As you might have noticed from previous reviews, I’m a great fan of Japanese literature. I’m also a great fan of cats. Combine the two, and this review of The Travelling Cat Chronicles, by Hiro Arikawa, was the result.
Indeed, I’m writing this review mere minutes after I finished the book, as the impact is still very fresh in my mind. You should also know that I finished reading the book in a few hours – it’s one of those books that simply flows effortlessly.
So, what is The Travelling Cat Chronicles about? Much more than what the premise lets you think.
This review of The Perfect Gray is obviously not mine – though it would’ve been an interesting exercise to try to review my own novel. Still, this particular review of The Perfect Gray is offered by my friend and fellow academic, author, and creative-writing advisor, Igor da Silva Livramento. Check out his papers on Academia.edu, his music on Bandcamp, and his personal musings on his blog – in Portuguese, Spanish/Castilian, and English. You can also find him on LinkedIn.
Important Note: At the beginning of the process, when I asked Igor if he’d like to review The Perfect Gray, I set down two imperative requirements: i) he would have complete editorial freedom; ii) similarly, he would have full freedom to critique The Perfect Gray as he objectively saw it. What follows from this point on, is his personal, independent review of The Perfect Gray as he saw it. I have only offered some very minor formatting recommendations, for consistency within the blog. I have also suggested the added links to other blog posts.
The Perfect Gray Novel
Unassuming title, aye? To be fair, it is accurate by my book (pun intended).
I must admit: I didn’t expect it to be such a good novel. I simply had to drop everything I was reading to beat The Perfect Gray as quickly as possible. It had been over a year since I’d read something so intense, exciting, memorable – simply unforgettable.
In Absurdia, by Glenn Whalan, is a novel; sort of. In Absurdia, by Glenn Whalan, is an experimental-fiction novel; sort of. And this is a review of In Absurdia, by Glenn Whalan; (wait for it) sort of.
Quite honestly, this must be among the most unorthodox reviews I’ve ever had to write, not because I feel particularly ambivalent about the book I decided to review, but because I feel speechless – as in, literally speechless; I have so few things to talk about.
This, as we will see, contains hints both for the book and against it. However, even that is not as clear-cut as I’d like to make it sound. Concept such as “book”, “for”, or “against” are not something that seems to be in accord with what In Absurdia is all about.
