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rachelmanija Aug. 17th, 2021 10:06 am)
rachelmanija Aug. 17th, 2021 10:06 am)Cass Neary was involved in the New York punk scene of the 70s, photographing junkies, corpses, and herself as characters; think Weegee meets Cindy Sherman. She published one cult classic book, then was raped by a stranger at knifepoint. Things stopped for her, and the world moved on and left her behind.
Thirty years later, she's still living in the same apartment, still drawn to dead things and damaged people, doing any drug she can lay her hands on, having fucked-up relationships with men and women, and indulging in random petty theft. When her drug dealer offers her a gig interviewing a reclusive and retired woman photographer whom Cass admires, she goes for it because she really needs the money.
The gig is on an island in Maine, and the chilly atmosphere makes you cold just reading it. Cass discovers that the job isn't what she thought, the area has a whole lot of disturbing history, and there may still be a killer on the loose. The mystery is less than mysterious, but the book is about character and atmosphere and suspense, not puzzle-solving.
Cass is self-destructive and unlikable in a way one doesn't often see with middle-aged female characters who are the protagonist of their own book. That is, I actually did... maybe like isn't quite the right word... but I did find her compelling and rooted for her, even when she was doing objectively terrible things like photographing dying people rather than calling 911. "Generation loss" is a photography term, and she's extremely convincing as a photographer. A big part of why I enjoyed spending the length of a book in her dark, depressed, nihilistic head was that it means you see through her photographer's eyes.
Monda is an excellent narrator for Cass Neary. I first encountered her in Grady Hendrix's We Sold Our Souls, and she's great here with an extremely different type of hard-edged, ground-down middle-aged woman who was famous in a niche way many years ago.
There's some light "is it fantasy" elements, which I enjoyed. Cass has some experiences in childhood which might be glimpses of cosmic horror or might be hallucinations or have other mundane explanations. She can sense people's damage or at least believes that she can, which again might be a very specific psychic gift or just a very specific type of intuition/keen observation. Or maybe she just thinks she can sense damage, and she's never proved wrong because who isn't damaged, especially in her social circles?
(Personally, I vote for "yes, she looked into an actual cosmic horror and it looked back which explains a lot" and "specific intuition/observation plus hang out with dealers and addicts, and it's not hard to find damaged people.")
Thirty years later, she's still living in the same apartment, still drawn to dead things and damaged people, doing any drug she can lay her hands on, having fucked-up relationships with men and women, and indulging in random petty theft. When her drug dealer offers her a gig interviewing a reclusive and retired woman photographer whom Cass admires, she goes for it because she really needs the money.
The gig is on an island in Maine, and the chilly atmosphere makes you cold just reading it. Cass discovers that the job isn't what she thought, the area has a whole lot of disturbing history, and there may still be a killer on the loose. The mystery is less than mysterious, but the book is about character and atmosphere and suspense, not puzzle-solving.
Cass is self-destructive and unlikable in a way one doesn't often see with middle-aged female characters who are the protagonist of their own book. That is, I actually did... maybe like isn't quite the right word... but I did find her compelling and rooted for her, even when she was doing objectively terrible things like photographing dying people rather than calling 911. "Generation loss" is a photography term, and she's extremely convincing as a photographer. A big part of why I enjoyed spending the length of a book in her dark, depressed, nihilistic head was that it means you see through her photographer's eyes.
Monda is an excellent narrator for Cass Neary. I first encountered her in Grady Hendrix's We Sold Our Souls, and she's great here with an extremely different type of hard-edged, ground-down middle-aged woman who was famous in a niche way many years ago.
There's some light "is it fantasy" elements, which I enjoyed. Cass has some experiences in childhood which might be glimpses of cosmic horror or might be hallucinations or have other mundane explanations. She can sense people's damage or at least believes that she can, which again might be a very specific psychic gift or just a very specific type of intuition/keen observation. Or maybe she just thinks she can sense damage, and she's never proved wrong because who isn't damaged, especially in her social circles?
(Personally, I vote for "yes, she looked into an actual cosmic horror and it looked back which explains a lot" and "specific intuition/observation plus hang out with dealers and addicts, and it's not hard to find damaged people.")
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I also really wanted to see Aphrodite's island photos. They sounded absolutely gorgeous. And not depicting corpses, which is always a plus.
I really want Cass Neary/Laura Mars. I also kept thinking of True Detective S1 when I was reading this one. Imagine Marty having to deal with new partner Rust and witness Cass Neary at the same time.
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It does! IIRC, Available Dark, the next one, also involves photographs, but then Hard Light is filmmaking. I still need to read the new one, The Book of Lamps and Banners.
POOR MARTY, but also, I would kill to see that.
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"Let's make the car a place of silent reflection."