Corvus has always had an overactive imagination. Growing up, she develops a unique coping mechanism: she can imagine herself out of any situation, no matter how terrible. To get through each day, Corvus escapes into scenes from fantasy novels, pop songs, and action/adventure movies, and survives by turning the everyday into just another role to play in the movie of her life.
After a tragic loss, Corvus finds a sadness so great she cannot imagine it away. Instead, she finds Tim, a pornographer with unconventional methods, who offers her a new way to escape into movies. But when a sinister plot of greed and betrayal is revealed, Corvus must fight to reclaim her independence, and discovers she is stronger than even she could have imagined.
Written in Richard Chiem’s singular style, this debut novel is equal parts sledgehammer and sweet song, a neon, pulsing portrait of grief. King of Joy tells the triumphant, electrifying story of one woman’s quest for survival against all odds, and serves as a reminder that resilience can be found even in our most hopeless moments.
BIO: Richard Chiem is the author of You Private Person (Sorry House Classics, 2017) and the novel King of Joy (Soft Skull Press, 2019). His work has been published in City Arts Magazine, Vol. 1 Brooklyn, Fanzine, 3:AM Magazine, and Moss Magazine, among many other places. His book You Private Person was named one of Publishers Weekly's 10 Essential Books of the American West. He lives in Seattle w/ his partner.
You ever start a book after reading the synopsis and think, I will be surprised if I like this? When Soft Skull Press reached out and asked if I'd like a copy, and then briefed me on the plot, my eyes hesitated on the words "evil pornographer." I'm pretty sure I'm not the right reader for a book with any sort of pornographic setting. ...Or am I?
KING OF JOY is much, much more than the synopsis could ever hope to encapsulate. For a small book, there's a lot to meditate on, and Corvus, our protagonist—our heroine!—is a great character to embark on this journey of rumination and suspense. There were elements to Corvus that I was surprised to find I related to: her introversion, attachment to an extroverted friend, and how she spaces out. Growing up in the military, I feel trained in being able to stare out the window and think for long, long (cross-country, even) periods of time. A transportation of another sort. Corvus allows us to follow her into her memories, the weird people and places she encounters, and the glimpses of happiness through her despairing grief.
Chiem's writing is atmospheric, eloquent, and loves to slowly reveal the place and action. There was probably a moment or two where my mouth was agape while reading because I was trying to figure out what sinister creature was lying in wait—animal or human or... ? And while it's mesmerizing and thoughtful, it's FUNNY, too. There's something Chiem gets perfectly about the central friendship; especially when a Robyn song comes over the car radio.
So yes, I was surprised that I fell so in love with this book. I was surprised that the dreamy writing and character exploration also gave way to a tension-filled plot. And I was surprised that there were moments to laugh amid all the grieving. Thanks Soft Skull PRess for thinking of me and sending me a copy! The book comes out today, 3/5, friends, and you should probably pick it up if you want something trippy, quick to read, and oddly magnetic!
"It's scary to see you made it through a night you don't remember. The feeling is like eyeing a speeding car rush past you, missing you by an inch or a second."
Corvus has nothing left to lose. Her mind is a miasma of sharp objects, of painful memories so profound it renders her numb to the world around her. Everyone and everything she’s ever loved is dead and gone, and one can’t help but bow in sadness at all the ways life has turned its back on her. Yet, we hold out hope that the storm of Corvus’ life will make way for a silver lining — tomorrow, today, right now.
In Richard Chiem’s debut novel King of Joy, a book always on the brink of a breakdown, grief is a tide that cannot draw back its weight. It is the restless sting of a suicide letter from your beloved; the final yowl of the house pet; the claustrophobic grip of a room gone cold and silent — it is the thing that whispers us to the precipice, one foot over the deep end.
We first meet Corvus on the edge of suffering, freshly wounded by some undisclosed trauma, lingering to the closest asylum within reach: in a den of other damaged girls like herself, under the sadistic rulership of a pornographer with mommy issues. Stoked by the arbitrary blare of familiar pop songs and the blowing wind against her face, with the help of her blissfully deranged ally Amber, Corvus may have fled her captor, for now, but she cannot shift the shadows of her past. Finally, as King of Joy reveals a hidden chapter of her life, we come to learn more about the anxiety keeping Corvus up at night: she was in love with a boy who, bandaged by failure and shame, succumbed to the same darkness she has been trying to parry her entire life.
From there, the story unfolds like a fever dream — one of hippos, pornographers, morbid humor, and strange love — that doesn’t appear like a cure for anxiety at first, but if you survive the glum and genius of Chiem’s acuity, I promise you a ray of light at the end of the tunnel.
