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Человек-змея
"Человек-змея".
"Человек-хамелеон".
Мальчишка из провинциального американского городка, страдающий уникальным психическим расстройством - отсутствием собственной личности. Однако проклятие становится даром - ведь отсутствие личности собственной идет у него рука об руку со способностью в совершенстве вживаться в личности чужие.
Опасная способность.
Способность, за которую в мире криминала платят большие деньги.
Путь наверх "человека-змеи" начинается.
"Человек-хамелеон".
Мальчишка из провинциального американского городка, страдающий уникальным психическим расстройством - отсутствием собственной личности. Однако проклятие становится даром - ведь отсутствие личности собственной идет у него рука об руку со способностью в совершенстве вживаться в личности чужие.
Опасная способность.
Способность, за которую в мире криминала платят большие деньги.
Путь наверх "человека-змеи" начинается.
256 pages, Hardcover
First published January 1, 2002
190 people are currently reading
18770 people want to read
About the author
Craig Clevenger
16 books935 followersAuthor of books frequently borrowed but seldom returned.
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 607 reviews
January 4, 2022
Thank you to Melki for not only discovering this lost valuable of Los Angeles noir but penning a stellar review that put it on my radar. Published in 2002, The Contortionist's Handbook is my introduction to Craig Clevenger. This is the first person account of "Daniel John Fletcher," née Steven Benjamin Edwards, originally John Dolan Vincent, a forger in his mid-20s whose drug addiction routinely leads to overdose which leads to 72-hour psychiatric evaluation for suicide risk. Clevenger spares no detail when it comes to the pharmaceutical and psychiatric care of an addict, as well as the fine art of making people disappear.
Due to a hospital's legal obligation to determine whether an overdose patient attempted suicide and is a risk to themselves, "Danny" has to meet with a psychiatric evaluator before being cleared to return home to his girlfriend, a cocktail waitress named Keara. He not only has to convince the evaluator that he's "not a head case," but maintain the false identity he's operating under, answering questions in the way he's trained himself, using body language in the way he's trained himself. During his interview with a weathered psychiatrist in his mid-thirties, the narrator fills the reader in on how he came to be a "contortionist," the job title he prefers to "forger".
John Dolan Vincent and his sister were raised by a single mother, a coffeeshop waitress. His father was away often, claiming to be digging for gold, but most likely in the hoosegow. John is polydactyly; his left hand has a duplicate metacarpus (ring finger). From a young age, he suffered crippling migraines his father referred to as godsplitters and as an adult lead John to self-medicate with drugs. At the age of 9, John's father bought him a book on sleight of hand, which he used not only to hide his extra digit but perfect the art of shoplifting. With barely one parent at home and an indifferent school system, he began a career forging documents.
Maybe you stiffed somebody for a lot of cash. Maybe that somebody wears three-hundred-dollar sweatsuits and runs his business in a coded ledger out of a pawnshop back room or pool hall or bar. Maybe you slept with some other guy's wife while he was doing time. The worst life has to offer doesn't scare him anymore and he wants to find you when he's out. Or maybe he's a career pencil pusher, hairline making a retreat to the back of his skull halfway through his third decade and he's had one too many anonymous parking lot dings on his precious convertible and been yelled at by his boss once too often and ignored by the waitresses in the short skirts and you are his breaking point.
You need to disappear. Maybe find somebody your age, with your stats, with no family, friends or police record who's at death's door and will sell you his name for a few hundred bucks. But the odds are against you finding someone like that. So you need to work from the beginning.
Find a name. Check tombstones, obituaries, estate sale Bibles. Find something familiar but not obvious, distinct but forgettable: Norton, Dillon, Harris.
Occupations: Cooper, Porter, Taylor, Donner, Thatcher, Barber, Farmer.
Materials: Wood, Silver, Steel.
Flora: Branch, Fields, Weed.
Fauna: Wolf, Bird, Crow, Hawk.
Titles: Sheriff, Sage, King, Pope, Priest.
Colors: Brown, Black, White, Green.
A name people have heard before, won't think twice about, won't remember. You're not looking for a baby, you're looking for parents.
As a guidebook for someone looking to disappear, or forging identification documents in Los Angeles, The Contortionist's Handbook leaves no stone unturned. No doubt the Internet and changes in how local and federal government departments operate have made much of this information obsolete, but for purposes of researching how a forger would go about their work in the late 20th century, this novel was a goldmine. Do's and don'ts. What an artful forger has in their workshop. What materials they need to acquire. How many different types of ID there are. I love good lists within a book and Clevenger drops these in to great effect.
My wallet: a DF monogram--three dollars from a swap meet vendor--mink oiled and left in my windowsill for a month, then run through the rinse cycle. Driver's license, video rental card (I rent documentaries I don't watch to go with the magazine subscriptions I don't read--I have to change hobbies a lot), credit card, ticket stub (The Divine Horsemen w/fIREHOSE at the Variety Arts Center), receipts (ATM, liquor store, strip club, gas station), work ID, Jen/Karen's picture, an unused codeine prescription and business cards (mechanic, used record store, dry cleaner). The cops went through it, forgot it.
The novel is a character study and lacks a strong narrative. There's dialogue throughout and good dialogue (I particularly liked the narrator's account of two freaky ex-girlfriends and his more compassionate, current one), but Clevenger doesn't involve his narrator in a caper in the way that a writer like Elmore Leonard would. The B-story is the A-story. I didn't like the title and through no fault of the author's, the cover is terrible. But Clevenger's acumen when it comes to detailing the underworld of his forger--including the strip clubs or dives of L.A. he'd frequent when needing to socialize anonymously--impressed me.
Due to a hospital's legal obligation to determine whether an overdose patient attempted suicide and is a risk to themselves, "Danny" has to meet with a psychiatric evaluator before being cleared to return home to his girlfriend, a cocktail waitress named Keara. He not only has to convince the evaluator that he's "not a head case," but maintain the false identity he's operating under, answering questions in the way he's trained himself, using body language in the way he's trained himself. During his interview with a weathered psychiatrist in his mid-thirties, the narrator fills the reader in on how he came to be a "contortionist," the job title he prefers to "forger".
John Dolan Vincent and his sister were raised by a single mother, a coffeeshop waitress. His father was away often, claiming to be digging for gold, but most likely in the hoosegow. John is polydactyly; his left hand has a duplicate metacarpus (ring finger). From a young age, he suffered crippling migraines his father referred to as godsplitters and as an adult lead John to self-medicate with drugs. At the age of 9, John's father bought him a book on sleight of hand, which he used not only to hide his extra digit but perfect the art of shoplifting. With barely one parent at home and an indifferent school system, he began a career forging documents.
Maybe you stiffed somebody for a lot of cash. Maybe that somebody wears three-hundred-dollar sweatsuits and runs his business in a coded ledger out of a pawnshop back room or pool hall or bar. Maybe you slept with some other guy's wife while he was doing time. The worst life has to offer doesn't scare him anymore and he wants to find you when he's out. Or maybe he's a career pencil pusher, hairline making a retreat to the back of his skull halfway through his third decade and he's had one too many anonymous parking lot dings on his precious convertible and been yelled at by his boss once too often and ignored by the waitresses in the short skirts and you are his breaking point.
