The Sub , the fourth novel in Thomas M. Disch's Supernatural Minnesota series, which uses different supernatural horrors to satirize modern America, focuses on Diana Turney, a substitute teacher in the town of Leech Lake, Minnesota, left to care for her niece after her sister is imprisoned for the attempted murder of her philandering husband. Haunted by her father's ghost and disturbing repressed memories, Diana discovers she has the power to turn people into their animal totems and proceeds to transform locals into an array of creatures from spiders to pigs. Diana, her cruelty growing in proportion to her power, dismisses a warning from her father's ghost that she is destined to kill everyone she loves and continues on a spree of violence and mayhem.
Poet and cynic, Thomas M. Disch brought to the sf of the New Wave a camp sensibility and a sardonicism that too much sf had lacked. His sf novels include Camp Concentration, with its colony of prisoners mutated into super-intelligence by the bacteria that will in due course kill them horribly, and On Wings of Song, in which many of the brightest and best have left their bodies for what may be genuine, or entirely illusory, astral flight and his hero has to survive until his lover comes back to him; both are stunningly original books and both are among sf's more accomplishedly bitter-sweet works.
In later years, Disch had turned to ironically moralized horror novels like The Businessman, The MD, The Priest and The Sub in which the nightmare of American suburbia is satirized through the terrible things that happen when the magical gives people the chance to do what they really really want. Perhaps Thomas M. Disch's best known work, though, is The Brave Little Toaster, a reworking of the Brothers Grimm's "Town Musicians of Bremen" featuring wornout domestic appliances -- what was written as a satire on sentimentality became a successful children's animated musical.
Disch pretty much nails it again. 'The Sub' is the final book in his Supernatural Minnesota quartet, and again, he masterfully toys with the conventions of a small-town drama illuminated with his mordantly barbed sense of humor, which simultaneously mocks and appreciates the standard American horror novel. Characterization takes some time to gel, as does Disch's narrative memento, but once he sets the webs for his large ensemble cast, he starts weaving it all towards a domestic and savagely funny doom, emboldened by a climax that rivals any backwoods headline of cannibalism, soul transference, animism, and of course, old-fashioned witchcraft.
As absurd as they are in their casual disregard for every one around them, the characters are what carry this novel. Diana - the witch / her father - the ghost in the smokehouse / Kelly - her niece who gets her fair share of abuse by invalid adults / Joe Cottonwood - a wrongly-convicted Native American who dalliances with a crow / and Carl - the loser husband who embodies the swine yet may just be a hero.
Not as grand as 'The M.D' but superior to the first in the quartet, 'The Businessman'. Very solid novel.
Sometimes rereading a book is like reading it for the first time. I first read this when it originally came out in 1999 - the year I got married! Yay! - but I have no real memory of what happened in it. I was pretty sure there were pigs involved somewhere.
This was the last book in Disch's Supernatural Minnesota series, and it mines familiar Dischian themes of fundamentalist religion and the banality of evil. It's a masterful, assured, wonderfully written tale of ghosts and witchcraft and shamanism, all grounded in mundane and familiar human passions and foibles and failings. Disch had a keen satirist's eye, and though he saved the worst of his ire for Christian intolerance, wiccans and atheists and Indian skinwalkers prove no less evil and destructive.
Diana Turney is a substitute teacher out of work after a scandal shuts down her school. While her sister is in prison for shooting her husband, she goes to live with the husband to care for their daughter Kelly. She recovers memories of her father abusing her as a child and encounters his malevolent ghost in the smokehouse of the family home, and suddenly she has the power to turn people into animals. A large cast of characters is drawn into the web of evil she weaves with her new-found abilities, corrupting innocence and unearthing horrible secrets.
Disch carries off a complex plot full of the unexpected with ease and skill and invents a range of flawed and interesting characters depicted with unflinching accuracy. Not as dazzling and epic as The MD, perhaps, but then The MD may be one of the best books ever, but still a brilliant horror novel of rare literary merit, moral complexity and real power.
The Sub was interesting. I think I mostly enjoyed it as much as I did because I hadn't known what to expect. Let me now ruin that ability for you.
The novel mines very much a similar vein to Gaiman's American Gods. Only without any of the gods. Still, there's magic and shamanism and small towns and boonies. And the narrative is peppered with humourous notes. Really though, the thing that makes this novel work best is its shifting narrative plane. Chapter by chapter, Disch leaps from one character's perspective to another. He does so sensibly and this effort helps the reader empathize with characters who had previously been shown in an unfavourable light.
