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hector
This is a love letter to the exploited & oppressed, beaten, downtrodden and abused. This is an open declaration of hate to people who may or may not be you.
136 pages, Paperback
First published November 19, 2009
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235 people want to read
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Displaying 1 - 22 of 22 reviews
May 14, 2020
i don't think i will ever read finnegan's wake. when i was fifteen or so, i went on a trip to england, and i was reading the bell jar on the plane and throughout the trip. it was a fun trip, one that boosted my confidence and independence in a variety of ways, and when it was time to go, i was wandering around the airport, with a bit of leftover english currency in my pocket, and i saw finnegan's wake in the airport bookstore (which i doubt they sell in american airports, i'm just going to mention here). cocky after my recent adventures, i thought to myself -sure, esther-bell-jar doesn't understand this book, but i bet i will! i am the cleverest of all fifteen-year-old girls!!
turns out i am not, and it was a perplexing plane ride home. (why is there musical notation???, is this even a word?????)
when i was a senior, i had a teacher who was discussing the book (but not making us read it), who gave us some advice. he said to just treat it like what it was on the first go-round. just read it like a dream and power through and let it all wash over you, and do not slow down and do not stop to question it. i never returned to finnegan's wake - i like dubliners and portrait, but i can't be bothered with the big ones yet. i don't mind being intellectually challenged (although my recent school-related readings would seem to suggest otherwise) but i do not like being intellectually mocked. stuff it, joyce, i say (for now)
but so all of the above was just to say i think the "power through" method is appropriate here, for this book. i want to respect the author's decision, like chris cleave's on little bee to not give away plot points on the book's cover etc. and i will only suggest that this book be read as a journey through a situation that is painful and emotionally charged and is also a very timely story, judging by many recent publications. there is some beautiful writing in here, and if there were a couple of things that snagged in my mind as inconsistencies, it doesn't matter, because the message is the same.
maybe this summer, joyce...
but proust gets finished first.
sorry, i wrote this first thing in the morning and after my shower i am thinking more clearly. i want to stress here that this book isn't difficult the way finnegan's wake is. i read it through once and then i had some questions and i read it a second time, without slowing down to question, and the second read-through was more rewarding, is all.
come to my blog!
turns out i am not, and it was a perplexing plane ride home. (why is there musical notation???, is this even a word?????)
when i was a senior, i had a teacher who was discussing the book (but not making us read it), who gave us some advice. he said to just treat it like what it was on the first go-round. just read it like a dream and power through and let it all wash over you, and do not slow down and do not stop to question it. i never returned to finnegan's wake - i like dubliners and portrait, but i can't be bothered with the big ones yet. i don't mind being intellectually challenged (although my recent school-related readings would seem to suggest otherwise) but i do not like being intellectually mocked. stuff it, joyce, i say (for now)
but so all of the above was just to say i think the "power through" method is appropriate here, for this book. i want to respect the author's decision, like chris cleave's on little bee to not give away plot points on the book's cover etc. and i will only suggest that this book be read as a journey through a situation that is painful and emotionally charged and is also a very timely story, judging by many recent publications. there is some beautiful writing in here, and if there were a couple of things that snagged in my mind as inconsistencies, it doesn't matter, because the message is the same.
maybe this summer, joyce...
but proust gets finished first.
sorry, i wrote this first thing in the morning and after my shower i am thinking more clearly. i want to stress here that this book isn't difficult the way finnegan's wake is. i read it through once and then i had some questions and i read it a second time, without slowing down to question, and the second read-through was more rewarding, is all.
come to my blog!
September 14, 2010
Semen, blood (menstrual and regular), pussing sores, placenta, vomit, rape, murder, hamburgers. This book has a lot of classic conversation topics. Generally, I liked it. Well, I’m not sure it’s fair to use the word "like" in relation to this book because it’s about as unpleasant as it gets. But it’s elegantly gruesome. I lived in Manhattan when the Sensation exhibit was at the Brooklyn Museum, and it was kind of the Thing to go see it, so my roommates and I went one night. hector reminded me a lot of walking through that exhibit, but in reverse. Like, not walking through backwards (duh) because that probably wouldn’t make that much difference, but absorbing the horror in reverse.
The most memorable and disturbing work in the show to me, and (according to Wikipedia) one of the most controversial, was Myra. brrr. I’m not sure if my memory is grossly distorting the experience, but I’m going to tell it like I remember it. I walked into an exhibition room, with maybe 20-foot-tall ceilings, and a black-and-white painting of a 1950’s blond, angry, momish woman took up the entire wall opposite me. It was kind of pretty, but a little ominous if only for being so huge and pissed off. It was a relief, though, from the other, brighter elements of the show – the dead animal halves in formaldehyde and beheaded mannequins - so I was drawn to it. As I approached the painting, I could tell that it was made of handprints – you know, like the picture of Obama made of teeny pictures of Obama? Or the one with the Olson twins made of teeny Olson twins? A mosaic. But it wasn’t until I read the placard that I understood it was horrifying. The picture was of a woman convicted of murdering children, and it was made of the handprints of a baby. Yesh, creepy.
So, aside from this book having some murder elements and some killing babies elements, the general experience of reading it was similar to viewing the Myra painting. The difference is that with the Myra painting, I saw it first from a distance, framed by other works of art, and it was inviting, even mundane. As I got closer, it became gruesome. hector, in contrast, starts with a close-up of horror that gradually pulls back, and as I understood the perspective of the horror, it became somewhat mundane. I’m not meaning to say that the ultimate reveal and perspective of hector is not horrifying, only that perspective is everything, and compared to the early, close-up horror, the pulled back horror was less shocking.
There is a story about Roman Polanski making Rosemary’s Baby and shooting the scenes so that the audience was always trying to look around corners and see what was happening just outside of the camera’s perspective. That’s how I felt reading this story. I was craning my neck to look down a hall that wasn’t there and around the pages to see who was talking.
The one critique I’ll make of this story is that I think it’s more effective to start with something identifiable that draws the reader in and end with something horrifying, rather than doing the opposite. This book is basically the story of a woman prisoner, and you don’t know who she is. She is everywoman. Ultimately, when I realized who she was, when she really took on an identity, it made her treatment seem comparatively less barbaric than I originally thought it was. I apologize for saying that, because I genuinely do care about the topic of this book, but I care more about who I thought she was than about who she turns out to be. I may change my mind later, but I have given great consideration to that value judgment.
