As the two reveal--and revel in--their obsessive desires, Homes creates in The End of Alice a novel that is part romance, part horror story, at once unnerving and seductive. She would have to say that, while it is sweet, while it is tender, it is simply not enough; nothing more than the stuff of a lovely brooch, a modern sculpture to be worn by the envious have-nots. As such, the style and content of each review will vary. So far the book pretty much fails to engage me. As the two reveal—and revel in—their obsessive desires, Homes creates in The End of Alice a novel that is part romance, part horror story, at once unnerving and seductive. The End of Alice is the story of both the narrator and the girl, but all of it is seen through the narrator's eyes.
Your asking why did you read this? They are depraved and vampiric, but they are also exceptional and other. Slowly, through these letters, the narrator's dangerous character emerges. It feels weird to give a book like this, one with such a horrible subject matter, a five star rating -- but the truth is, Homes did such an excellent job with this. I like to read something shocking. Then, too, over the course of time, my keepers have changed two, three, and four times, subject to varieties of administrations, the warming and cooling of the social climate, etc.
Admiro su capacidad de hurgar en los lugares más oscuros de la sociedad, de darle voz a los que no la merecen, una voz odiosamente elocuente. But she's just a blank. I thought this book was excellent but, for obvious reasons, it is one I would hesitate to actually recommend. She sees this little one but is neither amused nor interested—too wiggly. The author uses words, and words, and more words, and even more words, to no avail. Made me want to vomit. So obviously, after reading the summary, and the reviews, I felt like I just needed to see if it was all true.
The major conflict I keep going through in my head was this: did this book really need to be written? Women who are all confused, mentally unstable and afraid of the world and themselves. How could it go one without me us — is that too narcissistic a mind? It may not have been the most 'enjoyable' reading experience, but the author's skill in creating these characters and making the story such compelling reading took my breath away. I couldn't stop reading even though at one point I almost had trouble breathing. As the novel nears its conclusion, Chappy is brought twice before the committee of three, who present him with glossy police photos of Alice. My room, housed in a wing known only as West, has not been redecorated for ninety-seven years. To view it, Ew, that was a yucky experience, but why exactly? Extremely well written, but this may be the most disturbing book I have ever read.
The author knows how to write beautifully and bring a world to life around you. He starts to receive letters from a 19-year-old girl who believes she is developing a sexual predilection for young boys, and intends to act on this obsession, preying on a neighbour's 12-year-old son. Indeed, Alice is highly complicitous; she climbs into the narrator's bed, feels him up, asks him to hurt her or so the narrator claims. Director Rose Troche's film adaptation of The Safety of Objects was released in 2003, and Troche is currently developing In A Country of Mothers as well. Nos desviamos porque la norma es aburrida, porque la sordidez de la depravación es más atractiva, más excitante. If you expect that Homes is going to come in and make you feel ok about the sickening slurry of horror-arousal you may feel throughout this book by shivving the main charachter, she wont.
It bothered them that I had fans—and I still do—but at some point it was acknowledged, supported by research, that we are not a kind to operate in groups, tribes, or packs. It is, in fact, difficult to distinguish between what the girl is acually telling the narrator, and what he is embellishing in his own mind: it is certainly clear that he often fantasises about her, living vicariously through her stories. Here is the incredible story of an imprisoned pedophile who is drawn into an erotically charged correspondence with a nineteen-year-old suburban coed. The End of Alice is the story of both the narrator and the girl, but all of it is seen through the narrator's eyes. Six-to-eight hours is a long time to spend with a vile creature. The description on the back cover does not even begin to describe what this story is about.
The writing style is well done and the pacing flows nicely. If you are expecting something thrilling or shocking, then don't go for this novel; other than making you feel uncomfortable at times, it doesn't do much else. From her letter it is clear that she has been looking for years, searching out the places where all variety and versions of her chosen kind are on display, where one can browse, where it is easy to shop unnoticed. Frazier, the sergeant calls, and Frazier, my next-door neighbor, answers, So what about it? What these imaginings reveal is that, for the narrator, everyone—man and woman, adult and child—is sexmad; only his grandmother unless I missed something seems exempt. The content though -- if you're looking for something that sickens you to the stomach, this one will do the trick. Well yes, but not to that extent.
It is stunningly effective, and very moving if you are up to its bracing, in-your-face narrative. Alice to him was special and something out of this world almost like she wasn't real. This novel was definitely erotic and it will definitely make you feel uncomfortable. A statement, a simple speech, a song and dance that will set them straight, an incandescent incantation, a charming presentation, a shoe of sorts, the show of shows, it's the only chance I've got. But then the story evolves into something terrible, horrible. The main characters of this fiction, horror story are ,.
What drew me to this particular offering, this large flat envelope—I find significance in the page not folded, the document of such value that it cannot be tampered with, altered to fit through the thin slot of a mailbox, that its contents are of such import that they need be taken by hand to the postmaster and left in his care for quickest delivery—what interested me about this well-typed tome was the willingness of its author to transcend, to flirt, outside her chosen category or group. Pero los límites existen: el límite moral generalmente se conjuga con el límite legal. So 3 stars, because I'm not liking it at all, but since those scabs and blood stains are going to stay in my mind for some time — lets say I'm fucking impressed. What are you, a pervert? Here I quote her directly, somewhat unsure of exactly what is described, but imagining something akin to a unicycle. If however you can muster the strength and read it, it will be one of the creepiest books you ever touch and you will get a better idea of the subject in general. While he was buried deep in a muff, some sharp thing slipped, and his prize patient, Mrs Mavis Gilette, woke to find a harpoon hole in her cheek and her lost licker languishing on the floor. I think there are a few points made in the book, but this is a key one for me: We pretend that children aren't sexualised, aren't fucked up in their own ways, don't have any role in these situations.
The main characters are two demented pedophiles, one in prison and one writing to him. And while I have largely been forgotten or dismissed by my keepers—no doubt due to my advancing age—the mail still arrives with astonishing regularity. Esta es una pregunta que nadie, salvo psicólogos y neurólogos, quiere hacerse. And this is what makes her a truly great writer. Homes: She is one brave writer. The narrator of this book is a convicted paedophile, serving a life sentence in prison.