This was a weird ass novel. I should’ve known it by the title when I requested it from NetGalley, but it was even weirder than I expected.* I’m sure I requested it because the blurb mentioned the modern protagonist was in deep denial about his sexuality, but that’s all I remember the rest was a weird wonderful surprise as I read it.
This is another dual narrative novel, authors really love those lately, with one portion taking place in modern America and the other taking place in the late 19th century England, and what ties the two together is a preserved Aardvark that arrives/is created at the most inconvenient time.
In general, I would say I enjoyed the book. The two narratives worked independently of each other and probably could’ve been two separate short stories read fully, but intertwining the narrative further served to highlight the parallels between the two and left questions at the ending of the modern story on whether or not something happened. I found it being broken into only three chapters was an odd decision because there were so many smaller breaks when the narrative shifted, but that was neither here nor there really.
I enjoyed the Brontë family (I now want three puppies and really appreciated the later specific call out was for Anne’s Agnes Grey and not Charlotte or Emily’s works) and Austen shout outs:
“Enter Rebecca Ostlet’s modest two-bedroom flat, which suits her because the parks are where Rebecca goes walking in the afternoon with her three rust-colored Irish setters named after the Brontës—Anne, Charlotte, Emily.”
“An ashtray is perched thoughtfully upon a small table by the window next to an assortment of books, the titles of which Downing, whose thoughts remain with the aardvark, can deduce no hidden meaning Man and Wife by Wilkie Collins, Trollope’s latest Phineas Redux, and a faded copy of Jane Austen’s Persuasion. He notices only the absence of any Dickens and Dickens is is favorite.”
I found the modern story more interesting, mostly from it’s parallels of Aaron Schock’s fall from grace (Wikipedia link), but the way it was written was incredibly jarring. It was written entirely in the second person (I think) in that everything was “you did this” or “you expected this” and it was weird to read and took a while to adjust. I also felt the exploration of masculinity and the satirical look at the protagonist’s thoughts on everything were more engaging and self-involved (definitely not self-reflective).
“Because, like, you are Not Gay, and how many times must you say it? And you don’t appreciate it when your staffers tell you to stop posing so gay in pictures, and to stop dressing so gay in your cowboy outfit just like the one Reagan wore, and stop coming your hair that old-fashioned way that’s so gay, and stop laughing so gay, shaking hands so gay, smiling with a tilt of your head so gay, and you’ve worked pretty hard to fight this, and you even had photographers follow you once, into a gym, to photograph you doing something “manly,” and you were like, lifting weights in a tank top, showing your guns, and what could be more manly than that? You have no idea why everyone singles you out all the time when there are plenty of people you know, people in positions much more powerful than yours, who vote one way in public and live another in private, and it’s hard to blame them; like you, they do not see themselves as hypocrites, they have simply seen how America works, have seen the oily machine of her power, and their desire to be included, to be a part of her Greatness, is so strong that they will create for themselves an Image.”
The best part of the above quote is the Not Gay being capitalized and thoroughly reminding me of the book hilariously titled Not Gay and how very clearly the modern protagonist would fit into that no questions asked.
The older story was just as intriguing, but Anthony’s writing I felt got in the way. Part of it could be the characterization of the protagonist, I mean she legit says the character loves Dickens, but the length of many of the descriptions and sentences definitely made this a slog at some points:
“The event is free. As the minutes tick by and all Gentlemen have arrived, enter the men from the unskilled professions, these miners, textile mill workers, railway porters all sporting rolled pants, country tweeds, their boots filthy with cola, and from there, in ratty cotton jackets with badly stitched seams, enter the costermongers, appearing for once in public without their rickety vegetable carts; enter the butty-gangs of sewer men, the stench of the toshers and ratcatchers until enter the coal-faced sweepers of both street and chimney, and the men mingle harmoniously, each finding his own kind, the sun is out, it is a very hot day, it is August, and everyone’s watching the gay-drunk boys in the theater troupe tossing their fake snouts, scratching the cobblestones with their fake claws, pointing, laughing, as the peaked wooden doors of the All Saints Church across the street bust open and out spill the fat clergymen, rosy-hot in their cassocks—they are leaving the cool vestibule of the church to come View the aardvark—and Downing can sense that it is, at last, finally Time.”
I legit fell asleep reading that passage (two sentences). Twice. Ugh. And there comes a point where she talks about abortifacients and I swear listed every single name for them and I just kept going, okay I get it please stop now.
The tragedy of both narratives are fitting. The historical narrative wraps up as only it could with a sarcastic and miserable happily ever after and a finite ending. The modern story leaves more to question (and maybe hope?), but ultimately reiterates that the protagonist remains a lonely disgusting character driven by some urge to put others down no matter the cost and no matter how menial.
Recommendation: It took a while to get into Anthony’s writing style, but overall I enjoyed it. The split narrative was an interesting way to tie the two stories involving the same taxidermied aardvark together in a comically tragic farce. I’m not sure I’ll read more of Anthony’s writing as the offbeat/quirkiness of it did make getting through some parts a little more difficult than I hoped when I thought this would be a light quick read.
*I received a copy of Enter the Aardvark via NetGalley in return for my honest opinion. No goods or money were exchanged.
Opening Line: “It is August. Congress is in recess. You are not in recess.”
Closing Line: “It’s not the first time, you think, it won’t be the last, and delightedly watch his wrinkled face fall as you take a large bite, bearing yourself into the infinite boredom.” (Whited out to avoid spoilers, highlight to read.)
2 thoughts on “Book 686: Enter the Aardvark – Jessica Anthony”