It was kind of like coming to me and tragically, frantically telling me, "THERE'S A BOMB!!!"
"Where?! Where?!" I ask you.
"In Jerusalem!"
"Oh, whew!" But, wait. Should I be relieved about that? No, it's wrong, but there you have it. There is always a bomb in Jerusalem.
I’m trying to be cryptic because I want you to decide for yourself whether you want to read this book spoiled or unspoiled. If you want to read it spoiled, the Afterward is a statement of purpose. If you want to read it unspoiled, like I did, you’ll still get the point by the end of the story. It’s probably better to resist the Afterward because you have the “ah ha!” experience. It’s up to you, though.
Anyway, this may sound cynical, but my impression is that people are most motivated to care about this particular topic if they understand how caring benefits them, rather than through descriptions of its brutality. We’re just desensitized. Regardless of whether I’m right about that or not, this is a particularly relevant message about a particularly timely topic. And I think the words are beautiful, even if the images are intentionally disgusting. Our lovely GR author, K.I. Hope wrote it, so you should read it. It is artistic and worth your trouble. Probably, don’t read it if you’re pregnant, though.
The most memorable and disturbing work in the show to me, and (according to Wikipedia) one of the most controversial, was Myra. brrr. I’m not sure if my memory is grossly distorting the experience, but I’m going to tell it like I remember it. I walked into an exhibition room, with maybe 20-foot-tall ceilings, and a black-and-white painting of a 1950’s blond, angry, momish woman took up the entire wall opposite me. It was kind of pretty, but a little ominous if only for being so huge and pissed off. It was a relief, though, from the other, brighter elements of the show – the dead animal halves in formaldehyde and beheaded mannequins - so I was drawn to it. As I approached the painting, I could tell that it was made of handprints – you know, like the picture of Obama made of teeny pictures of Obama? Or the one with the Olson twins made of teeny Olson twins? A mosaic. But it wasn’t until I read the placard that I understood it was horrifying. The picture was of a woman convicted of murdering children, and it was made of the handprints of a baby. Yesh, creepy.
So, aside from this book having some murder elements and some killing babies elements, the general experience of reading it was similar to viewing the Myra painting. The difference is that with the Myra painting, I saw it first from a distance, framed by other works of art, and it was inviting, even mundane. As I got closer, it became gruesome. hector, in contrast, starts with a close-up of horror that gradually pulls back, and as I understood the perspective of the horror, it became somewhat mundane. I’m not meaning to say that the ultimate reveal and perspective of hector is not horrifying, only that perspective is everything, and compared to the early, close-up horror, the pulled back horror was less shocking.
There is a story about Roman Polanski making Rosemary’s Baby and shooting the scenes so that the audience was always trying to look around corners and see what was happening just outside of the camera’s perspective. That’s how I felt reading this story. I was craning my neck to look down a hall that wasn’t there and around the pages to see who was talking.
The one critique I’ll make of this story is that I think it’s more effective to start with something identifiable that draws the reader in and end with something horrifying, rather than doing the opposite. This book is basically the story of a woman prisoner, and you don’t know who she is. She is everywoman. Ultimately, when I realized who she was, when she really took on an identity, it made her treatment seem comparatively less barbaric than I originally thought it was. I apologize for saying that, because I genuinely do care about the topic of this book, but I care more about who I thought she was than about who she turns out to be. I may change my mind later, but I have given great consideration to that value judgment.
It was kind of like coming to me and tragically, frantically telling me, "THERE'S A BOMB!!!"
"Where?! Where?!" I ask you.
"In Jerusalem!"
"Oh, whew!" But, wait. Should I be relieved about that? No, it's wrong, but there you have it. There is always a bomb in Jerusalem.
I’m trying to be cryptic because I want you to decide for yourself whether you want to read this book spoiled or unspoiled. If you want to read it spoiled, the Afterward is a statement of purpose. If you want to read it unspoiled, like I did, you’ll still get the point by the end of the story. It’s probably better to resist the Afterward because you have the “ah ha!” experience. It’s up to you, though.
Anyway, this may sound cynical, but my impression is that people are most motivated to care about this particular topic if they understand how caring benefits them, rather than through descriptions of its brutality. We’re just desensitized. Regardless of whether I’m right about that or not, this is a particularly relevant message about a particularly timely topic. And I think the words are beautiful, even if the images are intentionally disgusting. Our lovely GR author, K.I. Hope wrote it, so you should read it. It is artistic and worth your trouble. Probably, don’t read it if you’re pregnant, though.
November 29, 2010
If you've noticed the tags I've chosen for this book, you're probably wondering if I've made a mistake about the book I think I'm reviewing. A book which should be in its early stages of causing a tsunami in its effects on the way we view sentience. Let those tags be your guide.
A full-disclosure clause, because although I don't know the author, I'm the person about whom she is writing. That's how I feel every day of my life, in my mind, in my reality, as another sentient entity.
To explain the last sentence would mean I have to 'spoiler' my review. So I won't do it except by saying that, in further full-disclosure, I'm not going to read the entirety of this book. Because the reality that Ms Hope describes is what I experience every day, in my mind, when I observe my other fellow sentients, from whom I feel hopelessly, ineluctably estranged. It is a suffering too harsh to bear in the written word as well as in my daily existence.
You'll have to read the book for yourself to understand why Ms Hope has so brilliantly captured what it feels like to be a sentient entity unrecognised.
A full-disclosure clause, because although I don't know the author, I'm the person about whom she is writing. That's how I feel every day of my life, in my mind, in my reality, as another sentient entity.
To explain the last sentence would mean I have to 'spoiler' my review. So I won't do it except by saying that, in further full-disclosure, I'm not going to read the entirety of this book. Because the reality that Ms Hope describes is what I experience every day, in my mind, when I observe my other fellow sentients, from whom I feel hopelessly, ineluctably estranged. It is a suffering too harsh to bear in the written word as well as in my daily existence.
You'll have to read the book for yourself to understand why Ms Hope has so brilliantly captured what it feels like to be a sentient entity unrecognised.
