Wow, just wow. I shouldn't even be reviewing this now, I have a queue of books I haven't reviewed yet and instead I'm writing about one I just finished and I don't have anything to say except Wow. All I know is that it is worth capturing this feeling before I fades and I have to try to write something very analytical about a head trip of a book.
So I read quite a few reviews before I read this, and most of the descriptions led me to very different expectations. The book fizzes like soda water fizzes - it's bright and bubbly. Monk feels and experiences her world more than she analyses it (its a matter of degree) and the book bounces with her through a barrage of analogies and visceral descriptions. But it also has a clear narrative and story - the rising tension in the latter part of the book is a driver to get through in the best tradition of plot-driven suspense.
I wouldn't describe it as violent. While it can be very visceral, this is less so around the isolated incidents of violence which serve the plot. I am pretty squeamish around violence in books, and this was tamer than Jane Harper.
The book is set in Melbourne. I mean, it is never mentioned by name. And it is Monk's Melbourne. It could be a standin for any multicultural city with a Chinatown, and a Big Brother TV show and an intense arts scene. But Monk's experience is specific, not generic. And if all that seems confusing, well, it is in the best, most fun, way.
The writing is outstanding.
*the rest of this review is not plot spoilery, but part of the joy of the book is how surprising it is. So if you are convinced, go read the book, and come back when you have :) *
Lau structures her sentences so the verb is almost always the second word, getting straight to the point with no mucking about. Sentences are short, chapters are short - hell, the book is short. Not a word is wasted. But within this terseness is a remarkable non linearity. Monk makes sense of her world through a lens of cultural references and experiences: "Everything is a step-by-step exercise machine guide for my dad. Or recipes from the cooking channel. Otherwise he will not listen. He smiles."
The technique works on so very many levels. It enables the audience to deeply engage with Monk, to understand her inner world. So many teenage protagonists feel older or younger. Monk never feels like she has a stable grip on what is going on around her. She is profoundly lost, in an almost dystopian way, alone and under threat from the failures of the adults, which in turn have been failed by the world. Her voice feels so true to a fifteen-year-old it almost hurts.
The technique also allows Lau to loop references around and back. The Pink Mountain of the title evokes the brain, and a half eaten pizza. Both real, both ways of looking at things. The same images occur and recur through the book. When I finished, I started reading passages again, looking at things with a different light based on later reading, and just changes in mood and my own receptivity. What felt like throwaway viscerality first time through has extra meaning later.
A third way it works is the understanding of a different generational experience. The litter of cultural references feels specific to a Wikipedia, information-rich world. Monk is scattered, connected to the world and a huge number of cultural references, but also feels very ungrounded. Her father is a devotee of Basquiat, an artist whose work is so located in a community and deep tradition. It felt like a contrast throughout the book to this fragmented world.
There is a savage critique of society here, but it isn't one without hope. Nor is it disrespectful or hankering for a past. The strengths of global culture, of informed teenagers, even of nature shows, is as showcased as the materialism and disposability. In the end, it is the story of one person and the world through her eyes, just a perfect part of a kaleidoscope world.
*2019 reading challenge #3. A book written by a musician*