You need to disappear. Maybe find somebody your age, with your stats, with no family, friends or police record who's at death's door and will sell you his name for a few hundred bucks. But the odds are against you finding someone like that. So you need to work from the beginning.
Find a name. Check tombstones, obituaries, estate sale Bibles. Find something familiar but not obvious, distinct but forgettable: Norton, Dillon, Harris.
Occupations: Cooper, Porter, Taylor, Donner, Thatcher, Barber, Farmer.
Materials: Wood, Silver, Steel.
Flora: Branch, Fields, Weed.
Fauna: Wolf, Bird, Crow, Hawk.
Titles: Sheriff, Sage, King, Pope, Priest.
Colors: Brown, Black, White, Green.
A name people have heard before, won't think twice about, won't remember. You're not looking for a baby, you're looking for parents.
As a guidebook for someone looking to disappear, or forging identification documents in Los Angeles, The Contortionist's Handbook leaves no stone unturned. No doubt the Internet and changes in how local and federal government departments operate have made much of this information obsolete, but for purposes of researching how a forger would go about their work in the late 20th century, this novel was a goldmine. Do's and don'ts. What an artful forger has in their workshop. What materials they need to acquire. How many different types of ID there are. I love good lists within a book and Clevenger drops these in to great effect.
My wallet: a DF monogram--three dollars from a swap meet vendor--mink oiled and left in my windowsill for a month, then run through the rinse cycle. Driver's license, video rental card (I rent documentaries I don't watch to go with the magazine subscriptions I don't read--I have to change hobbies a lot), credit card, ticket stub (The Divine Horsemen w/fIREHOSE at the Variety Arts Center), receipts (ATM, liquor store, strip club, gas station), work ID, Jen/Karen's picture, an unused codeine prescription and business cards (mechanic, used record store, dry cleaner). The cops went through it, forgot it.
The novel is a character study and lacks a strong narrative. There's dialogue throughout and good dialogue (I particularly liked the narrator's account of two freaky ex-girlfriends and his more compassionate, current one), but Clevenger doesn't involve his narrator in a caper in the way that a writer like Elmore Leonard would. The B-story is the A-story. I didn't like the title and through no fault of the author's, the cover is terrible. But Clevenger's acumen when it comes to detailing the underworld of his forger--including the strip clubs or dives of L.A. he'd frequent when needing to socialize anonymously--impressed me.
May 5, 2021
I've changed my name six times in three years, my name, my Social Security number, parents, employment history, school transcripts, and fingerprints. I still have to remember how to act natural.
Since early childhood, John Vincent Dolan has been able to copy things . . . pretty much anything.
I can copy anything now. Straight lines---name the length to the centimeter---and perfect circles. Give me an angle degree and I can do it. Any signature, even the worst doctor's scrawl. I kept the sample of a signature and badge number from a speeding ticket years ago. I can't afford to fix something, Officer Blaine signs off and I'm good to go. I can do fingerprints.
His unique abilities have led him to a career as a forger For years he's stayed on the move, and mostly out of trouble, though his attempts to battle his "godsplitter" migraines have been problematic. Life may not be good, but it's okay. Survivable. But now his talents have brought him to the attention of some unsavory characters . . .
And Jimmy's needs were getting bigger. Kept saying he wanted to introduce me to some people, that they appreciated what I'd done for them so far, and that they had plans for me.
This is a novel, and author, that deserves all the hype. This is easily one of the best books I've read this year, and I'm looking forward to a reread someday.
*This is the May read for the Pulp Fiction Group. Please join us, if you'd like.
https://www.goodreads.com/group/show/...
Since early childhood, John Vincent Dolan has been able to copy things . . . pretty much anything.
I can copy anything now. Straight lines---name the length to the centimeter---and perfect circles. Give me an angle degree and I can do it. Any signature, even the worst doctor's scrawl. I kept the sample of a signature and badge number from a speeding ticket years ago. I can't afford to fix something, Officer Blaine signs off and I'm good to go. I can do fingerprints.
His unique abilities have led him to a career as a forger For years he's stayed on the move, and mostly out of trouble, though his attempts to battle his "godsplitter" migraines have been problematic. Life may not be good, but it's okay. Survivable. But now his talents have brought him to the attention of some unsavory characters . . .
And Jimmy's needs were getting bigger. Kept saying he wanted to introduce me to some people, that they appreciated what I'd done for them so far, and that they had plans for me.
This is a novel, and author, that deserves all the hype. This is easily one of the best books I've read this year, and I'm looking forward to a reread someday.
*This is the May read for the Pulp Fiction Group. Please join us, if you'd like.
https://www.goodreads.com/group/show/...
April 21, 2021
از سری کتابهایی که باید بگم به اسمش توجه نکنید و حتما بخونید :)
![Profile Image for Ed [Redacted].](/_next/image?url=https%3A%2F%2Fi.gr-assets.com%2Fimages%2FS%2Fcompressed.photo.goodreads.com%2Fusers%2F1429513592i%2F3968676.jpg&w=128&q=75)
March 28, 2012
John Vincent is a master forger with eleven fingers, at least as many identities and debilitating migraines. He follows a pattern over the years where he suffers from his migraines until he eventually takes too much medication and is hospitalized, often as a suicide risk.
Vincent has made a life of fooling those charged with evaluating the psychological states of
patients hospitalized for drug overdoses, and this time he plays a game of cat and mouse with quite a bit more than usual riding on the outcome.
If you were to explain the plot of this book to me a month or two ago I would probably have passed. The plot, however, takes a back seat to the outstanding characterization Clevenger shows in this novel. great characterization and extreme amounts of research into document forgery mixed with a minimalist prose style made this book fast and entirely entertaining. My only quibble is with the ending, which seemed a bit pat to me. This was a fine effort and was well worth the time. 4.5/5
Vincent has made a life of fooling those charged with evaluating the psychological states of
patients hospitalized for drug overdoses, and this time he plays a game of cat and mouse with quite a bit more than usual riding on the outcome.
If you were to explain the plot of this book to me a month or two ago I would probably have passed. The plot, however, takes a back seat to the outstanding characterization Clevenger shows in this novel. great characterization and extreme amounts of research into document forgery mixed with a minimalist prose style made this book fast and entirely entertaining. My only quibble is with the ending, which seemed a bit pat to me. This was a fine effort and was well worth the time. 4.5/5
April 15, 2019
Craig Clevenger has crafted something genuinely handsome, attractive to those who enjoy minimalist lit without junk filler. A story that cuts right to the chase, gives you all the right details if you’re an adult who knows how to read the fine print in transgressive fiction.
I won’t go into much detail about content, but it’s a rare view inside the mind of a junkie-genius who takes his extraordinary skills to the next level by supporting his habit[s] as a counterfeit papermaker, a faux ombudsman of legal identities.
Jam-by-jam, he trades his identity in for a new one, carefully crafting himself with well-forged papers and airtight backgrounds. But enough said, ‘cause the story's for you to read, not for me to tell you.
Let me just preach this—somewhere in the cesspool of dark-lit, Bukowski’s Henry Chinaski and Palahniuk’s Tyler Durden copulated a rogue seed, and it ended up on Clevenger’s keyboard.