April 14, 2011
[DISCLAIMER: There was no quid pro quo. I repeat. There was no quid pro quo. K. I. Hope and I traded books with no expectations. She recently wrote a review of my book that humbled me in its generosity. But if I didn’t like this book, I would just tell her that privately and not review it because doing so would make me an asshole to a friend. And I wouldn’t lie about liking it either, which is totally douchey. That’s just how I fly, dog. So count this review as USDA Inspector #2 Microsoft Certified trustworthy.]
This book is a cry of anguish and rage. Sometimes it felt more like a prose poem howling against the machine than a narrative. On the surface, Hector is only about one very specific form of cruelty and that cruelty is revealed in a surprise twist at the end of the book. And that twist, in fact, helped me understand the more abstract elements. However, despite the author’s effort to make this very specific in that regard (and spelled out clearly in the afterword), it spoke to me more broadly. Sympatico with all the tortured masses crushed beneath the Gucci slippers of the rich, the corporations, and the government in cahoots with both. An indictment of the system that extrudes people like ground beef. It is unsparing in the horror it reveals, both a literal truth and a metaphor for the starvation, the rape camps, the despair produced by man (and I specifically mean “man” because patriarchy is indicted as a driving force of the war on those less powerful), and it’s a big fuck you to those who look the other way. Where were you when East Timor was invaded and 100,000 people were killed? Where were you when 800,000 were killed in Rwanda? Did you lift a finger, this book implies, to stop the genocide in Darfur, Sudan? Well, did you? Hector takes no prisoner, unlike our government, which imprisons black males at a rate six times that of whites. I read all these things behind the literal cruelty given life in this book. One cruelty builds on another builds on another.
It’s a hard read, no doubt about that. Unsparing in its brutal violence. But the lyrical quality of much of the writing helped sustain me through the most disturbing parts. The tone stayed with me, too, leaving a creepy sensation long after I put the book away. And perhaps the best thing about Hector is that it has a lot of heart. You can sense it in every line. That it was difficult to write … not because the effort shows, but because it’s unsparingly honest. I hope it will find more readers who learn something from it.
This book is a cry of anguish and rage. Sometimes it felt more like a prose poem howling against the machine than a narrative. On the surface, Hector is only about one very specific form of cruelty and that cruelty is revealed in a surprise twist at the end of the book. And that twist, in fact, helped me understand the more abstract elements. However, despite the author’s effort to make this very specific in that regard (and spelled out clearly in the afterword), it spoke to me more broadly. Sympatico with all the tortured masses crushed beneath the Gucci slippers of the rich, the corporations, and the government in cahoots with both. An indictment of the system that extrudes people like ground beef. It is unsparing in the horror it reveals, both a literal truth and a metaphor for the starvation, the rape camps, the despair produced by man (and I specifically mean “man” because patriarchy is indicted as a driving force of the war on those less powerful), and it’s a big fuck you to those who look the other way. Where were you when East Timor was invaded and 100,000 people were killed? Where were you when 800,000 were killed in Rwanda? Did you lift a finger, this book implies, to stop the genocide in Darfur, Sudan? Well, did you? Hector takes no prisoner, unlike our government, which imprisons black males at a rate six times that of whites. I read all these things behind the literal cruelty given life in this book. One cruelty builds on another builds on another.
It’s a hard read, no doubt about that. Unsparing in its brutal violence. But the lyrical quality of much of the writing helped sustain me through the most disturbing parts. The tone stayed with me, too, leaving a creepy sensation long after I put the book away. And perhaps the best thing about Hector is that it has a lot of heart. You can sense it in every line. That it was difficult to write … not because the effort shows, but because it’s unsparingly honest. I hope it will find more readers who learn something from it.
March 16, 2011
*NOTE: Authors are specifically authorized to heckle and troll this review.*
This is a difficult book to talk about because K.I. plays her cards pretty close to the chest. I want to avoid spoiling anything--in this review, the REAL review. There are some spoilers below in the fake review, so only read it if you've already read Hector.
Hector is a book about empathy.
K.I. is trying to shake her audience awake and show them how much they take for granted; how little empathy we have as a culture and as a country; how successfully we block out the things we don't want to see. This is an incredibly important point to make, and by the end of the story, she makes it very well. The ending of this brief book almost made me sick because it's so powerful, and painful, and full of despair.
But, I did feel the point was made a little too simplistically at times. The characters who are going along with the system seem too black-and-white malicious, when I feel the real problem is these people are so capable of labeling groups other than themselves as "others" that they don't recognize the ethical problems in how they are living. This is a serious problem for every culture in the world, and it's important to wrestle with how we can see each other eye to eye.
The entire structure of the book is crafted so that we, as readers, are unable to do the same thing: we HAVE to see the situation with empathy, as we see faces we usually don't even think of, as we hear voices that we rarely hear. But, another problem I had with the narrative was the way this was done. I found my suspension of disbelief wavering during scenes where the protagonist and those around her talked (and thought) too much like western democratic individuals: they seemed too knowledgeable about current events in the U.S. These two issues are the reason the book got three stars. But, based on the strength of the book's conclusion, and the strange and creative story itself, I would definitely recommend reading it.
I honestly feel this is all I can say without possibly spoiling some surprises. Oh, and I should probably mention that I know this author personally. I think I'm pretty good about not letting that effect my reviews, but you should know anyway.
---------------------------
And beyond this line be spoilers.
---------------------------
(So, I asked K.I. if she wanted me to write a review of Hector since I was only giving it three stars, or if she'd rather I just gave it a star ranking. She said "BRING IT ON." Then, she messaged me a couple days later, all like, "Yo, bitch! Where's my review?" And I said, "It's not finished. I'm trying to choose between 'masturbatory bovine-supremacist propaganda' or 'vegan torture porn.'" She insisted I include 'vegan torture porn' in my review... and then I became horribly curious about how people would react to an ineffectively mean review, since everybody loves K.I. And I'm still confused that nobody jumped to her defense in the comments...and you people say you're her friends.)
K.I., you know I love you. And I hope you aren't offended by this review, but I have to be honest.
Vegan torture porn. If you want me three-word review, that's it: vegan torture porn.