The story is well-paced and kept me interested throughout. The unraveling of mysteries and the up-tying of ends loosed within the story all worked well for me; and Disch's writing was competent enough to engage even a sense of joy while reading. I picked up The Sub as a distraction from Dave Eggers' What Is the What and Disch's authorship was a revelation in comparison with Eggers' lifeless words in the latter book.
In any case, The Sub was a fun, quick read. Great travel reading.
ASIDE: I had read some complaints of misogyny on the part of the author. These are wholly unfounded. Disch takes an equal opportunity to portray the bulk of his characters in negative light. Male. Female. It doesn't matter. Their most visible traits are all undesirable and Disch does not cease to poke fun at them, their inadequacies, and their hypocrisies.
Absolutely hated this book. I have a tendency to collect books on witchcraft fiction and this is now my newest least favorite. There was no main protagonist. My main beef is that they treated the central witch character as an uncontrolled, evil woman who plays with powers beyond her comprehension. Great if you like grown-up stories that are fairy-tale like, i.e. evil witch vs. Hansel and Gretel.
This is the tale of a substitute teacher who can turn people into animals, and the power goes to her head. It's also a tale of love and hatred, and of the good, evil, and conflicting desires that drive people.
This was my favorite book of the series. While it retains the weirdness, there's more actual plot going on here. The moodiness of the prior books is still there, but instead of presenting it through character introspection it's just sort of...there. As much as I dug the prior books, this felt a little more polished, and it was just more fun.
It wasn't until this final story that I saw the recurring theme to the Supernatural Minnesota books; most of the major characters had control over others, while others controlled them. There's a resistance to this control, but for the most part the characters just accept it and go about their business. It's an interesting expression of the same fatalism that King sometimes gives his characters, but it's much more subtle in Disch's books. I'm sad the series is over, but I'll definitely read more of his sci-fi soon.
The main character of this book is James. He switches places with his best friend, Ray because there is a substitute teacher. At first they thought it would be cool or funny. When they were at it, switched and all, hey realized that this wasn't so funny. Whenever Ray did something bad, James' name got written on the board. The same thing happened when James did something bad, Ray got in trouble. They were both new to the people around them. They were shocked when hey heard the sub was staying another three days. James didn't want to get in trouble for Ray's behavior. He decided to tell Mr. Hart. When he got to school, the sub was still there. James and Ray stayed quiet for another two days. He next day, Ray broke his leg in gym and the gym teacher knew his name, so James and Ray were in big trouble when the sub finds out. James decided to tell he sub the truth to the sub. The sub just laughed and said she knew it the whole time. Everything ended okay and Mr. Hart was glad since James and Ray learned a lesson.
Hilarious and horrifying all at once. It's true what others have said of the author's wicked wit—quite on target. Thomas M. Disch was truly an under-appreciated author, who sadly died far too young. Most of his works seem to be out of print, and almost NONE are available in digital format.
I really wish that someone (some publisher?) would create new editions of his works and release them with fanfare so that (perhaps) the public might take note and a new audience could read these books. Recommended reading.
Didn't bump into anything super new or clever here. This book kind of fell in between a bunch of genres for me, and it was hard to pin one down as a frame of reading reference. So it ended up being hard for me to settle down for a good reading session with the book. Like putting on some underwear that's just a tad too small and feeling just a little off all day, y'know? It was interesting enough to see how it ends, though.
One of the techniques of Gothic literature, one of many that is, is to associate the human with the animal. Acting like an animal is a common way of characterizing Gothic characters in Gothic stories. Thomas M. Disch was a master in utilizing this technique to keep readers engaged in his narrative arc. Let's take a simple example which I believe demonstrates several propositions: that Gothic literature reveals deep mysteries about people, the type of mysteries that most of us would be afraid to acknowledge; that Disch is a master of Gothic narrative; that Disch was fully capable of utilizing a wide variety of storytelling techniques in order to keep readers in engaged.
The classroom is one of Disch's favorite settings; it is the scene where most of us learn the intricate performance of sado-masochism disguised as "education." We will eventually realize that society itself is the scene of much of the horror we experience daily. Fiction simply allows us to discuss that horror as if it weren't so. Diana Turney is instructing her children. Along with that a certain level of contempt is operating. "And what sound does a pig make, class?" she asks. Picking on Lloyd Brandt, she asks, "Can you tell us Lloyd?" Immediately a scowl. Children don't scowl if they are happy. Here is evidence, as if you needed any, that Diana is abusive. Disch's artistry kicks in, "a small rodent might regard an object in nature that happened to have the shape of an owl or a fox." The Gothic bestiary has arrived in that scowl. Disch's commentary, that Diana meant no harm overlooks the fact that teacher and students are naturally enemies. "Does a pig cluck-cluck, Lloyd?"