I won’t go into much detail about content, but it’s a rare view inside the mind of a junkie-genius who takes his extraordinary skills to the next level by supporting his habit[s] as a counterfeit papermaker, a faux ombudsman of legal identities.
Jam-by-jam, he trades his identity in for a new one, carefully crafting himself with well-forged papers and airtight backgrounds. But enough said, ‘cause the story's for you to read, not for me to tell you.
Let me just preach this—somewhere in the cesspool of dark-lit, Bukowski’s Henry Chinaski and Palahniuk’s Tyler Durden copulated a rogue seed, and it ended up on Clevenger’s keyboard.
June 20, 2015
Goodreads tells me that I've read 662 books so far. And it's safe to say that I haven't read anything like this one ever in my life. :') Talk about having your brain blown to bits because so much awesomeness.
May 23, 2018
I don’t know when, where or why I picked this one up, but I have had it sitting around for a long time. I didn’t read the synopsis or any reviews either. I just picked it up one day and started reading.
Glad I did.
It was surprisingly intelligent. Especially for a debut novel.
The writing was clean and had some bite to it here and there.
The characterization is what made it though. Very well done.
A solid 4+ Stars.
Glad I did.
It was surprisingly intelligent. Especially for a debut novel.
The writing was clean and had some bite to it here and there.
The characterization is what made it though. Very well done.
A solid 4+ Stars.
August 28, 2011
I was disappointed with this book. It held me for the first third, then I found it irritating and tedious.
The "contortionist" in the title is an accomplished forger, reinventing himself in detail to escape trouble. He takes great care with reproducing pasts in documented, legal detail. He is of superior intellect, beating the legal and healthcare systems at every encounter. He suffers from debilitating migraines and is a substance abuse.
As a physician, I was irritated by the author's descriptions of the professionals that he encountered in the mental health profession. Truthfully, an uninsured patient in the US mental health pipeline is unlikely to get ten minutes from a psychiatrist, certainly not an in-depth evaluation as depicted in the book. The whole treatment of the medical side of the book was patchy and misleading. The author had obviously researched migraines and mental health, but there were many holes remaining in the story line. The depiction of the healthcare side of plot detracted from the entertainment value of the book, from my perspective.
The "contortionist" in the title is an accomplished forger, reinventing himself in detail to escape trouble. He takes great care with reproducing pasts in documented, legal detail. He is of superior intellect, beating the legal and healthcare systems at every encounter. He suffers from debilitating migraines and is a substance abuse.
As a physician, I was irritated by the author's descriptions of the professionals that he encountered in the mental health profession. Truthfully, an uninsured patient in the US mental health pipeline is unlikely to get ten minutes from a psychiatrist, certainly not an in-depth evaluation as depicted in the book. The whole treatment of the medical side of the book was patchy and misleading. The author had obviously researched migraines and mental health, but there were many holes remaining in the story line. The depiction of the healthcare side of plot detracted from the entertainment value of the book, from my perspective.
July 21, 2012
This book is the equivalent of that thousand-yard stare you get when you stay up until seven in the morning and are sitting outside somewhere with a headache and three cigarettes left.
It's cold and it's dry, and it's unpleasant. You don't like the main character, but you're fascinated by him. And not just because Clevenger records in minute (and plausible) detail how the forger reinvents himself. Each character and event in his life is cataloged and stared down with the same steely regard he uses to forge birth certs and steal social security numbers. The games he plays draw you in, and the book's narrative hook (events are relayed as the main character tries to manipulate a psychiatrist into letting him out of a hospital) makes things almost unbearably tense.
My only qualm is that the ending isn't as satisfactory as it could be, but there are some nice twists and reverses, and as you'll burn through it in a couple of hours, my suggestion is to go for it.
(I think it's out of print though, but you're more than welcome to borrow my copy)
It's cold and it's dry, and it's unpleasant. You don't like the main character, but you're fascinated by him. And not just because Clevenger records in minute (and plausible) detail how the forger reinvents himself. Each character and event in his life is cataloged and stared down with the same steely regard he uses to forge birth certs and steal social security numbers. The games he plays draw you in, and the book's narrative hook (events are relayed as the main character tries to manipulate a psychiatrist into letting him out of a hospital) makes things almost unbearably tense.
My only qualm is that the ending isn't as satisfactory as it could be, but there are some nice twists and reverses, and as you'll burn through it in a couple of hours, my suggestion is to go for it.
(I think it's out of print though, but you're more than welcome to borrow my copy)
November 14, 2010
Clevenger almost wound up as one of those guys I'd wish people would stop prattling on and on about.
"So brilliant."
"Such a genius."
And I was so incredibly sick of hearing it.
"Dermaphoria" was what I ended up cutting me teeth on regarding his work, and I must admit, I found myself struggling through it and wondering what all the fuss was about.
That didn't stop me from picking up TCH when I finally found a copy for under $40, or more specifically, when MacAdam/Cage finally pulled their heads out of their asses and decided to give the book another print run. A movie deal and high demand can do that.
Nonetheless, my expectations were considerably low, and so the following read pertaining to an identity-shifting expert with an extra finger was that much more of a pleasant surprise. Palahniuk said, "...the best book I've read in five years. Easily. Maybe even ten years," and I'm inclined to agree.
Clevenger spins a web of lies and identity crisis so complex, it's a wonder that the reader doesn't get lost in the details of how to fake a birth certificate or SR-22, but the author never shakes you...not unless he wants to. In TCH, we see John Dolan Vincent pitted up against "The Evaluator" for his freedom after an overdose, the story alternating between this battle of wits, tells, and intellect, and the seedy past of this protagonist of how he came use a deformity to his advantage. It reads similar to Palahniuk: minimalist with loads of factual information regarding the trade of forgery (we've seen this before with Jack and explosives in "Fight Club"), but unlike the one and two-star reviews on Amazon where Clevenger is ostracized for being a rip-off, it's obvious to me that the author has made this style his own within the neo-noir genre.
Simply put, I see the influence, but nothing that would make me believe Craig wrote this thinking, "What would Chuck do?" And perhaps this is why his second novel turned out so different from his first...to distance himself from the name, the legacy, the style.
I wish he would return to it.
TCH is one of those books that when I put it down, I knew I'd read it again at least eight more times. I can't recommend it enough.
"So brilliant."
"Such a genius."
And I was so incredibly sick of hearing it.
"Dermaphoria" was what I ended up cutting me teeth on regarding his work, and I must admit, I found myself struggling through it and wondering what all the fuss was about.
That didn't stop me from picking up TCH when I finally found a copy for under $40, or more specifically, when MacAdam/Cage finally pulled their heads out of their asses and decided to give the book another print run. A movie deal and high demand can do that.
Nonetheless, my expectations were considerably low, and so the following read pertaining to an identity-shifting expert with an extra finger was that much more of a pleasant surprise. Palahniuk said, "...the best book I've read in five years. Easily. Maybe even ten years," and I'm inclined to agree.