Expanding upon that idea, this self-righteous rant follows the great Ayn Rand tradition of reconstructing the world in a superficial way in order to make her point more clear. You eat meat? You are an evil fucker. Might as well put babies in microwaves, because that's pretty much what you're doing when you eat a hot dog. (well, actually, hot dogs are disgusting beyond belief, so maybe she's onto something there.....)
Keep in mind, I am reviewing this book as a raw foodie. I eat raw food about 9 out of 10 meals, and eat meat much less than once a week. So, I'm not a vegetarian, but I'm not simply trying to defend my eating habits. I'm just saying how I feel about the writing quality here.
AND WHAT THE SHIT IS THE TITLE ALL ABOUT?!?! It's not the protagonist's name, for reasons that will be obvious to those of you who have read it. Unless I missed the part where a character named Hector was mentioned....and I don't think I nodded off at any point in reading this, although it's not outside the realm of possibility.
When I reached the end of the book, I felt a little bit sick to my stomach, and I don't think it was for the intended reasons. I think it was because I'd spent so much time reading K.I.'s masturbatory prose, and her stream-of-unconsciousness writing style. Her style is as inconsistent as my sex life, and meanders from idea to idea like a drunk high schooler trying to drive his truck home after a Halloween party. Pointless, disconnected tangents are dribbled like dog shit onto the green grass of what could've been a semi-coherent plot.
All of that said, I look forward to reading your new book, This is Not a Flophouse, K.I., and I'm sure you're looking forward to hearing my thoughts on it.
This is a difficult book to talk about because K.I. plays her cards pretty close to the chest. I want to avoid spoiling anything--in this review, the REAL review. There are some spoilers below in the fake review, so only read it if you've already read Hector.
Hector is a book about empathy.
K.I. is trying to shake her audience awake and show them how much they take for granted; how little empathy we have as a culture and as a country; how successfully we block out the things we don't want to see. This is an incredibly important point to make, and by the end of the story, she makes it very well. The ending of this brief book almost made me sick because it's so powerful, and painful, and full of despair.
But, I did feel the point was made a little too simplistically at times. The characters who are going along with the system seem too black-and-white malicious, when I feel the real problem is these people are so capable of labeling groups other than themselves as "others" that they don't recognize the ethical problems in how they are living. This is a serious problem for every culture in the world, and it's important to wrestle with how we can see each other eye to eye.
The entire structure of the book is crafted so that we, as readers, are unable to do the same thing: we HAVE to see the situation with empathy, as we see faces we usually don't even think of, as we hear voices that we rarely hear. But, another problem I had with the narrative was the way this was done. I found my suspension of disbelief wavering during scenes where the protagonist and those around her talked (and thought) too much like western democratic individuals: they seemed too knowledgeable about current events in the U.S. These two issues are the reason the book got three stars. But, based on the strength of the book's conclusion, and the strange and creative story itself, I would definitely recommend reading it.
I honestly feel this is all I can say without possibly spoiling some surprises. Oh, and I should probably mention that I know this author personally. I think I'm pretty good about not letting that effect my reviews, but you should know anyway.
---------------------------
And beyond this line be spoilers.
---------------------------
(So, I asked K.I. if she wanted me to write a review of Hector since I was only giving it three stars, or if she'd rather I just gave it a star ranking. She said "BRING IT ON." Then, she messaged me a couple days later, all like, "Yo, bitch! Where's my review?" And I said, "It's not finished. I'm trying to choose between 'masturbatory bovine-supremacist propaganda' or 'vegan torture porn.'" She insisted I include 'vegan torture porn' in my review... and then I became horribly curious about how people would react to an ineffectively mean review, since everybody loves K.I. And I'm still confused that nobody jumped to her defense in the comments...and you people say you're her friends.)
K.I., you know I love you. And I hope you aren't offended by this review, but I have to be honest.
Vegan torture porn. If you want me three-word review, that's it: vegan torture porn.
Expanding upon that idea, this self-righteous rant follows the great Ayn Rand tradition of reconstructing the world in a superficial way in order to make her point more clear. You eat meat? You are an evil fucker. Might as well put babies in microwaves, because that's pretty much what you're doing when you eat a hot dog. (well, actually, hot dogs are disgusting beyond belief, so maybe she's onto something there.....)
Keep in mind, I am reviewing this book as a raw foodie. I eat raw food about 9 out of 10 meals, and eat meat much less than once a week. So, I'm not a vegetarian, but I'm not simply trying to defend my eating habits. I'm just saying how I feel about the writing quality here.
AND WHAT THE SHIT IS THE TITLE ALL ABOUT?!?! It's not the protagonist's name, for reasons that will be obvious to those of you who have read it. Unless I missed the part where a character named Hector was mentioned....and I don't think I nodded off at any point in reading this, although it's not outside the realm of possibility.
When I reached the end of the book, I felt a little bit sick to my stomach, and I don't think it was for the intended reasons. I think it was because I'd spent so much time reading K.I.'s masturbatory prose, and her stream-of-unconsciousness writing style. Her style is as inconsistent as my sex life, and meanders from idea to idea like a drunk high schooler trying to drive his truck home after a Halloween party. Pointless, disconnected tangents are dribbled like dog shit onto the green grass of what could've been a semi-coherent plot.
All of that said, I look forward to reading your new book, This is Not a Flophouse, K.I., and I'm sure you're looking forward to hearing my thoughts on it.
January 16, 2011
I clicked the spoiler button. If you haven't read Hector you might not want to read on because I'm going to just be writing like the big twist given in the afterward is obvious, even though it really isn't so obvious in the text itself. For some reason I knew what the twist was before I knew of anyone who read the book. I don't know if I was just being smart in figuring it out from the blurb from Carol Adams, the author of The Sexual Politics of Meat, which inspired this song, from Consolidated's Friendly Fascism CD, a record that is almost laughable in it's earnestness but which was one of those important records to my political awareness of the world. Or maybe when I was shelving the book on day I happened to leaf through it and saw the afterword, and really I'm not that clever. Needless, I was aware that it was a novel about animal rights and I knew that it was being told from the perspective of an animal.
The one real miss in the book is that the perspective of the animal is a little weird at times. The awareness of the animal is a bit too all encompassing of the great big world outside of the factory farm that she lives in. Her dreams know too much about the world and are concerned with with a whole budding political ideology that sees disgust and anger at a whole slew of injustices but which are too unbelievable for a cow living her life trapped in a cage to think about. I feel a little weird for making this kind of observation, but it made me feel on the textual level like K.I. was being a little too manipulative with the twist she was going to make. But really that is ok.
