Inferno by Eileen Myles
I'm not a huge fan of experimental literature in terms of writing style. In topics or subjects I love it, but pushing boundaries of style and definition sometimes really bugs the shit out of me. I'll just say that up front.
Inferno is a supposed work of fiction, but reads as an autobiography and comes across as one as well. It's the supposed story of a person's life and early writing career. I had to read it for class and hated it. Because it's about a lesbian I expected to like it, and I tried, I really did. I liked the opening line, something my teacher's ass being gorgeous, and there are a few places where the writing drew me in. But mostly I hated it.
It's been a while since I've read it, but let's pick out some goodies. For one thing, you're never quite sure how old she is as the subject. It almost seems that, with lots of run-on sentences, to be coming through the voice of an adolescent (or Rick Moranis' character in Ghostbusters). She also switches between past and present tense fairly frequently, not just by chapter but sometimes within paragraphs.
There are several places where, let's just guess, as an artist she feels she has to tell the truth, as when one of her friends says, "Eileen, you're much better than she is" (I can't remember, but that may be in relation to Marge Piercy). Why, why, if you're not an egomaniac, is that even necessary in your book? Or this gem: "I was nervous about the scene [she was writing]. I mean, I'm in my novel." Uh, yeah, because someone obviously held a gun to your head for that, right?
The experimental style of the novel is also annoying because dialogue is not clearly noted and half the time I couldn't tell what was dialogue and what was not, or who was speaking.
The book is divided into three parts, but I think all of them are pretty good as Inferno, in terms of being hellish. The second part contains a story called "Drops," and within 38 pages there are at least 78 instances of words being italicized, most of them for no apparent good reason. This story also is a boring, boring boring account of her time in poetry readings, writing about her work, the work of other poets' and fuck that, but if I wanted to read about real poets' work I wouldn't pick up a novel to do it. Of course, because I had to read it for class I had read it, but the book would not have held up for me past page 5 or something.
There's also one instance where Myles is sitting out with her dog, who uncovers a hedgehog and kills the little creature. She just sits by and listens. That pisses me off.
So I know this isn't a great review, a lot of the book has left my consciousness by now, but shit it SUCKS. A royal disappointment.
Inferno is a supposed work of fiction, but reads as an autobiography and comes across as one as well. It's the supposed story of a person's life and early writing career. I had to read it for class and hated it. Because it's about a lesbian I expected to like it, and I tried, I really did. I liked the opening line, something my teacher's ass being gorgeous, and there are a few places where the writing drew me in. But mostly I hated it.
It's been a while since I've read it, but let's pick out some goodies. For one thing, you're never quite sure how old she is as the subject. It almost seems that, with lots of run-on sentences, to be coming through the voice of an adolescent (or Rick Moranis' character in Ghostbusters). She also switches between past and present tense fairly frequently, not just by chapter but sometimes within paragraphs.
There are several places where, let's just guess, as an artist she feels she has to tell the truth, as when one of her friends says, "Eileen, you're much better than she is" (I can't remember, but that may be in relation to Marge Piercy). Why, why, if you're not an egomaniac, is that even necessary in your book? Or this gem: "I was nervous about the scene [she was writing]. I mean, I'm in my novel." Uh, yeah, because someone obviously held a gun to your head for that, right?
The experimental style of the novel is also annoying because dialogue is not clearly noted and half the time I couldn't tell what was dialogue and what was not, or who was speaking.
The book is divided into three parts, but I think all of them are pretty good as Inferno, in terms of being hellish. The second part contains a story called "Drops," and within 38 pages there are at least 78 instances of words being italicized, most of them for no apparent good reason. This story also is a boring, boring boring account of her time in poetry readings, writing about her work, the work of other poets' and fuck that, but if I wanted to read about real poets' work I wouldn't pick up a novel to do it. Of course, because I had to read it for class I had read it, but the book would not have held up for me past page 5 or something.
There's also one instance where Myles is sitting out with her dog, who uncovers a hedgehog and kills the little creature. She just sits by and listens. That pisses me off.
So I know this isn't a great review, a lot of the book has left my consciousness by now, but shit it SUCKS. A royal disappointment.