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King of Joy isn’t exactly the novel your High School English teacher asked you to read. It’s not written necessarily in a linear fashion. At times, it’s more dreamlike prose than novel. There’s a lot of free form stream of consciousness. But, what you get is an intense character study of a young girl from her teenage years in a broken home to her married years to her descent to drugs and porn and an enchanted island surrounded by hippos.
King of Joy is a story written in such blank, affectless prose that it comes as a surprise to end up caring so much for the characters. But porn star Corvus indeed commands our respect, she's just found a way to use pop culture to deal with her grief and isolation. These feelings still have to be dealt with even as events swim further out into the hippo-populated waters of a dream.
This is quite a novel. A meditation on grief, emotional and physical connection, and the ways we cope when that thread is severed, while at the same time managing to be quite humorous and wildly absurd.
The novel is told in a fever-dream style, lacking punctuation for dialogue and telling the second half of the story before the first half. Every stylistic choice Chiem makes in this work only serves to emphasize dramatic and emotional pulse of the climax—and you’re going to feel it. A gut punch, to be sure. One you don’t see coming at the same time that it is as obvious as a freight train.
A self-destructive heroine who shines brightly in her secret interior life, Corvus (meaning “raven” in Latin), the reader can’t help but to feel pulled into the orbit of her strange magnetic chaos in this story.
This book toes the line between realism and absurdism. It reminded me of Chuck Palahniuk in the style and sense that the characters live in this world of topsy-turvy pandemonium and find it fairly normal—all that tumult is just background noise to their own specific and absurd issue.
I truly loved every second and highly recommend this one.
My thanks to Soft Skull Press for sending this one my way to read and review.
I love the strange, subtly cinematic arc of the story. The way it unfolds and comes together was clever, sometimes disorienting. Reminded me of Dennis Cooper at times--that sort of calm, out-of-body terror. Sometimes when I take a book on the bus, I ignore it for easier distractions, like looking at my phone or out the window. But I couldn't wait to open up King of Joy every day before and after work. I also want to thank this book for reminding me about Death Grips. This book is kind of like a Death Grips song.
The stubbornly quiet prose is very attractive, as the protagonist wanders calmly (?) through intriguing and sometimes tense scenarios. I'm not a fan of the action-packed ending unfortunately. (But did it really happen?)
I finished this an hour ago and maybe have started to collect my thoughts--really all I've been doing since it ended. There is so much here. It's a small book, but it has so much. I love it. I recommend it to anyone with tastes left of the mainstream, but as much as it's concerned with drugs & sex & Death Grips, King of Joy is deeply empathetic and secretly so warm-hearted it never comes off as a style piece. It's like if Brett Easton Ellis spent his youth meditating and taking mushrooms instead stealing his friends' coke. Or a version of Jesus' Son directed by Terrence Malick.
Stray thoughts: - The female characters are in much sharper focus, and more sympathetic than the male characters. That they're drawn so convincingly is a rare feat for a male author. - So many feels in this book, and for the most part they feel earned. - The story moves naturally and with its own logic, like underwater currents. - I am totally rooting for Corvus. - Chiem uses narrative whitespace so well; such large lives are suggested with such swift sentences. - Gained a new appreciation for hippos. - Also, pit bulls.
WTF even is this book? The beginning of the book, set in a pornography commune, was strange enough. But when our protagonist and her friend escape only to seek solace at a rival pornographer’s mansion complete with a moat filled with hippos, it began to stretch credulity. The moment the hippos showed up and were revealed to be real and not some drug-fueled fever dream, you just knew someone was going to get eaten by one.
The Perry Corvus interlude was my favorite part of the book. But that ended abruptly and ruinously.
The final third/quarter was insane. Original pornographer and rival pornographer conspire to trap our mains in electrified cages, only for the first pornographer to betray the second and re-kidnap our pros. Their escape by boat and the kidnapper’s inevitable demise at the mouth of a hippo reeks of deus ex machina. And I think I didn’t like this book that much.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
From one of the most exciting and risk-taking new literary voices, Richard Chiem’s debut novel KING OF JOY is the triumphant, electrifying story of one woman’s quest for survival against all odds, told in the author’s inimitable prose style. Coming in March 2019!
An Very Enthralling Read! • This is the kind of book I'm always longing to read. With characters that are so achingly real and human. And a story that grabs you and you dont want to let go. In this short novel Richard Chiem has achieved something remarkable! Corvus's character is so excellently done. From her melancholy and haunting past we get to see her fight for her future. I loved every minute of reading this book. I really didnt want it to end. Chiem has a way with language that is seductive, brilliant and beautiful. I will be thinking about this book for a long while and waiting for whatever he does next. • THANK YOU the the Publisher for sending me this ARC • For more of my book content check out instagram.com/bookalong
I don't know what universe Richard's characters live in where trees burn without letting the fire spread and dog packs move like schools of fish, but I was thrilled to be there for Corvus' nightmare fever-dream of a journey to her own kind of salvation.