This is an angry book and K.I. aims her anger like a shotgun blasting at a whole bunch of targets. I appreciate anger, and miss my own externally focused anger at the world around me. The book reminded me of when I gave a fuck about things outside of the boundaries of my own despicable self and it made me feel more than just a bit ashamed at my own contribution by supporting the destructive and dehumane corporate meat industry because I know that I know better.
Going in to this book I was a little afraid. I worry about reading books by people who I know, even if it is only through the internet and I have enough experience from reading (and writing) angry political zines that sometimes the writing itself sometimes takes a backseat and clarity can be lost in trying to get everything out that the author feels needs to be said. But, I think that K.I. didn't fall into the trap of sacrificing writing in a coherent manner in favor of the message. I wasn't crazy about some of the stylistic choices and at times the writing was a bit too lyrical for me, but at other times the lyrical worked perfectly and the feelings of loss and desperation were captured in a brutally wonderful way. I have to admit I feared that this might read like too many self-published novels but I think K.I. did a pretty awesome job at editing Hector and making it into a powerful depiction of the horrors of the meat industry.
The one real miss in the book is that the perspective of the animal is a little weird at times. The awareness of the animal is a bit too all encompassing of the great big world outside of the factory farm that she lives in. Her dreams know too much about the world and are concerned with with a whole budding political ideology that sees disgust and anger at a whole slew of injustices but which are too unbelievable for a cow living her life trapped in a cage to think about. I feel a little weird for making this kind of observation, but it made me feel on the textual level like K.I. was being a little too manipulative with the twist she was going to make. But really that is ok.
This is an angry book and K.I. aims her anger like a shotgun blasting at a whole bunch of targets. I appreciate anger, and miss my own externally focused anger at the world around me. The book reminded me of when I gave a fuck about things outside of the boundaries of my own despicable self and it made me feel more than just a bit ashamed at my own contribution by supporting the destructive and dehumane corporate meat industry because I know that I know better.
Going in to this book I was a little afraid. I worry about reading books by people who I know, even if it is only through the internet and I have enough experience from reading (and writing) angry political zines that sometimes the writing itself sometimes takes a backseat and clarity can be lost in trying to get everything out that the author feels needs to be said. But, I think that K.I. didn't fall into the trap of sacrificing writing in a coherent manner in favor of the message. I wasn't crazy about some of the stylistic choices and at times the writing was a bit too lyrical for me, but at other times the lyrical worked perfectly and the feelings of loss and desperation were captured in a brutally wonderful way. I have to admit I feared that this might read like too many self-published novels but I think K.I. did a pretty awesome job at editing Hector and making it into a powerful depiction of the horrors of the meat industry.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
July 2, 2011
Jabber be praised! After two months, !TWO MONTHS!, my copy finally arrived today. I love what Lulu does, but it blows to buy from Lulu when you're in Canada.
__________________________________________________
Hector is not a novel. Nor a poem. Nor a work of entertainment. Nor even a manifesto.
It’s an act of violence. A sadistic, intentional, deliberate assault on the reader.
It is a gash torn into the fleshy, well fed belly of the leviathan that is us. A long suppurating, infected wound that stinks to the top of every peak, so that all we can smell is the gangrenous waft of its corruption, puss filled and rank. It is a gross thing meant for suffering.
It is a harpoon lancing into the hump on our backs and biting deeply and painfully. Screaming through bone, fragmenting shards as it plunges, shunting aside flesh and blubber, to catch us on the end of a rope that will lead to our disembowelment and the spilling of our ambergris to some creature better than us.
It is a the decapitation of our noble heads and the insect larvae housing themselves in the gore of our exsanguinated husks, the pulsating spew of ichor into dirt to make red mud -- ourselves as the iron source.
It is hatred, a hatred of hubris that makes us most human. It is a hatred of ourselves, a self-loathing, an admission of guilt and an accusation and an endless, spewing, projectile vomit of black tar from the core of our nastiness.
It is the screaming, iced urine from a chamber pot, light burning our eyes, fists against our skull awakening from the nightmare zombification of our mundanity. The bruising and scar tissue we see in the mirrors and cover with cosmetics or hats or sunglasses.
It is our shame. And it all comes from a place that is the reverse.
It's powerful and I love the woman who made it. Can we meet someday and scream from a cliff against the waves? The waves will beat us. There’s nothing to be done about that. But the screaming will be something. Something at least.
__________________________________________________
Hector is not a novel. Nor a poem. Nor a work of entertainment. Nor even a manifesto.
It’s an act of violence. A sadistic, intentional, deliberate assault on the reader.
It is a gash torn into the fleshy, well fed belly of the leviathan that is us. A long suppurating, infected wound that stinks to the top of every peak, so that all we can smell is the gangrenous waft of its corruption, puss filled and rank. It is a gross thing meant for suffering.
It is a harpoon lancing into the hump on our backs and biting deeply and painfully. Screaming through bone, fragmenting shards as it plunges, shunting aside flesh and blubber, to catch us on the end of a rope that will lead to our disembowelment and the spilling of our ambergris to some creature better than us.
It is a the decapitation of our noble heads and the insect larvae housing themselves in the gore of our exsanguinated husks, the pulsating spew of ichor into dirt to make red mud -- ourselves as the iron source.
It is hatred, a hatred of hubris that makes us most human. It is a hatred of ourselves, a self-loathing, an admission of guilt and an accusation and an endless, spewing, projectile vomit of black tar from the core of our nastiness.
It is the screaming, iced urine from a chamber pot, light burning our eyes, fists against our skull awakening from the nightmare zombification of our mundanity. The bruising and scar tissue we see in the mirrors and cover with cosmetics or hats or sunglasses.
It is our shame. And it all comes from a place that is the reverse.
It's powerful and I love the woman who made it. Can we meet someday and scream from a cliff against the waves? The waves will beat us. There’s nothing to be done about that. But the screaming will be something. Something at least.
October 17, 2010
I'm not going to plot-spoil here, it would be counter-productive. This book is too important.
Way too important.
