Tennyson

by Lesley M. M. Blume

I promised myself I wasn't going to post about a March 2008 (!) book this early in the game. But I just had to share my thoughts on this one, a novel by the author of The Rising Star of Rusty Nail. I've been looking forward to reading this ever since Miss Blume mentioned it in the interview I did with her last year.

Tennyson is a remarkable book. Remarkable in the sense that I don't think I've read any other book like it. The best way I can describe it is by giving you three keywords: Gothic + Southern + Writing. It's sort of a bizarre little book. The writing is very stark and vivid and dark; the characters odd but lovable. Parts of it made me laugh, parts made my heart ache. Sometimes Aigredoux and its occupants seemed ridiculous and absurd, sometimes they were frightening. Oh, how do I say this. It's not the sort of book you can describe. It's like a distant memory that you want to lose yourself in, but at the same time you're afraid that if the characters are hurt in any way, you will be, too. My reaction when finished wasn't a loud, bubbly, "I loved it!!" - more of a quiet, solemn, "I liked that. Yes, I did. Very much."