Down the list she goes, "does it moo?"Then tell us, "Oink!" finally emerges from Lloyd's mouth. The ruler goes up, demanding silence. The ruler or the cane, either one can offer pain if necessary. Diana had already worked out a bestiary for her children: Cheryl Sondergard, the hen; some bovine and pigs also in the room, but they remain nameless. The lesson presses on. "What about a farm? Have any of you visited a farm here in Minnesota?" And because people are no longer living close to nature, farm life remains alien to many. "Farm animals were mythical creatures." Cheryl was asked, "Do you know where chickens come from?" She had been singled out. She was irritated. She was not happy. It was not a good day.
In all innocence, if you asked these kids, "Where do hamburgers come from?" the answer was sure to be "McDonald's." When Ms Turney explained the connection between Old McDonald's farm and the McDonald's in the shopping mall, the children were amazed. The children really didn't want to know how terrible butchering animals can be for not only animals but also for humans who think about it. Better avoid the whole topic, n'est-ce pas?
Horror: "When steers and cows are old enough they are sent away to the place where they are cut up and sliced up and dismembered, and that's where we get roast beef, and sausage, and steak." It was precisely at this point that Earl Wagner raised his hand: "Ms. Turney are you a vegetarian?" To wrap up this scene, Disch introduces Sue Wong, the only Chinese student in the school. She wants to be excused because after a lunch of chicken chow mein, three bean salad, and a Milky Way candy bar she needs to vomit. It's a nice touch. The classroom really sucks.
A volte mi capita di non sapere se un libro mi sia piaciuto o meno. Questa è una di quelle volte. Quando lasci il libro e pensi "mmm carino" e finisce lì. La storia promette bene ma, complice una traduzione non proprio perfetta e alcuni avvenimenti troppo repentini, si trasforma un po' in un baraccone.
Diana Turney (che a volte diventa Diana Turner o Dana... ahi ahi le correzioni di bozze poco attente) è una supplente elementare abbastanza tranquilla e remissiva. In seguito al licenziamento si trasferisce dal cognato per accudire la nipotina, mentre la mamma, sorella di Diana, è in carcere per tentato omicidio. Qui Diana si trasforma improvvisamente in strega, e intendo proprio improvvisamente. Dall'oggi al domani, senza nessuna avvisaglia, nessun turbamento interiore, nessuna metamorfosi progressiva del carattere. Solamente uno strano olezzo che gli altri sentono. Insomma Diana diventa in una notte una strega perfida e sanguinaria, capace di trasformare le persone in animali. Preso atto di queste veloci trasformazioni, e senza porci ulteriori domande, il racconto prosegue in maniera coerente e spedita, arrivando ad una conclusione che comunque lascia abbastanza soddisfatti. La Strega è l'ultimo libro di una quadrilogia ambientata in un Minnesota magico. In Italia sono stati pubblicati però solo tre libri: Il Taumaturgo (S&K), Il Prete (Fanucci) e quest'ultimo La Strega (Fanucci) tutti di difficile reperibilità in italiano.
Niesamowite, jak bardzo skomplikowane są tutaj postacie i relacje, jak osoba, której najpierw kibicuję staje się tą złą, a podłym padalcom nagle zaczynam współczuć. Mistrzostwo, choć nieco przygnębiające, a końcówka trochę się ciągnęła
It's not a perfect book. The ending does not work as well as the slow set up the author takes but it is an enjoyable tale of a woman becoming a serial killer with magical powers.
The Sub may be my least favorite of the Supernatural Minnesota series, but that speaks volumes to the series’ overall quality. The protagonist, follows more in the footsteps of The M.D. rather than The Businessman or The Priest. The last two deal with protagonists who are beset by supernatural forces and then have to react to them, while the titular M.D. in the other novel and Diana Turney, the substitute teacher in this book, find themselves entrusted with supernatural powers that they then quickly prove incapable of handling. Much like the preceding novels, this is not a pat retelling of an old myth or fairytale, but a multi-faceted and highly allusive story that draws on everything from Hansel and Gretel, Greek mythology, and even throws in a passing reference to Marion-Zimmer Bradley’s Mists of Avalon. Though it doesn’t quite maintain the high-point that Disch reached in The Priest, it is still a very strong note for the series to end on.
It has its moments, but ultimately it outstays its welcome by at least a hundred pages. It's too long for what it is. And the story felt disjointed, as if several crucial chapters were missing. How exactly did Diana realize she was a witch? Was it just because she accidentally changed Tommy W. into a deer by accidentally calling him "dear"? That seems pretty silly. Was it somehow because of her father's spirit? It's unclear, and when I was about halfway through, I just stopped caring.