It's unusual for me to have a strong emotional reaction to a book. Sadly, it's a common problem for anyone in the industry. We spend a large amount of time reading junk and writing (hopefully) helpful letters to those who have sent the junk. We edit, we sell, we (gladly and willingly!) use up most of our passion for literature on our beloved client's books. In an agency, the first year...we work eighteen to twenty hour days. It's an enigma for someone who likes to pleasure read. It's just a constant immersion in words. You just develop a bit of a thick skin to most anything.
That is not the case here..
Given the opportunity, I'd have repped this book in a New York minute...and I wouldn't have stopped until it was sold. Kudos to whoever the agent is that got this published, truly. It's a gut-wrenching piece that exposes a sector of humanity that we so badly want to forget...
I hope we never do.
(And...let me state, once again, the views here are my own and I'm NOT a writer, although I admire them greatly and am honored to represent them. Please forgive my rough draft-ish style here...
I'm much better on vocals.
Most salesmen are.)
I've stalled on reviewing this piece for two reasons...
1) it made me feel ashamed for not following my own convictions these past few years..
2) I had to have time to let this sink in..
HECTOR has brought about an extreme change in the way I think, and in the way I am raising my daughter.
***excerpt alert - NOT a spoiler*****
"Her right eye was stuck shut, glued to itself with blood, the vessels having burst, lashes interlocking like stitches."
That is the first line in HECTOR.
I know, I know...it's difficult to read. It makes ones stomach flip over and it forces the mental picture that one makes while reading.
Who is it....Where are they, WHY, why???
Honestly, the face that I saw...the beauty underneath all that horror.. I. Saw. My. Daughter.
Talk about a slap in the consciousness. My own child, in a situation where I couldn't rescue her and in which she truly had no hope but her own.
I can't even begin to articulate what this book has done to me, done for me, how it has changed me. You will never regret reading this book. It will change your life. We are ALL Hector. It's shocking and disturbing, it's true, and it's powerful. It could change the world.
and now...after reading this book.. after feeling my conflict and denial slip into resolve and fury...
I hope.
Way too important.
It's unusual for me to have a strong emotional reaction to a book. Sadly, it's a common problem for anyone in the industry. We spend a large amount of time reading junk and writing (hopefully) helpful letters to those who have sent the junk. We edit, we sell, we (gladly and willingly!) use up most of our passion for literature on our beloved client's books. In an agency, the first year...we work eighteen to twenty hour days. It's an enigma for someone who likes to pleasure read. It's just a constant immersion in words. You just develop a bit of a thick skin to most anything.
That is not the case here..
Given the opportunity, I'd have repped this book in a New York minute...and I wouldn't have stopped until it was sold. Kudos to whoever the agent is that got this published, truly. It's a gut-wrenching piece that exposes a sector of humanity that we so badly want to forget...
I hope we never do.
(And...let me state, once again, the views here are my own and I'm NOT a writer, although I admire them greatly and am honored to represent them. Please forgive my rough draft-ish style here...
I'm much better on vocals.
Most salesmen are.)
I've stalled on reviewing this piece for two reasons...
1) it made me feel ashamed for not following my own convictions these past few years..
2) I had to have time to let this sink in..
HECTOR has brought about an extreme change in the way I think, and in the way I am raising my daughter.
***excerpt alert - NOT a spoiler*****
"Her right eye was stuck shut, glued to itself with blood, the vessels having burst, lashes interlocking like stitches."
That is the first line in HECTOR.
I know, I know...it's difficult to read. It makes ones stomach flip over and it forces the mental picture that one makes while reading.
Who is it....Where are they, WHY, why???
Honestly, the face that I saw...the beauty underneath all that horror.. I. Saw. My. Daughter.
Talk about a slap in the consciousness. My own child, in a situation where I couldn't rescue her and in which she truly had no hope but her own.
I can't even begin to articulate what this book has done to me, done for me, how it has changed me. You will never regret reading this book. It will change your life. We are ALL Hector. It's shocking and disturbing, it's true, and it's powerful. It could change the world.
and now...after reading this book.. after feeling my conflict and denial slip into resolve and fury...
I hope.
November 9, 2010
OK, I had vowed I wouldn't review books here anymore bc I just wanted to read for pleasure in the off-hours and not think about writing critically and pithily on them, in part bc my pith had gone pffft. My priestly vows held for about a year and a half. But I just finished this book (after protracted reading in batches, which is the only way time permits anymore) ... and ... well I want to help sell folks on K.I. bc she's a talented writer and deserves an audience. This isn't my official review bc I'm still processing, but I will say this is an intense dystopian protest against inhumanitarianism that puts you knee-deep in the viscera. And appropriately enough, I finished it the night before George W's not-a-mea-culpa-but-a-fucka-youa is officially released. (Kismet!) Full-tilt thematic analysis to come, but for now, I'm simply seeing stars (5 of them).
December 16, 2010
There's only one way to see M. Night Shyamalan's The Sixth Sense, and that's in a packed theater on opening night, Aug. 2, 1999, before anyone has had a chance to smugly tell you how they totally knew the end, omg! it was so obvious!
Because that's how I saw it and the ending pretty much floored me, gave a richer depth and texture to everything that came before, helped me rationalize some of the moments that hadn't quite theretofore added up.
As a director, Shyamalan gets a lot of flack for relying too much on his endings, but I don't think that's fair when talking about this movie, which is clearly his best unless you are a superhero apologist willing to overlook all the clumsy parts of Unbreakable (I almost am). Because sometimes a twist ending is more than a trick, but a refocusing, a redefinition, an elevation.
Because that's how I saw it and the ending pretty much floored me, gave a richer depth and texture to everything that came before, helped me rationalize some of the moments that hadn't quite theretofore added up.
As a director, Shyamalan gets a lot of flack for relying too much on his endings, but I don't think that's fair when talking about this movie, which is clearly his best unless you are a superhero apologist willing to overlook all the clumsy parts of Unbreakable (I almost am). Because sometimes a twist ending is more than a trick, but a refocusing, a redefinition, an elevation.
