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Our Assessment:
B+ : stylish, and nicely twisted See our review for fuller assessment.
From the Reviews: - Return to top of the page - The complete review's Review: Illustrator Brice Casadamont and the much younger foreign correspondent Emma Loewen are, to everyone -- Brice included -- an unlikely pair, but after a whirlwind romance they got married and have lived happily together since, she frequently jetting off on assignment while he remains sedentary: At first, with every trip, he was afraid he would never see her again but, strangely, she always came back. He had to get used to the idea that she loved him. This was their life, no matter that it raised a few eyebrows. She came and went. He stayed put, persisting in painting unsaleable canvases more out of habit than enjoyment, and earning derisory sums from illustrating deadly dull children's books.Boxes begins with Brice's life all packed away in boxes, waiting for the movers: he and Emma have bought a house in the countryside and are leaving the city, and this is the day of the move. Notably absent: wife Emma, for reasons that are at first unclear -- though when asked: 'What about your wife ? Still no news ?'Hopeful he may be -- assuring the movers: "my wife's joining me" -- but it's soon apparent that the likelihood of Emma coming back into his life are not looking too good. Nevertheless, Brice uproots himself and moves into the huge new house. He's not really thrilled about this, however, and his reluctance manifests itself in his unwillingness to really settle in: he doesn't go about unpacking the boxes but rather just tears into whichever ones he thinks hold whatever he needs at that moment, and he just bunks down in the garage. The in-laws want to be helpful -- encouraging him: "You mustn't let yourself go" -- but their telephone calls don't help him snap out of his funk. Meanwhile, his neighbor Blanche is eager to get to know him better -- though she seems to have issue of her own, and Brice's uncanny resemblance to her father complicates matters further. Garnier beautifully chronicles Brice's descent -- and brief moments when it looks like he might manage to gather himself again, after all -- in his usual laconic, well-turned style. Typically, for example, he suggests at one point: The situation was approaching a question of life or death, which can be a hard one to answer.Brice's own crisis is a solid foundation for Garnier's tale, but the straightforward story-arcs it enables on its own aren't enough for him; he complicates the story, and throws Brice and any possibility of recovery off course with Blanche, whose own backstory only slowly untangles itself in its full horror for Brice (and the reader). Twisting the two fates together, he doesn't allow Brice any easy (or other) route back to any normality; all that is left are ... boxes. Much of the pleasure in every Garnier novel comes with the always jolting yet apposite style. Few writers would conceive or risk passages such as: It was beautiful, and it was sad. It made you want to write a poem, or to shit. He opted for the second.Following his characters in what seem like mundane situations and simple encounters Garnier calmly peels back the revealing layers, leaving a raw sort of horror all the more devastating for its believable simplicity. It is modern grotesque at its best, not forcing it with the quirkily-exceptional but rather showing how it exists in the almost everyday. Boxes is good, dark Garnier-fun, once again. - M.A.Orthofer, 15 September 2015 - Return to top of the page - Boxes:
- Return to top of the page - French author Pascal Garnier lived 1949 to 2010. - Return to top of the page -
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