Clevenger spins a web of lies and identity crisis so complex, it's a wonder that the reader doesn't get lost in the details of how to fake a birth certificate or SR-22, but the author never shakes you...not unless he wants to. In TCH, we see John Dolan Vincent pitted up against "The Evaluator" for his freedom after an overdose, the story alternating between this battle of wits, tells, and intellect, and the seedy past of this protagonist of how he came use a deformity to his advantage. It reads similar to Palahniuk: minimalist with loads of factual information regarding the trade of forgery (we've seen this before with Jack and explosives in "Fight Club"), but unlike the one and two-star reviews on Amazon where Clevenger is ostracized for being a rip-off, it's obvious to me that the author has made this style his own within the neo-noir genre.
Simply put, I see the influence, but nothing that would make me believe Craig wrote this thinking, "What would Chuck do?" And perhaps this is why his second novel turned out so different from his first...to distance himself from the name, the legacy, the style.
I wish he would return to it.
TCH is one of those books that when I put it down, I knew I'd read it again at least eight more times. I can't recommend it enough.
December 29, 2010
When I was first recommended this book, I had no idea what to expect. For whatever reason, I was mainly going by the cover art and relying on that to tell me what this book was mainly about. A contortionist. Wrong. Never judge a book by it's cover folks.
The book is about John Vincent. John is a man who suffers from such severe headaches that he usually ends up overdosing on painkillers and various prescription pills in an effort to stop the torture. When this happens, nine times out of ten, he gets picked up by paramedics and brought to the hospital in an effort to save his life. Once revived, it's mandatory that he meets with a psychiatrist to determine whether or not the OD was accidental or an attempt to end his life. Knowing that this will most certainly happen again (as this is the only way he knows how to deal with the headaches), he's forced to create an entirely new identity so that if he is picked up again by medics, he's not tossed in a mental institution.
The narrative jumps all over the place from the present (a conversation with an evaluator due to his most recent overdose) to the various identities he's stolen in the past. Usually, I can be a little thrown off by this but with the trend I've been taking with authors lately, it seems to be the status quo.
As good as this book was, I had this feeling that Vincent was never really in any sort of danger of being caught. The man is just so good at what he does, he seems like he's leaps and bounds ahead of any potential threat. However, I guess that's not really what the book is about as Clevenger seems to spend more time with his relationship with his father and the women in his life. Don't get me wrong, I'm not complaining, I was pretty much glued to these pages throughout. It's just, I can't really figure out why I was.
Clevenger is an excellent writer, the man really has some talent. I'm genuinely surprised that this hasn't been picked up by someone in Hollywood yet. It seems like the perfect movie for someone like David Fincher. I guess with the ending being some anti-climatic, it may create some problems.
The book is about John Vincent. John is a man who suffers from such severe headaches that he usually ends up overdosing on painkillers and various prescription pills in an effort to stop the torture. When this happens, nine times out of ten, he gets picked up by paramedics and brought to the hospital in an effort to save his life. Once revived, it's mandatory that he meets with a psychiatrist to determine whether or not the OD was accidental or an attempt to end his life. Knowing that this will most certainly happen again (as this is the only way he knows how to deal with the headaches), he's forced to create an entirely new identity so that if he is picked up again by medics, he's not tossed in a mental institution.
The narrative jumps all over the place from the present (a conversation with an evaluator due to his most recent overdose) to the various identities he's stolen in the past. Usually, I can be a little thrown off by this but with the trend I've been taking with authors lately, it seems to be the status quo.
As good as this book was, I had this feeling that Vincent was never really in any sort of danger of being caught. The man is just so good at what he does, he seems like he's leaps and bounds ahead of any potential threat. However, I guess that's not really what the book is about as Clevenger seems to spend more time with his relationship with his father and the women in his life. Don't get me wrong, I'm not complaining, I was pretty much glued to these pages throughout. It's just, I can't really figure out why I was.
Clevenger is an excellent writer, the man really has some talent. I'm genuinely surprised that this hasn't been picked up by someone in Hollywood yet. It seems like the perfect movie for someone like David Fincher. I guess with the ending being some anti-climatic, it may create some problems.
April 25, 2008
The protagonist of this story is a twenty-something forgery artist with a photographic memory, a head for numbers, and six fingers on his left hand, and the story begins with him recounting the numerous times in his life he’s overdosed on drugs – and if you think that one sentence description is ridiculous and fascinating, you should definitely read this book, because that ain’t the half of it. John Vincent is the main character’s real name, but the book is told as a series of chapters titled by various aliases John has assumed. The narrative jumps all over the place – from the present where a mental health specialist is assessing John as a suicide risk (he OD’d on pills to combat a recurring migraine), to various instances in his past with his abusive and alcoholic father, to his time in a juvenile delinquency hall, to his life on his own faking his identity. The book describes in great detail how he goes about determining his names and obtaining fake driver’s licenses and social security cards – to the extent that I feel 70% confident I could pull off identity theft and fraud. The dialogue and scenes between the mental health specialist and John in the present day are amazing, as the first person narrative describes how and why John answers certain questions the way he does – to trick the assessor into believing he’s not a risk (Clevenger specifies which questions are asked and why certain answers are suspicious and certain ones are not; very well-researched). The prose in this was one of my biggest pleasant surprises of the year – it’s quick and sharp and hard-hitting, almost noir-ish in a way; as original a voice and narrative as I’ve read in years. The only issue some might have with this book is its apparent lack of a coherent plot: most of the book proceeds in flashbacks and present-day excerpts, but it doesn’t feel like its leading somewhere. And then in the last 20-30 pages, the author pulls you to the present and the book ends as if John has run out of relevant memories to share. It feels a bit abrupt, but to me, it’s consistent with the character and atmosphere of the whole book. One of the more entertaining books I’ve read this year; highly recommended.
May 8, 2019
NOME:Johnny (alias Chris,Martin,Paul,Eric,Danny )
SEGNI PARTICOLARI:6 dita nella mano sinistra
PROFESSIONE:"contorsionista" (o almeno è quella che più assomiglia alla sua straordinaria abilità)
Johnny ogni tot di mesi soffre di emicranie lancinanti,e ogni volta,per cercare di alleviare quel dolore atroce,che gli infuria nella corteccia cerebrale come una sega,finisce per ingurgitare un bel po' di antidolorifici ( e magari pure bourbon)e così...sempre la stessa storia:
Overdose--->ricovero in ospedale--> risveglio da mani guantate ---> valutazione psichiatrica.
Per non rischiare di venire rinchiuso in qualche istituto d'igiene mentale,a causa di tutte queste sospette , frequenti overdose,Johnny si costruisce ,ogni volta,una nuova identità ,curando ogni minimo dettaglio.
E' un tipo furbo,John Dolan Vincent,e meticoloso,ha una mano precisa e un'ottima memoria fotografica,è capace di fabbricarsi ,o procurarsi,con vari stratagemmi,tutti i certificati necessari(certificato di nascita,patente,nuovo indirizzo per la posta,tesserino del lavoro,n.di previdenza sociale,etc..)per ripartire da zero.
Sempre in fuga.
Sempre con la guardia alta.
Sempre a fare calcoli. Di continuo.
Senza fidarsi di nessuno.
Finché incontra Keara , una ragazza con occhi scuri,una cascata di riccioli castani,uno strano sorriso asimmetrico,un piccolo neo sulla clavicola,e altri tre sul lato del collo,come i vertici di una costellazione...ed è come se il grumo di freddo un poco si sciogliesse
PS:bella l'immagine finale
Resta un'inquadratura di un ragazzo, seduto su un blocco di cemento,in mezzo ad un terreno pieno di erbacce,con una lettera e una busta azzurra...