June 29, 2010
this book was going to be a 3 for me, but i was planning on giving it a 4 anyway cuz K.I. is mad cool. and then Enter The Afterward.
anyway! i was feeling kind of sorry for having a penis during the whole time i was reading this book... and i was planning on congratulating K.I. for making me feel that way! i mean i fucking love my penis!!! then i was planning on talking about a Dariah episode were she is asked to write something for some psychiatrist people... and when she gets there they try to put her "under control" i mean there is a lot of crazy shit going down in this book... an THEN! i read the afterward! ha! fuck! i started laughing like there was no tomorrow! i dont want to ruin it for anybody... so i'ma shut the fuck up!
Foot Over Tofu makes so much sense now!!!!
anyway! i was feeling kind of sorry for having a penis during the whole time i was reading this book... and i was planning on congratulating K.I. for making me feel that way! i mean i fucking love my penis!!! then i was planning on talking about a Dariah episode were she is asked to write something for some psychiatrist people... and when she gets there they try to put her "under control" i mean there is a lot of crazy shit going down in this book... an THEN! i read the afterward! ha! fuck! i started laughing like there was no tomorrow! i dont want to ruin it for anybody... so i'ma shut the fuck up!
Foot Over Tofu makes so much sense now!!!!
November 29, 2010
There is an unvarying nag in my head hollering that I would not do a better job than Brian on this review. Overwhelmed by copious snuffles and fleeting "Lorena-Bobbitt" delusions, I rather comply with the lyrical rhyme of my monotonous cerebral paranoia. So, here’s the better deal:-
http://www.goodreads.com/review/show/...
Cheers! To Brian and his fine review!
P.S.:- The epilogue joggles your wits.(Ha!)
http://www.goodreads.com/review/show/...
Cheers! To Brian and his fine review!
P.S.:- The epilogue joggles your wits.(Ha!)
May 23, 2011
I don't know K.I. Hope personally, but I would like to. She's a brilliant author who has written a hauntingly poetic manifesto of our times; where the boundaries between what's real and what's a dream are so eloquently blurred, you can't tell the two apart, but then at the end, both come into shockingly sharp focus. I seriously can't wait to read more from her.
July 1, 2011
tried my best not to give any spoilers. it's pretty hard to talk about without doing so, but here's my shot...
i've been trying to figure out how to review this book... and more importantly, the impact it's had on me. it certainly was not an easy read - because of the content mostly, but also because the readability was a bit sketchy at times as it hopped around the way only a stream of consciousness could. but it definitely was not just a stream of consciousness; there was planning involved... lots of it. it was a completely different story than the one i was expecting, which isn't always a bad thing. but at the end i felt played, manipulated, undoubtedly shocked, angry - but just as angry at the author as i was with the... twist (for lack of a better word).
i suppose sifting through the slew of emotions after finishing was part of hope's intent, so in that way her mission was accomplished. has it changed me and made a lasting impact in my life? ish. if awareness is the first step to change, then maybe that's where i am. but has it moved me to the kind of extreme action i imagine the author probably wants? no. will it ever? probably not. (i'm down with the natural order, honestly, so i'm not going to apologize or feel sorry for that part of my choice.) will it help me to make better choices in my day-to-day life? yep. it's all about the golden pasture the elder mentioned. anyway, i can see why so many people believe this is a must-read and how it's life-changing etc. if you're on the cusp already, then this will send you right over that edge.
there were a couple of parts i did take issue with. the end with the stomach took it too far. i don't think the soul resides solely (heh) in the flesh. i doubt many people believe that in death our bodies - or parts thereof - remain sentient, so to go there seemed unnecessary. it's possible it was poetic license to get the point across about who this protagonist was, but it just seemed to lose some credibility there. the other thing i had a problem with was the diversions into the other timelines (i'm guessing here, because again, it made no sense). they seemed to have no purpose in the context of the rest of the story. it seemed like a waste though because those parts were well-written and creative. they just belong to another story i think.
also, i still don't get the title. is it a greek mythology reference and hope means to akin the protagonist to the trojan warrior? or rather herself? or both?? clearly, the book is a scathing social commentary and as such, maybe hope feels like the hero fighting in this war? seems pretty arrogant if she is calling herself hector. though you need to have a bit of arrogance if you feel like you need to take on the world. still confused.
i've been trying to figure out how to review this book... and more importantly, the impact it's had on me. it certainly was not an easy read - because of the content mostly, but also because the readability was a bit sketchy at times as it hopped around the way only a stream of consciousness could. but it definitely was not just a stream of consciousness; there was planning involved... lots of it. it was a completely different story than the one i was expecting, which isn't always a bad thing. but at the end i felt played, manipulated, undoubtedly shocked, angry - but just as angry at the author as i was with the... twist (for lack of a better word).
i suppose sifting through the slew of emotions after finishing was part of hope's intent, so in that way her mission was accomplished. has it changed me and made a lasting impact in my life? ish. if awareness is the first step to change, then maybe that's where i am. but has it moved me to the kind of extreme action i imagine the author probably wants? no. will it ever? probably not. (i'm down with the natural order, honestly, so i'm not going to apologize or feel sorry for that part of my choice.) will it help me to make better choices in my day-to-day life? yep. it's all about the golden pasture the elder mentioned. anyway, i can see why so many people believe this is a must-read and how it's life-changing etc. if you're on the cusp already, then this will send you right over that edge.
there were a couple of parts i did take issue with. the end with the stomach took it too far. i don't think the soul resides solely (heh) in the flesh. i doubt many people believe that in death our bodies - or parts thereof - remain sentient, so to go there seemed unnecessary. it's possible it was poetic license to get the point across about who this protagonist was, but it just seemed to lose some credibility there. the other thing i had a problem with was the diversions into the other timelines (i'm guessing here, because again, it made no sense). they seemed to have no purpose in the context of the rest of the story. it seemed like a waste though because those parts were well-written and creative. they just belong to another story i think.
also, i still don't get the title. is it a greek mythology reference and hope means to akin the protagonist to the trojan warrior? or rather herself? or both?? clearly, the book is a scathing social commentary and as such, maybe hope feels like the hero fighting in this war? seems pretty arrogant if she is calling herself hector. though you need to have a bit of arrogance if you feel like you need to take on the world. still confused.
September 21, 2015
The only 'problem' that you have after you finish this book is that you have to start it again, because that massive spoiler at the end, in my head did a numbing twist, because sincerely during the first reading I didn’t really care about this imprisoned woman. I as well felt like this story is very much disjointed, but this is my problem, I don't like too much of dissectioned everyday philosophy and nagging 'let's talk about our feelings' drama.
