A hallucinatory exploration into the origins of humans and human language perfect for fans of Brian Evenson and Eimear McBride.
Lucy, a young woman with an uncertain past, finds herself thrust into a mysterious anthropology museum that converts into a disco club each night. Moving through its labyrinthine galleries, she tries to construct an origin story for herself and for her species. But as the night progresses, her grip on language and identity slips away until the exhibit captions rupture the text, transporting us to East Africa, where the lives of three people—British anthropologist Mary Leakey, an Indian indentured laborer building the Uganda Railway, and a curator with too many secrets—interweave to reveal the darker side of the search for origins.
Surreal, spiraling, and daringly innovative, Habilis is all at once a historical reconstruction, a psychological horror, a mystery, a ghost story, and a creation myth. But above all, it is a meditation on language, desire, and the stories we tell about ourselves—especially those that might unravel us.
I’m giving up on this book at 50% – my first dnf this year. I have a ton of other titles on my list and I’d rather save the time for them.
Habilis consists of super short chapters of usually a page or two which aren’t really coherent. Thematically they rotate between scenes from a club in which protagonist Lucy parties hard and anthropological and linguistic commentaries.
I’m not really enjoying this, maybe might give it a second try some other time.
Lyrical. In the hands of a less skilled writer, I'd have found this pretentious verging on irritating, but Quinn is so poetic about scientific research that the book is both sincere and impressive. Upon reflection, Lucy's upbringing is too obviously artificially assembled to make the point about early humans and our origins -- I think Habilis is better viewed as a formal prose poem than a novel. I would expect a novel to be more credible/convincing in character design and more subtle in its symbolism. But a great poem confronts emotions and themes directly, with an open heart and confidence of expression.
The philosophical questions explored here aren't that compelling to me (I believe in scientific discovery but archeology's guesswork about our origins isn't more impressive than religion or myth and neither are Quinn's conclusions) but I respect her awe of the discipline combined with her willingness to lay bare the casual cruelty of its founding, dependent on eugenics and British colonial exploitation. The Leakey/Saleem narrative should feel clunky and obvious, an anti-colonialist sermon, but Quinn is successful again on the strength of her ability to turn a phrase and generate a powerful image. I missed the good parts of undergrad while reading this.
Truly evocative and eloquent. I look forward to reading more of her long-form poetry.
So beautifully layered between museum captions and fiction, Lucy's journey to try and grapple with her own very confused past and that of humanity as whole was mesmerizing and at times a little terrifying. The following of language and what defines language, as one is starting to lose their grasp on it and in turn their way of defining themselves was haunting, and at times profound in Quinn's observations of human history. It's a book that I'll be re-reading a lot I think, if only just to see OH-7 get back to their mother again.
This book was incredible, and the only thing that kept it from a fifth star is the long bits of straightforward narrative about the life of Mary Leakey, which I understood the need for, but which were the least compelling parts of the book for me personally.
Reading “Habilis” felt a bit like watching a very good OP production of a Shakespeare play, where there are so many gossamer layers of meaning and narrative stacked on top of each other that you often can’t tell whether you’re watching an actor or a character or a character disguised as another character or a story within a story within a story.
Alyssa Quinn manages to write intellectual prose about anthropology and linguistics that somehow manages to hit like a letter that your mom died and not like a textbook.
Hallucinogenic, intelligent, meta, weird, experimental while remaining entertaining, I loved this book.
i don’t know how to rate this. starts off profoundly beautiful, so much so that i was scared to keep reading for fear that the rest couldn’t measure up. and then (semi) suddenly it shifted and became profoundly upsetting. not in a way that suggests bad writing, but in a way that grapples with historical fact and the horrors of the stories we tell. i read the last 40 pages out loud to myself, tears frequently meeting my face. grateful, sad, trepidatious, etc.
Habilis was like poetry…compact language, layered meanings, astute observations, and a perspective on the world that is original and fresh. And, like poetry, I’m definitely going to need to read it more than once to glean all the depth of meaning!
This book is unlike anything I've read in a while, in the best way. Quinn's prose is a treat to read. In a book as nonlinear and surreal as Habilis, her vivid imagery and sturdy voice was sometimes the only thing that grounded me. I struggle with books I think would be better on re-read, and Habilis is certainly a book that benefits from multiple readings. Nevertheless, I got a lot out of this on first pass. This book is short but dense, and took me longer to get through than a typical book of its length, but that's because Quinn stuffs so much into so few pages. The multi-faceted exploration of human anthropology was fascinating to read and accessible, as someone who never really studied this subject. A magical and unique book. I'm looking forward to Alyssa Quinn's next book.
