Rubik

RUBIK doesn't’ read like a novel, but like a collection of “experimental” short stories--or, more accurately, like a collection of vignettes prepared for creative writing class assignments. The stories make little sense to me, and leave me feeling sad and mildly depressed, so I didn't enjoy them.I’m baffled by the Amazon classification of author Elizabeth Tan’s book as “Humor: Satire”. What's funny about the torment of an aging piano teacher that is triggered by a cellphone call that plays the opening notes of a piano piece the teacher memorized long ago? How is the sudden death of a young woman, who is now remembered only by traces left on Internet message boards, either humorous or satirical?The Amazon classification of the book as “Fantasy: Magical Realism” seems more reasonable. Since I’ve never heard of a “Magical Realism” genre, and have no idea what it is supposed to be, it may explain why I don't understand the stories.The author does seem to have writing talent, though I don't care for her style. It’s choppy and frequently disregards the usual rules of grammar. It has a certain rhythm and flow that you get used to, as you read, but that doesn't make the prose “lyrical” or “beautiful”.Here's a brief example, a paragraph describing a doomed character leaving a gas station mini-mart: “Elena, on the diagonal, outside and away from the white glow of diesel and LPG, the faint croon of the radio playing infinitely for refueling motorists.” Or another example, a sentence that opens a chapter: “Kish, unarticulated today, without bar lines, spine creaking like a hymn book; soft, old Kish, having dreamed last night of being an engulfed cathedral, ascending to consciousness in perfect fourths.”Perhaps there is a story to be found among the disconnected chapters. However, although I like fantasy and science fiction generally, I’m too literal-minded to want to spend time trying to figure out a “novel” like this one.

The authors writing style is really hard to follow. She writes in short choppy thoughts and disconnected sentences that don’t, in my opinion, contribute anything to the storyline.Excerpt: “Kish, unarticulated today, without bar lines, spine creaking like a hymn book;soft, old Kish, having dreamed last night of being an engulfed cathedral, ascending to consciousness in perfect fourths. Arched by a yawn.”Now I suppose some would read that and find it lyrical though provoking prose but I read it as disjointed fragments of thoughts and found the style a bit frustrating to read. There may be a really good story here but I couldn’t seem dig deep enough under all the layers of disjointed thoughts to find it.

This is a very strange book, and one of the strangest things about it is that despite the fact that I still don't see the point in the story as a whole (if there even is one? I'm still confused on that point), I did actually enjoy reading it. I liked the author's writing style, and I'll admit that I'm a sucker for pop culture references like the ones this novel delivers in droves (especially considering it's fairly short length). Unfortunately, while it was interesting to see how the individual story-chapters were linked to each other, nothing ever really seemed to come of it...or at least nothing *sensical*, anyway. If you're okay with reading something just for the overall feel of it and you aren't looking for a cohesive story, you might enjoy this book, but I was really thrown off, particularly by the ending.

The author approves of interstitial mystery. Enigmas are not shunned, but rather lathered till the thick cryptic aura crystallizes into a powder kegger. Characters doing odd, compelling things. The Happening x Inception. She knows how to incorporate phantasms of pop culture, like abstract sculptures of social id. Uncanny valley trigger warning. Magical realism in subtle doses. Like early Murakami. This quirky debut is a savage wet willy of a book. My eyes were Elmer'd to the page. One-click bought without thought the author's next-in-line, viz., Smart Ovens for Lonely People, which I hope is exactly what it sounds like.Devoured.Please, Sir, Canst I haz some more?I am enthused. The author's fandom is infectious. A skinny dip into brilliant writing that does not flaunt its wit. Not precisely lyric, but empathically resonant. Engaged the nostalgic receptors.Cartoonish madness played straight-faced, meatballs-to-the-wall, Goofy-suited literary innuendos. In a metamorphic world, conspiratorial cosmic strategies emerge, coalesce, and haunt the interiors of estranged characters. So many motifs. The seven-colored cube, the emergence of trends in the peripheries, the online presence and generation of virtual ghosts, the tentacled collision of dream with that precipice of youth regarding the utter squalor inherent in the prospect of adulthood. headphone jacks.Every disparate section fondled my fictive sweet spot. The author fired fantods at my bamboozled oglers. Experienced brain-freeze. My mind was like an over-microwaved Stretch Armstrong.Unconventional, unapproachable, uncontainable, real, poignantly meta. The author is galvanized for a miraculous career. Please unleash your potential, E. T., and phone us when your next novel is nascent.

I have never reviewed a book here on Amazon, but it's downright criminal that Rubik has only two reviews so far, both middling. Maybe you need to be of a certain age or inclination for the cultural references to be legible (Windows 95 screensavers! Chip's Challenge! Fanfiction forums!) But even if you don't have the right keys to fit those locks, this book is an impressive accomplishment in storytelling. None of the stories feels like a weak link. They all have an energy to them that kept me turning the pages. There is no neat narrative whole here. If you like your questions to all be answered, this book may be unsatisfying. For me, it was enough to see my questions recognized as the right ones to ask.