So it’s fair to say that writing is exaggerated. I always see words as a bridge. In this book most of them were bridge to mindfucking. I don’t mind cruelty and rawness and how this disturbing topic was described - that always raises the awareness, but sometimes less is better.
It felt like the eloquence of this book was sometimes strangling the author, and therefore me as well. On the other hand, I would highly recommend it, it's very unusually done. But as I said, I like to simplify things in my life and not go into dark dubiousness, and this book makes you swim in gutter and moral ambiguities, although it talks about things that are very much clear in my head.
So it’s fair to say that writing is exaggerated. I always see words as a bridge. In this book most of them were bridge to mindfucking. I don’t mind cruelty and rawness and how this disturbing topic was described - that always raises the awareness, but sometimes less is better.
It felt like the eloquence of this book was sometimes strangling the author, and therefore me as well. On the other hand, I would highly recommend it, it's very unusually done. But as I said, I like to simplify things in my life and not go into dark dubiousness, and this book makes you swim in gutter and moral ambiguities, although it talks about things that are very much clear in my head.
September 10, 2011
I have been done with this book and thinking about how to review it for a long time. I've decided I won't do it justice so I should just get on with it.
What can I say. K.I. you are fecking brilliant. You also piss me off a little because I try really hard to not think about these things since I cook. A lot. But there you go, making me think and feel and want to do the "right" thing. It's good I'm such a hardass. I am not the target audience for this book I don't think, or maybe I am the exact right audience now that I think about it, but I've already passed it on and plan on doing so as long as I find people willing to read it. Which truly should be everyone I know. Except for my girlfriend because I still need to be able to cook one meal for the both of us.
What can I say. K.I. you are fecking brilliant. You also piss me off a little because I try really hard to not think about these things since I cook. A lot. But there you go, making me think and feel and want to do the "right" thing. It's good I'm such a hardass. I am not the target audience for this book I don't think, or maybe I am the exact right audience now that I think about it, but I've already passed it on and plan on doing so as long as I find people willing to read it. Which truly should be everyone I know. Except for my girlfriend because I still need to be able to cook one meal for the both of us.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
January 17, 2011
As a side note to this quick review, this was the FIRST book I read on my brand spankin' new KINDLE. Now that I've finished reading it I must say it was an interesting way to break it in. Now onto reading the ton of free samples I downloaded in the past week...
It's hard to tell about Hector without spoiling any of the details, so I'll just be simple, dull and quick about it. It's written fantastically, with a heavy amount of passion for the subject and the statement behind it. If you don't feel compelled, in one way or another, by the end of it, you have no soul. Hope wrote this as a love letter to the oppressed, and I must say she definitely succeeded in that feat. It sounds to me almost like a battle-cry, an open declaration of war to those who have done wrong.
So read it for yourself, and you decide what to think of it. Now if you'll excuse me, I feel inclined to down a few beers.
It's hard to tell about Hector without spoiling any of the details, so I'll just be simple, dull and quick about it. It's written fantastically, with a heavy amount of passion for the subject and the statement behind it. If you don't feel compelled, in one way or another, by the end of it, you have no soul. Hope wrote this as a love letter to the oppressed, and I must say she definitely succeeded in that feat. It sounds to me almost like a battle-cry, an open declaration of war to those who have done wrong.
So read it for yourself, and you decide what to think of it. Now if you'll excuse me, I feel inclined to down a few beers.
February 15, 2011
This is me, rolling my eyes.
We're not supposed to eat meat huh? And what about every other carnivore out there? I'm sorry, I don't buy it. The afterward mentions an ecosystem and I believe in one that involves supply and demand and yes, eating meat.
But oh, do we have to treat the animals so badly? No, and I've been swayed by those videos showing the worst of the worst slaughterhouses. And they're convincing though I suspect not completely indicative of the entire system. I did not find this book convincing. I found it preachy and condescending and too ridiculous to be taken seriously. The gore was reveled in and the grotesque humans unbelievable. One licks the juice off his plate and then uses an alligator skin wallet? Thats laying it on thick.
I resent the last line, as if we are all uninformed drones. Some of us can make our own decisions, they just don't happen to be the same as the author's.
We're not supposed to eat meat huh? And what about every other carnivore out there? I'm sorry, I don't buy it. The afterward mentions an ecosystem and I believe in one that involves supply and demand and yes, eating meat.
But oh, do we have to treat the animals so badly? No, and I've been swayed by those videos showing the worst of the worst slaughterhouses. And they're convincing though I suspect not completely indicative of the entire system. I did not find this book convincing. I found it preachy and condescending and too ridiculous to be taken seriously. The gore was reveled in and the grotesque humans unbelievable. One licks the juice off his plate and then uses an alligator skin wallet? Thats laying it on thick.
I resent the last line, as if we are all uninformed drones. Some of us can make our own decisions, they just don't happen to be the same as the author's.
February 18, 2011
I can't believe it took me this long to get this book finished. It's not long at all - in fact if you were determined, you could probably finish it very easily in a weekend. I really, really want to stay away from adding spoilers to this review so talking about the book in depth is difficult.
It is very well written - K.I. Hope is a very talented writer and I look forward to reading "This is Not a Flop House," a book that I am sure is much, much different in tone and theme than this one. Because I know the author, I feel as though I kind of spoiled this book for myself right from the start in terms of what's going on during the novel. I'm thinking that had I of not known all along what was going on, I would have had a much more emotional response to it.
It is very well written - K.I. Hope is a very talented writer and I look forward to reading "This is Not a Flop House," a book that I am sure is much, much different in tone and theme than this one. Because I know the author, I feel as though I kind of spoiled this book for myself right from the start in terms of what's going on during the novel. I'm thinking that had I of not known all along what was going on, I would have had a much more emotional response to it.
November 13, 2009
I won't pretend to be objective (Kristen is a friend), but this book is incredibly powerful book. I have many thoughts that would give away parts of the book - so if anyone reads it and wants to know what I think, just send me a message.
December 2, 2010
Got a little over half way through when I found my missing copy of A Feast For Crows. I'll finsih it shortly.
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