Amazing read! Habilis is a beautiful balance between non-fiction museum wall text, a fictional story with characters you can’t help but relate to, and historical fiction that sends you back in time. I never knew I could learn AND feel so much within 200 pages.
actually quite boring and the blurb on the back just wasn’t that similar to the book? like it sounded like it was going to be night at the museum vibes and it simply was not. so not only was I deceived to begin with, but I felt like it was trying to be deep but was honestly poorly written and just left me confused. yes, this could be my fault but idk I didn’t like it
I think it would be a great book to add to an Anthropologist theory class, as a break from the dry texts. A very interesting walk through archaeological, linguistic theory. Abstract and thought provoking.
4.5 ⭐️ "Lucy thinks: no--the oldest parts of us are not the truest. They are just the oldest."
If I had kept in touch with her, I would have liked to recommend this book to my college biology professor, who taught me so enthusiastically about evolution and marine biology; about natural selection and fossils and the precarious future of the ocean.
Since I can't give Dr. Soper "Habilis," I hope I can encourage you to read it: Quinn does something wholly original, strange, uncomfortable, and striking in this not-novel, this wild collection of scattered moments, real and unreal. I am not entirely sure how I would summarize such a book, except to say exactly what one discovers in the first few pages: it's like being in a museum converted into a disco. Or like being in a train station, or on an open plain alone and not alone. Or like none of that at all.
More like 3.5 stars, and primarily for the loveliness of the prose and the imagery.
But as a whole, it was sort of like 2 different books smushed together, both is style and story. And I wanted more of the feverish, entertainingly disjointed, suspenseful first part. Less of the history, chronologically disjointed, quasi-biographical second part. It was also difficult to follow who was narrating and from when…
Still, I enjoyed it for the story concept and writing style in that first part, the themes of language and identity, and for a truly cool looking cover.
I was shocked by how this book was able to capture me as I continued to read. The hallucinatory storytelling and contemplations of life, death, evolution, and how it is all happening around us at once felt true to thoughts i’ve had myself.
I love the constant bouncing back and forth between seemingly separate stories over time that all become connected. It all matters in this novel. “nothing that is is unconnected” Human tendency to search for what fills the absence. Suffering. Grief. “The severe effects of passage of time.”
“What did the lions mean to him? He cannot decide. They refuse to resolve Into symbols.”
History refusing to resolve into symbols for us to understand, you can’t predict the future its doesn’t exist but the past does, it exists in the ways that we make it exist. So who are we?
Can you point at something that isn’t there? Isn’t that exactly what classification and language is, and is that the thing that makes history the “written Word”
****coming back to finalize this review after I sit with the text a bit more*
“The oldest parts of us are not the truest. They are just the oldest.”
A thoroughly creative and hypnotic tale of human history and language broken into the plaques from museum exhibits no one ever reads. You’ve definitely got to meet this book on its own terms, but if you do, boy is it breathtaking.
This was alright; quite interesting in its thematic mix, but it did feel a bit derivative of recent archival/poetry/non-fiction stylistic combinations - think of Recyclopaedia, or Zong. That being said, I'm looking forward to seeing the author further develop their voice, and may very well be reading along. :)
dreamlike and immersive, an odd story in a museum-turned-discotheque. a meditation on language and the ways it formed, or might have formed, and the ways that the process of its discovery fails - in attempting to construct something where nothing existed before, in exploiting and colonizing in service of a dream.
Amazing book overall. Takes on so many nuanced issues in a way I have never experienced. It is a text that forces you to analyze your definition of humanity, culture, and self. It is a book I found hard to put down and always wanting to discuss.
There are passages of aching beauty and brilliance, and enough anthropological history to keep my interest, but I was just so confused and lost by the primary characters story that it made my interest wane.
What a weird and wild book that really struck me deep in my SOUL. I'm not a book annotator but if I was, this book would absolutely bursting with notes and feelings
The many layers and stories within each other end up working surprisingly well, instead of continually clashing, as it would be easy to do. The fragments build a drawn out feeling, and an aspect of poetry ties it back into real life.