”The bed – their old bed – is this deep, precious space, the only thing she wants. She listens to whatever tape recordings she has of Perry, never changing her clothes, never wanting to leave the small comfort of their old sheets, her few yards of sanctuary.”
Another odd book that I would never have found without the Tournament of Books. This was a hard read for me and there were several times that I was very glad that Chiem only wrote 192 pages. The first and third sections of the novel revolved around the world of pornography movies. I never had any real interest in this industry and these sections didn’t make me want to know any more,
I liked the second section because it was straightforward. It was the only part of the book that I could really buy into. The other two sections were like fever dreams. I mean who keeps a pond full of hippos? I’m supposed to believe in their actual existence?
Although this novel will never go on my list of favorite books, I was somewhat delighted to find that Chiem referenced one of my favorite Dan Savage quotations. (https://topatoco.com/collections/sava...) I assume that the quote has moved into general knowledge, but Savage was the first person I heard say it.
Did not know what to expect going into this book but was so into it from the first page! Feels fantastical and realistic at the same time! Very much enjoyed King of Joy!
I enjoyed this book a lot! Richard Chiem has a unique approach to language, detail, humor, and pop culture that places this book just to the left of realism, which is one of my favorite places for a book to live. That being said, the structure didn't quite gel for me and characters in a persistently drug-addled state are just a smidge less compelling to me as a reader than I'd like.
Would recommend to some people—will definitely seek out his other novel.
This book had me mesmerized. It's very short and would be perfect to read in one sitting, but it's also kind of bleak. The jumps around in time kept it from getting too depressing, and it was over before I knew it with an ending that felt like a dream. Finished it last night and still thinking about it. If you like your summertime/beach reads a bit unpredictable, dark, and unsettling, I would absolutely recommend this one!
I honestly wasn't sure what I would think of this book after winning an ARC copy, but I ended up falling in love with Chiem's writing style. Such a beautifully told story!
What’s so amazing about this book is how it so perfectly describes the sadness that you sometimes can’t describe and the one thing you think sets you apart from everyone else. I found it remarkable
This was a strange read and not something I’d recommend to most readers, honestly. It bordered on being something too twee for me, or too try-hard. Felt like the book form of an A24 movie.
Themes of grief and trauma throughout. The connections we make or fail to make in the midst of that. Failures to communicate. Exploitation of trauma. But with a very surreal porn horror/thriller (??) threaded in.
I enjoyed the timeline going back and forth. Michelle - ouch. Pretzel - ouch.
The most I do is drink a hard cider, so I find the drug use, drinking, partying difficult to connect to. I’m not even quite sure if this story is a critique of any that - perhaps just in the abuse of it as a way to medicate/hide emotional pain, though by no means does the story read as judgmental when characters do that.
I’m not sure I felt like the story had enough introspection in it for me to /love/ it, but I appreciated how fresh and weird this was, at least for me.
Ultra-weird, Pulp Fiction-esque book about loss and depression set against the backdrop of late 90's/early 2000's porn culture. That sounds more titillating than it actually is - there's no actual sex on the page in the entire book.... it could have been set anywhere really. Regardless, I'll be paying attention to whatever this author does next.
Corvus, the heroine of Richard Chiem's King of Joy, moves in a grief-fog that I recognize intimately. The last sentence of the book reveals that Chiem somehow knows what it feels like when the fog begins to shift. Like his previous book, You Private Person, this novel is evidence of a writer paying attention to moments of feeling that may be nearly imperceptible, despite their significance.
Do you know that feeling? Someone you know surprises you. That feeling when someone you know—and it’s someone you’re not particularly close to, this isn’t your best friend, just an acquaintance—they shock you. They take you by complete surprise. They say something so true and so poignant about you, it’s a sledgehammer. It wakes you up. And it’s just a small thing, dear, whatever they say, it’s just some small detail about you. How you laugh, a mannerism, a tell, they translate your body language back to you. And it doesn’t matter what they say really, it’s more the fact they noticed, this more or less stranger has been watching you and admiring you. They were watching you this whole time and you were unaware. This suddenly beautiful stranger.
I was very much on the fence about the rating for this one, and if you ask me later, I might give it a 3.5-plus. Chiem's writing style itself is beautiful and dreamlike, a refreshing departure from more traditional works of fiction. His depictions of grief, especially in the second part of this novel, are visceral, heartbreaking, and lyrical. His characters are quirky and interesting.
There was never a point in which I found myself disengaged, but I simply wanted more. I also had some issues with the plot and pacing, but overall, I liked this book and would be interested in checking out more from this author.