[colonna sonora:Neil Young "Sugar Mountain" https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FsACI... :) ]
SEGNI PARTICOLARI:6 dita nella mano sinistra
PROFESSIONE:"contorsionista" (o almeno è quella che più assomiglia alla sua straordinaria abilità)
Johnny ogni tot di mesi soffre di emicranie lancinanti,e ogni volta,per cercare di alleviare quel dolore atroce,che gli infuria nella corteccia cerebrale come una sega,finisce per ingurgitare un bel po' di antidolorifici ( e magari pure bourbon)e così...sempre la stessa storia:
Overdose--->ricovero in ospedale--> risveglio da mani guantate ---> valutazione psichiatrica.
Per non rischiare di venire rinchiuso in qualche istituto d'igiene mentale,a causa di tutte queste sospette , frequenti overdose,Johnny si costruisce ,ogni volta,una nuova identità ,curando ogni minimo dettaglio.
E' un tipo furbo,John Dolan Vincent,e meticoloso,ha una mano precisa e un'ottima memoria fotografica,è capace di fabbricarsi ,o procurarsi,con vari stratagemmi,tutti i certificati necessari(certificato di nascita,patente,nuovo indirizzo per la posta,tesserino del lavoro,n.di previdenza sociale,etc..)per ripartire da zero.
Sempre in fuga.
Sempre con la guardia alta.
Sempre a fare calcoli. Di continuo.
Senza fidarsi di nessuno.
Finché incontra Keara , una ragazza con occhi scuri,una cascata di riccioli castani,uno strano sorriso asimmetrico,un piccolo neo sulla clavicola,e altri tre sul lato del collo,come i vertici di una costellazione...ed è come se il grumo di freddo un poco si sciogliesse
PS:bella l'immagine finale
Resta un'inquadratura di un ragazzo, seduto su un blocco di cemento,in mezzo ad un terreno pieno di erbacce,con una lettera e una busta azzurra...
[colonna sonora:Neil Young "Sugar Mountain" https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FsACI... :) ]
December 1, 2021
داستان از آنجا جالب شد که هر کتابفروشیای رفتم و گفتم کتاب «راهنمای انعطافبدنی» را میخواهم چپچپ نگاهم کردند، یکیشان که شاهکار بود و برگشت گفت :«نه خانم!ما کتابهای فیزیولوژی نداریم!».
خب خب این رمان تحسین شدهی کمیاب اسمی دارد که تحریکم میکند ببینم داخلش چه میگذرد.
کلیونجر نویسندهی باهوشی است، همانطور که راوی او و شخصیت جاعل کتاب جان وینسنت. او شبکهی دروغی که جامعهی مدرن به ما تحمیل کرده است را زیر دستش گذاشته به آن نگاه کرده و با خودش فکر کرده برای طعنه زدن به این همه فساد و جعلی که هر ثانیه ما را در خود میبلعد از چه حرف بزند؟
شاید از آدمی شش انگشتی که همهی زندگیاش هویتی جعلی داشته، سردردهایی فجیع دارد و تمام تلاشش دور زدن جامعه و سیستم قضایی و قانونی دور و برش است.
تا اینجای قضیه خیلی جذاب و پنجستاره است. داستان را که شروع میکنی هم روایت جذابی دارد، تحلیلها و توصیفاتی موبهمو و دقیق که ناخودآگاه فکر میکنیم خودمان جاعل بزرگ داستانیم.
اما از کجا قضیه سه ستاره میشود؟ از آنجا که ریتم روایت داستان تکراری میشود، الگوی داستان تکراری میشود، اینکه از صفحهی ۱۰۰ به بعد باز هم بخواهم تکرار اینکه جان وینسنت برای جعل فلان اسمش چکار میکند را بخوانم برایم خستهکننده است. از طرف دیگر پایان داستان دیر شروع شد، پایانی تکان دهنده که خیلی بهجا بود اگر حداقل چند فصل زودتر شروع میشد و مانند دکمهی روبهجلوی نوار ویدئویی عمل نمیکرد و ما را بهت زده و ناراضی نمیگذاشت.
خب خب این رمان تحسین شدهی کمیاب اسمی دارد که تحریکم میکند ببینم داخلش چه میگذرد.
کلیونجر نویسندهی باهوشی است، همانطور که راوی او و شخصیت جاعل کتاب جان وینسنت. او شبکهی دروغی که جامعهی مدرن به ما تحمیل کرده است را زیر دستش گذاشته به آن نگاه کرده و با خودش فکر کرده برای طعنه زدن به این همه فساد و جعلی که هر ثانیه ما را در خود میبلعد از چه حرف بزند؟
شاید از آدمی شش انگشتی که همهی زندگیاش هویتی جعلی داشته، سردردهایی فجیع دارد و تمام تلاشش دور زدن جامعه و سیستم قضایی و قانونی دور و برش است.
تا اینجای قضیه خیلی جذاب و پنجستاره است. داستان را که شروع میکنی هم روایت جذابی دارد، تحلیلها و توصیفاتی موبهمو و دقیق که ناخودآگاه فکر میکنیم خودمان جاعل بزرگ داستانیم.
اما از کجا قضیه سه ستاره میشود؟ از آنجا که ریتم روایت داستان تکراری میشود، الگوی داستان تکراری میشود، اینکه از صفحهی ۱۰۰ به بعد باز هم بخواهم تکرار اینکه جان وینسنت برای جعل فلان اسمش چکار میکند را بخوانم برایم خستهکننده است. از طرف دیگر پایان داستان دیر شروع شد، پایانی تکان دهنده که خیلی بهجا بود اگر حداقل چند فصل زودتر شروع میشد و مانند دکمهی روبهجلوی نوار ویدئویی عمل نمیکرد و ما را بهت زده و ناراضی نمیگذاشت.
March 13, 2013
This book was great for the first 85%.
The author is impeccable in his precision, his ability to drive home the idea of a character so fanatical about staying under the radar of police and institutions that they obsess over every detail of an identity. In fact, this book is essentially a character study of an individual who is simply unable to fit in with society, who has a deep mistrust for institutions which a privileged person considers "helpful" and who is constantly bobbing and weaving in an attempt to avoid these institutions.
The reality is, this book only falters when the focus shifts from our main character, when suddenly this secondary plot, and the trials and tribulations of a woman who the reader never really meets nor cares about become part of the resolution. Suddenly, we are supposed to care about her motivations, and surprisingly, there is a very anti-climactic non-resolution to our main character's problems.
It's an entertaining read, a fun read, but the last couple chapters just leave you uninspired.
The author is impeccable in his precision, his ability to drive home the idea of a character so fanatical about staying under the radar of police and institutions that they obsess over every detail of an identity. In fact, this book is essentially a character study of an individual who is simply unable to fit in with society, who has a deep mistrust for institutions which a privileged person considers "helpful" and who is constantly bobbing and weaving in an attempt to avoid these institutions.
The reality is, this book only falters when the focus shifts from our main character, when suddenly this secondary plot, and the trials and tribulations of a woman who the reader never really meets nor cares about become part of the resolution. Suddenly, we are supposed to care about her motivations, and surprisingly, there is a very anti-climactic non-resolution to our main character's problems.
