‘The best debut novel I’ve ever read’
Nice blurb – I thought to myself as I turned the novel over in my hand.
Okay the guy giving the glowing five star review was a poet, a poet I wasn’t particularly warm too.
He loves his words. Emphasis on being on ‘his words’ and by all accounts he’s made a good living at it. Now he was saying he loved this new author’s words as well. So were her’s going to be like his?
Unfortunately they were.
Granted the language was beautiful and the metaphors stunning, but you do reach a saturation point and I met that point early on in the novel in question. Too much of a good thing and the story was suffering as a result.
A brilliant story can be told in relatively simple language, just ask Paul Coelho. Indulgence for indulgence sake doesn’t cut it long term.
The same with painting.
As one renowned critic worded it when referring to Edward Hopper’s paintings –
‘If Hopper was a better painter he won’t be the brilliant artist he in-doutably is’
Not really. Just look at Hopper’s work populated with the clunky limb figures? The paintings are terrible and brilliant at the same time. How could that be?
Simply put, there’s no fooling the human soul. We see and know more than we are fully conscious aware of.
Like a body craving good food, we like good art produced from somewhere deep and barely accessible.
Do these make the grade. I merely aspire. Its a good start.