamory.
I didn’t really warm to it until I understood that this is, at its heart, a rock and roll novel…but not the normal kind. The music novel is about the triumph of music…the enemy has to be defeated by the power of rock and roll (or jazz, or blues, the type of music doesn’t matter).
In fact, this book is subtitled “Sharks, Drugs and Rock & Roll!” There is sex in it, although it’s not explicit. It’s also a period piece, set as the seventies turn into the eighties. Camlet “Chugger” See is a minor rock star…and also heir to the throne of the small, entirely fictional, Asian island kingdom of Singii. Who worship sharks. Sort of.
There is a fair bit in this novel about how we misunderstand sharks; Clough presents them as intelligent, communicative animals that may have a lot to say if we can work out how to listen.
But that’s only one strand. The other strand is the drugs strand. Camlet is an addict…at the start of the book he’s drying out from alcohol and later he has a nasty bout with cocaine. Clough understands that addiction is addiction, and that addicts can, indeed, move from one substance to another.
Ultimately, this book is about the burned out star…and that’s all I can say without spoilers. But it’s also groovy. And has plenty of sharks. I like sharks and I like music novels so, in the end, it won me over.
Review: Sour Cherry by Natalia Theodoridou
Of things I don’t particularly need, Bluebeard retellings are high on the list. Theodoridou certainly executes his text well. (Yes, that is the correct pronoun). He explores the idea of folk narrative as story as power.
But I found the ending, such as it was, unsatisfying and the format…almost achieves what Theodoridou intends. A frustrating almost that reminds the reader this is, in the end, a debut novel.
The title, too, fails to resonate with me. The prose is beautiful and if you like this kind of folk tale retelling, you will certainly get something from this. There’s also an ongoing thread of “why don’t you just leave.”
Because yes, this is a book about abuse, and specifically about gendered abuse between men and women, although it also touches on the particularly intimate abuse between fathers and sons. It’s about why women don’t leave (and no, men don’t leave either).
I wouldn’t call this a fun or enjoyable book, but it is definitely an interesting one. Personally, I hope to see Theodoridou mature as a writer and develop the skills to achieve the ambitious things he attempts in this book.
But if you like dark, borderline horrific folk tale retellings, this is still worth picking up.