It's an entertaining read, a fun read, but the last couple chapters just leave you uninspired.
November 21, 2021
Modern noir with some stylistic nods to both Fight Club & The Usual Suspects.
It's tightly written & well-told. The story never flags & you weave in & out of the main character's life, or really lives, as he has created & lived under numerous aliases. The central plot is that the main character (as Daniel Fletcher, one of his many aliases) is being assessed by a mental health professional to determine if he's a suicide risk after being admitted to the hospital for a barbiturate overdose. Fletcher claims he mistakenly took too many pills because of a migraine. (This is not the first time it has happened to our main character, but the doctor doesn't know that because previous times have occurred under different aliases.) The doctor assessing him doesn't realize that this 20-something-year-old is a master forger (who happens to have eleven fingers), has a photographic memory, & has spent years memorizing psychology books & others on how to "act normal", among other things. During the interview, it's really the assessor being assessed. A cat & mouse game. In the meantime, the book reveals Fletcher's real background, interwoven with different aliases & "lives" he's lived. The book is broken into sections titled with some of his different identities.
Tight, crisp, & fascinating. High praise & a recommendation from me.
It's tightly written & well-told. The story never flags & you weave in & out of the main character's life, or really lives, as he has created & lived under numerous aliases. The central plot is that the main character (as Daniel Fletcher, one of his many aliases) is being assessed by a mental health professional to determine if he's a suicide risk after being admitted to the hospital for a barbiturate overdose. Fletcher claims he mistakenly took too many pills because of a migraine. (This is not the first time it has happened to our main character, but the doctor doesn't know that because previous times have occurred under different aliases.) The doctor assessing him doesn't realize that this 20-something-year-old is a master forger (who happens to have eleven fingers), has a photographic memory, & has spent years memorizing psychology books & others on how to "act normal", among other things. During the interview, it's really the assessor being assessed. A cat & mouse game. In the meantime, the book reveals Fletcher's real background, interwoven with different aliases & "lives" he's lived. The book is broken into sections titled with some of his different identities.
Tight, crisp, & fascinating. High praise & a recommendation from me.
April 11, 2014
I took up this book because it was supposed to be a good example of neo-noir genre, which I am currently interested in. And furthermore I read so many five-star reviews on it and even Palahniuk's praise. Well, now I feel I've been cheated.
I really don't like criticizing. I liked the opening, the first couple of chapters were intriguing and promising, but then Mr Clevenger, you lost me. I kept reading till the end out of the respect of an author's work and in hope that the ending would finally bring some unexpected twist or juice. But it didn't.
The supposedly freaky features of the protagonist as six-fingers hand, drug abuse, photographic memory, "godsplitters" migraines that caused overdoses, talent with forgery, neither of those really made the character freaky nor built up into a freaky storyline. The character still felt flat and ordinary, and I couldn't begin to care about him and his destiny.
The boring incoherent plot could have been saved by an amazing voice and language use, but it didn't happen as well. The paragraphs and sentences in them often felt rambling and chunky, leading into nothingness.
In short, personally for me it was a disappointing first meeting with neo-noir.
I really don't like criticizing. I liked the opening, the first couple of chapters were intriguing and promising, but then Mr Clevenger, you lost me. I kept reading till the end out of the respect of an author's work and in hope that the ending would finally bring some unexpected twist or juice. But it didn't.
The supposedly freaky features of the protagonist as six-fingers hand, drug abuse, photographic memory, "godsplitters" migraines that caused overdoses, talent with forgery, neither of those really made the character freaky nor built up into a freaky storyline. The character still felt flat and ordinary, and I couldn't begin to care about him and his destiny.
The boring incoherent plot could have been saved by an amazing voice and language use, but it didn't happen as well. The paragraphs and sentences in them often felt rambling and chunky, leading into nothingness.
In short, personally for me it was a disappointing first meeting with neo-noir.
April 23, 2025
Shelve this next to Pahlaniuk in the early 00's and it could've been something big. It certainly feels like early Pahlaniuk, the detached first person narration moving through time with a mix of the gritty and the methodical. You have a protagonist with unusual abilities and unusual physical traits, you have an idealized female love interest who is never more than hot and accommodating, you have a guy who goes to extremes but knows how to work his way through a system like it's a bank heist.
There are some pleasures here, but after a while it gets repetitive. Especially as we discover that for once our narrator has got it wrong, that there is someone who is willing to help him, that there may be a solution to his problems that doesn't involve playing fast and loose with his own life. But this book isn't very interested in that. It is not interested in learning how to be a person, it is only really interested in the methods of evasion. Insert a "men will _____ before they go to therapy" meme here.
There are some pleasures here, but after a while it gets repetitive. Especially as we discover that for once our narrator has got it wrong, that there is someone who is willing to help him, that there may be a solution to his problems that doesn't involve playing fast and loose with his own life. But this book isn't very interested in that. It is not interested in learning how to be a person, it is only really interested in the methods of evasion. Insert a "men will _____ before they go to therapy" meme here.
October 1, 2007
I only gave this four stars because I feel strange giving five stars to a book about a six-fingered, drug-abusing guy who forges identity paperwork on a constant basis, changing his name, address, and everything else to stay one step ahead of the psychiatrists, counselors, police officers, and drug-running gangsters who all (whether they know it or not) want to figure out what this guy is really about. Oh, and he has pretty consistent, ridiculously severe migraine headaches that usually end with him in the ER and/or a mental hospital due to his routinely overdosing on varying illict and illegal pain medication.
This isn't an uplifting book, nor is it intended to be. Rather, Clevenger delves deeply into the complex, thickly woven layers of the heart, mind, and hopes/lack of hope of a young man who has done whatever he needed to in order to survive, make people not notice him, and try to rise above the family and home-life that he was born into. It's an incredibly well-written book, one that (as a therapist) I found myself fascinated by, as a majority of the time the main character is being evaluated and assessed by a running list of different emergency on-call mental health workers. He knows them, he knows their tactics, tendencies, rules, and approaches, and he stays miles ahead of them by tweaking his affect (i.e. expressions, hand movements) and words to fit the mold of whatever person it is that he knows these interviewers need to see in order to release him. There's a ridiculous amount of dead-on psychological jargon, understanding, and explanation, some of it shaming to my profession and some of it speaking to the desperation we therapists have in a field wherein most of what we do seems to be slapping homemade bandages, two sizes too small, on gaping wounds two sizes too big. Clevenger has done his homework, and it shows.
There's a gritty, addicting reality to this character and this book. I found myself coming back to it often because I found myself really needing to know what we going to happen to him next, how he would deal with it, what he would realize about himself or another person, and just how (with the linguistic equivalent of a physician's delicate scalpel) the author would crushingly communicate it to me. It's a dark book, full of many unsavory characters and even more unsavory situations, but I have no doubt that it communicates (and quite effectively so) a haunting reality that many people experience every day. Reading about the main character's family and roots, I couldn't help seeing so many of the kids I work with in his descriptions, his father, mother, and sister, and what he went through (and continues to).
For some reason, I felt throughout this book that I was reading the modern equivalent of 'The Catcher in the Rye'. It's altogether different, but one can't help but wonder if John Dolan Vincent and Holden Caulfield aren't in fact attached in some Siamese way, limbs interwined and shared through some hole punched in space and time, their stumbling footsteps echoing one another's as they attempt to grasp hold of something real, beautiful, and true in a world that doesn't often seem to feature any of those attributes on a regular basis.
Chuck Palahniuk, author of 'Fight Club' and 'Choke", is quotes as saying, 'I swear to God that this is the best book I have read in easily five years. Easily. Maybe ten years.' I get what he's saying, even if I can't quite (being hopeful and more optimistic than pessimistic) readily agree with him. It's a real book, and it's painful and touchable and terrifying all in the same moment.
Recommended.
This isn't an uplifting book, nor is it intended to be. Rather, Clevenger delves deeply into the complex, thickly woven layers of the heart, mind, and hopes/lack of hope of a young man who has done whatever he needed to in order to survive, make people not notice him, and try to rise above the family and home-life that he was born into. It's an incredibly well-written book, one that (as a therapist) I found myself fascinated by, as a majority of the time the main character is being evaluated and assessed by a running list of different emergency on-call mental health workers. He knows them, he knows their tactics, tendencies, rules, and approaches, and he stays miles ahead of them by tweaking his affect (i.e. expressions, hand movements) and words to fit the mold of whatever person it is that he knows these interviewers need to see in order to release him. There's a ridiculous amount of dead-on psychological jargon, understanding, and explanation, some of it shaming to my profession and some of it speaking to the desperation we therapists have in a field wherein most of what we do seems to be slapping homemade bandages, two sizes too small, on gaping wounds two sizes too big. Clevenger has done his homework, and it shows.
There's a gritty, addicting reality to this character and this book. I found myself coming back to it often because I found myself really needing to know what we going to happen to him next, how he would deal with it, what he would realize about himself or another person, and just how (with the linguistic equivalent of a physician's delicate scalpel) the author would crushingly communicate it to me. It's a dark book, full of many unsavory characters and even more unsavory situations, but I have no doubt that it communicates (and quite effectively so) a haunting reality that many people experience every day. Reading about the main character's family and roots, I couldn't help seeing so many of the kids I work with in his descriptions, his father, mother, and sister, and what he went through (and continues to).
For some reason, I felt throughout this book that I was reading the modern equivalent of 'The Catcher in the Rye'. It's altogether different, but one can't help but wonder if John Dolan Vincent and Holden Caulfield aren't in fact attached in some Siamese way, limbs interwined and shared through some hole punched in space and time, their stumbling footsteps echoing one another's as they attempt to grasp hold of something real, beautiful, and true in a world that doesn't often seem to feature any of those attributes on a regular basis.
Chuck Palahniuk, author of 'Fight Club' and 'Choke", is quotes as saying, 'I swear to God that this is the best book I have read in easily five years. Easily. Maybe ten years.' I get what he's saying, even if I can't quite (being hopeful and more optimistic than pessimistic) readily agree with him. It's a real book, and it's painful and touchable and terrifying all in the same moment.
Recommended.
February 17, 2008
an excellent read. the contortionist's handbook was about John Dolan Vincent; a drug addict, a mathematical genius, a man in love, and an unbelievably gifted forger who creates new identites for himself to avoid getting incarcerated. many reviewers have compared craig clevenger's writing style to chuck palahniuk's; i didn't really see it. i mean, sure, it's just as edgy, stylized, and twisted as palahniuk's library, but i must say ...clevenger's writing techniques were like a breath of fresh air for me. from the descriptions of his gruesome OD's to his affair with the love of his life, his display of words and detailed descriptions were inventive and compelling, metaphorically, which actually came off rather poetic at many moments. in fact, i'm very much looking forward to a second read, particularly for those very details and favored moments, but that won't be for a long while.
well, who isn't trying to write like palahniuk these days anyway? it's just too easy to go that route, and i refuse to be a part of it. :)
around the time when he revealed his childhood past as a delinquent (mid-book), i grew very uninterested. it was a much needed break from all the suspense in the beginning chapters, but...something about it just made me not care a whole lot. perhaps that was my fault. and it probably shouldn't be revealed, as i don't want to give anything away. but the "suspense" immediately revived itself as the last quarter of the book came to be.
pretty fucking impressive, in all.
well, who isn't trying to write like palahniuk these days anyway? it's just too easy to go that route, and i refuse to be a part of it. :)
around the time when he revealed his childhood past as a delinquent (mid-book), i grew very uninterested. it was a much needed break from all the suspense in the beginning chapters, but...something about it just made me not care a whole lot. perhaps that was my fault. and it probably shouldn't be revealed, as i don't want to give anything away. but the "suspense" immediately revived itself as the last quarter of the book came to be.
pretty fucking impressive, in all.
January 23, 2009
This is one book that you certainly cannot judge by its cover, although it certainly piqued my interest. You don't really know what to expect when you see "A Contortionists Handbook" followed by a sepia-toned picture of a man bending his legs at the knees at right angles from the rest of his body, followed by a hearty endorsement from none other than Chuck Palahniuk, all on the front cover. (Throwing in a note about the author Craig Clevenger being a Cal State Long Beach alum on the reverse side of the book only cemented the deal for me...I had to read this book.)
I don't see the comparison to Palahniuk alluded to by many in this forum; Clevenger's voice is uniquely his own. The "contortionist" in question relates his story of having to change his identity several times in order to survive migraines and overdoses, and his account at first is somewhat difficult to follow. Like peeling the layers of an onion, we learn the protagonist's m.o. chapter by chapter, and by the end we are left with an indelible portrait of this man.
Clevenger, a Southern California dude through and through, inserts many Los Angeles-centric locations throughout his narrative that add realism, particularly if the reader is from LA (although he doesn't have to be to enjoy this book). Overall, I was quite impressed with "The Contortionist's Handbook", and look forward to reading more from Clevenger.
I don't see the comparison to Palahniuk alluded to by many in this forum; Clevenger's voice is uniquely his own. The "contortionist" in question relates his story of having to change his identity several times in order to survive migraines and overdoses, and his account at first is somewhat difficult to follow. Like peeling the layers of an onion, we learn the protagonist's m.o. chapter by chapter, and by the end we are left with an indelible portrait of this man.
Clevenger, a Southern California dude through and through, inserts many Los Angeles-centric locations throughout his narrative that add realism, particularly if the reader is from LA (although he doesn't have to be to enjoy this book). Overall, I was quite impressed with "The Contortionist's Handbook", and look forward to reading more from Clevenger.
March 14, 2013
Don't get me wrong, this is a thoroughly enjoyable book. But, given the lavish praise from the pantheon of twisted, dark literature -- Chuck Palahniuk and Irvine Welsh -- I expected it would blow my mind. That didn't quite happen.
Written as memoir that ping-pongs between the present and the past, the book focuses on John Dolan Vincent, a polydactyl, forger and spacial math brainiac, whose tendency to self-medicate his debilitating "godsplitter" headaches always keep him one step away from winding up in the looney bin because some below-average psychiatric evaluator deems him too suicidal for his own good. To avoid such a fate, he must constantly assume new identities, so there is no ability to connect his hospital records.
Like Palahniuk, the author Craig Clevenger does an amazing job of detailing a world most of us don't think much about; in this case, identification forgery. He also channels Ken Kesey and provides a scathing, yet humorous, critique of psychiatric medicine and the automaton behavior of those who inhabit those hospital halls.
But, for some reason, though all the component were right, and I could trace dependencies to many of my favorite authors, the novel never came perfectly together. The rhythm was stacatto, the multiple love interests were a tad incredible, and my interest in the main character waxed after a while.
Again, it's a fun read...but it might be time to dial down the adulation just a tad.
(P.S. If you're looking for a great novel featuring another polydactyl, check out "Twelve Fingers" by Jo Soares. What a super read!)
Written as memoir that ping-pongs between the present and the past, the book focuses on John Dolan Vincent, a polydactyl, forger and spacial math brainiac, whose tendency to self-medicate his debilitating "godsplitter" headaches always keep him one step away from winding up in the looney bin because some below-average psychiatric evaluator deems him too suicidal for his own good. To avoid such a fate, he must constantly assume new identities, so there is no ability to connect his hospital records.
Like Palahniuk, the author Craig Clevenger does an amazing job of detailing a world most of us don't think much about; in this case, identification forgery. He also channels Ken Kesey and provides a scathing, yet humorous, critique of psychiatric medicine and the automaton behavior of those who inhabit those hospital halls.
But, for some reason, though all the component were right, and I could trace dependencies to many of my favorite authors, the novel never came perfectly together. The rhythm was stacatto, the multiple love interests were a tad incredible, and my interest in the main character waxed after a while.
Again, it's a fun read...but it might be time to dial down the adulation just a tad.
(P.S. If you're looking for a great novel featuring another polydactyl, check out "Twelve Fingers" by Jo Soares. What a super read!)
November 16, 2014
Very interesting book. John Vincent isn't a contortionist in a traditional i.e. jacket photo way, but he does contort himself inside different identities every 6 months or so. This book is really more of a identity thief/forger handbook and the author goes into frightening amount of detail on the subject. It's the sort of book I wasn't sure I liked very much until the very end and then it became apparent that this story is genuinely different and the character is thoroughly original, things I highly value in fiction. Turns out identity unstable, polydactyl addicts with photographic memory make for strangely compelling protagonists. Clevenger seems to be the opposite of prolific with just two published novels, which is a shame, because there is definitely evidence of talent here, sort of a neonoir visceral authenticity. Recommended.
October 12, 2009
Craig Clevenger could have let the reader in a little sooner. You know, trusted us just a little bit more. And I'm not going to spoil it for anybody, but a little more meat at the end as well would have helped - but hell man, The Contortionist's Handbook absolutely kills. A minute into it I was caught up and I never let go.
A really good friend told me to read this book, he even loaned me his signed copy. He said, "read this, you'll love it." He was right.
A really good friend told me to read this book, he even loaned me his signed copy. He said, "read this, you'll love it." He was right.
January 22, 2020
It had been about 10 years since I read this book and I'd been meaning to re-read it for awhile. Craig Clevenger's writing is crisp and powerful. His characters are full of depth and practicality jump off the page. I feel like Clevenger's one of the best modern writers out there, and The Contortionists Handbook is one well written and entertaining read.
February 24, 2020
هرگونه صحبت از این کتاب موجب اسپویل میشه بنظرم
June 16, 2021
Thought I'd give it a 4. Felt too guilty.
September 20, 2013
The Contortionist's Handbook is one of those books that just hooks you in from the very beginning and carries you on a weird and wonderful journey. The protagonist, John, is a typical down and out type from an outsider's point of view. He's someone you're naturally wired to hate, but through his charisma and intelligence, you just can't help but love him. The phrase 'own worst enemy' immediately springs to mind.
John's a master forger who can perfectly fake just about anything, which comes in handy for his other past time of being a drug addict (thinly veiled under the guise of someone who experiences 'godsplitting' headaches and then self-medicates to the point of regular overdose). Due to his appreciation for narcotics, he finds himself in and out of hospitals and uses his talented skills to knock up a brand new identity for himself each time to prevent the men in white coats trying to lock him up.
It's enthralling and a perfect piece of escapism, as you wonder if the authorities will ever catch up with John (or whatever his name is that week). While the ending was a little weak IMO, the intelligent, witty prose and clever one liners completely won me over to make this a 5/5.
John's a master forger who can perfectly fake just about anything, which comes in handy for his other past time of being a drug addict (thinly veiled under the guise of someone who experiences 'godsplitting' headaches and then self-medicates to the point of regular overdose). Due to his appreciation for narcotics, he finds himself in and out of hospitals and uses his talented skills to knock up a brand new identity for himself each time to prevent the men in white coats trying to lock him up.
It's enthralling and a perfect piece of escapism, as you wonder if the authorities will ever catch up with John (or whatever his name is that week). While the ending was a little weak IMO, the intelligent, witty prose and clever one liners completely won me over to make this a 5/5.
December 6, 2008
This was a quick read on an airplane ride. It more than met my expectations for that situation. While I am no expert on either forged identities or psychiatric evals the jargon used and the details provided sounded believable (white taurus anonimity, lol). The drinking and drug abuse described would probably render the protagonist more like the homeless kid whose identity he buys (Stove) than the superhuman flawed genius that narrates the story.
Some beautiful writing I particularly liked the sex scene around p100 specially since I had just read some award winning bad sex scenes (eg "soft as a coil of excrement" Norman Mailer's description of a penis!)
So I thought "felt the whisper of God deep within my bones" was inspired.
The dissertation about fighting v talking about ass-kicking (p126) rang true.
I enjoyed throw away images like that of neighbor Brett walking straight lines on the imaginary lawn, an unnecessary but lovely detail, or the "extra finger does miracles for grip" comment, or the business concern metaphor employed by the Big Boss.
Didn't care for the ending though.
Some beautiful writing I particularly liked the sex scene around p100 specially since I had just read some award winning bad sex scenes (eg "soft as a coil of excrement" Norman Mailer's description of a penis!)
So I thought "felt the whisper of God deep within my bones" was inspired.
The dissertation about fighting v talking about ass-kicking (p126) rang true.
I enjoyed throw away images like that of neighbor Brett walking straight lines on the imaginary lawn, an unnecessary but lovely detail, or the "extra finger does miracles for grip" comment, or the business concern metaphor employed by the Big Boss.
Didn't care for the ending though.
October 15, 2020
Best book I’ve read in a long time. The ending was *chef’s kiss*.
I was captivated by the love story that gave some dimension to a man who felt he had none. Johnny and Keara were both so fluid but always anchored to each other. I was honestly surprised by the ending, wondering if pages had been torn from my copy.
Anyway, it was a short read but challenging enough that I had to take my time with it. It kept me on my toes and made me think. There was great attention to detail and you could tell the author wrote each word with great care.
Loved it, definitely recommend.
I was captivated by the love story that gave some dimension to a man who felt he had none. Johnny and Keara were both so fluid but always anchored to each other. I was honestly surprised by the ending, wondering if pages had been torn from my copy.
Anyway, it was a short read but challenging enough that I had to take my time with it. It kept me on my toes and made me think. There was great attention to detail and you could tell the author wrote each word with great care.
Loved it, definitely recommend.
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