The Flame Alphabet

The premise and idea for this book sounded very interesting. Also it was on Goodreads Movers & Shakers list in January.

But this kind of literary fiction with more philosophy than sf is just not my thing. It reminds me the most in style of [b:Never Let Me Go|6334|Never Let Me Go|Kazuo Ishiguro|http://photo.goodreads.com/books/1348918885s/6334.jpg|1499998], so if you liked it you will probably like this one too.

Me? I gave up after 15%. Sorry, maybe it is good, but it's not for me. ( )

Give me [b:Finnegans Wake|11013|Finnegans Wake|James Joyce|http://d.gr-assets.com/books/1336408055s/11013.jpg|322098] any day and let me die a slow and tortured death in the service of squiggles of meaningful meaninglessness and meaningless meaningfulness.

Michael Chabon, on his laudatory back blurb, recites a litany of authors/artists whose work can be rightly compared to this deeply unsettling book. Kafka, Mary Shelley, David Lynch, and so forth. But there are two more I could like to submit.

The first being Don DeLillo. He is eminent as a skilled craftsman of novels, the word-guilder of postmodern Americana. Some themes of his works include the saturation of the media into our very thoughts, satire of the diseases which infest our own thinking and actions in this era of crisis.

Contrast Marcus. DeLillo speaks of black comedy, of the problems of oversaturation, white noise. A constant low rumble which one cannot ever really escape from. Marcus has the problem of silence, of no language at all, the other extreme. And thus we turn to the other name.

http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-E-yKBy5-8pw/T6QbkeJxZ6I/AAAAAAAAG_A/yFWkqa-YNts/s1600/wittgenstein.jpg

This man, Ludwig Wittgenstein. Tortured soul, philosopher of language, the teachings of St. Ludwig of Vienna are seen at work here.

One of the seven defining aphorisms found in this early work, The Tractatus Logico-Philosiphus, reads as follows "Of what we cannot speak, we must pass over in silence," might have a corollary or an interpretation which applies to this novel. If there is no language, there are no ideas, or things.

Anyways, here's where I'm going with this stuffy name-dropping. This is a very scary book. It works on multiple levels. There is the visceral, gut-punching feeling of horror, and there is the internal horror of this little philosophical problem. This novel combines both. The idea of a sudden spreading illness is one factor, but this additional factor of being stripped of language, of thought, of communication, is leaving a world where everyone is very alone. This is deeply frightening. Marcus does a remarkable job conveying this, no doubt aware of telling this story as a book, and not as a movie, say.

Damn it, this book is really scary.

4.5 stars. ( )

I really struggled with how to rate this, because I was so ambivalent while reading it. There were sections I loved and sections that I really had to work to get through. The plot is so unique and such an interesting concept: an apocalyptic book in which the epidemic is language itself. Children's speech becomes toxic to adults, and problem spreads as other forms of communication (writing, sign language) become harmful as well.

This book has a lot to say about interpersonal relationships, because really, without a way to communicate aren't we really all alone? It's really interesting to see how people adapt and continue their lives while on the brink of death, without so much as making eye contact with their loved ones. I especially liked the portrayal of Esther, the teenage daughter, and I think Marcus's goal with this book may have been to explore that alienation between the generations. Right, it hurts when your kids get too cool for you and diss all your interests and stay out all night, but what if being close to them is literally killing you? Sometimes I felt like I was being hit over the head with metaphor, and at others I thought it seemed too obvious and maybe I just didn't get it.

A few more issues:

I found the concept of the Forest Jews intriguing, but I wish we were given more information about their history and culture. The different, future form of Judaism just didn't really make sense to me in the context of the novel and I don't understand what point Marcus was trying to make. First it seemed the Jews were being blamed and persecuted in a Neo-Holocaust type scenario, then it seemed like the Jews were the answer to stopping the virus, then it all just sort of fizzled out. I don't get it.

Also, the main character, Sam, seems to be having an identity crisis throughout most of the book. He starts out being like an everyman father character but then becomes, in short order, an expert chemist, biologist, linguist, and spelunker. Can you say Marty Stu?

I did really like elements of this, though! The prose is absolutely beautiful. Marcus creates some wonderfully creepy imagery, and has a real gift for showing human nature -- the good, the bad, and the ugly -- especially in such an alien environment. For example, this book contains probably the least sexy sex scenes ever written, but they're extremely powerful. I have a feeling this might be one of those books that lodges itself in my brain and I like more in retrospect, purely for the memorability factor. ( )

Okay, tell me if you've heard this one before...

The setting: a dystopian world that almost mirrors our own.
The protagonist: a confused man who can't decide if he is a rebel or a minion.
The antagonist: the mysterious operative who is about as frightening as a Chicken McNugget. No, less frightening than a Chicken McNugget.
The girl in the cross-fire: well, she doesn't really matter any way, she's just there for effect.
The plot: “they” are out to get you. Be careful what you say, it can kill you.

You want to know my thoughts on The Flame Alphabet? Read my review of 1984. I'd hate to have to repeat myself and it's all pretty much there.

What's different? Well, the concept is wonderful! Perhaps in 1948, the concept of 1984 was original, but it is no longer. The Flame Alphabet, however, carries so much promise in its description. Imagine, a world where children's voices are poisonous. Oh the horrors that we can draw: people shooting children in the streets, mothers aborting their fetuses. Oh the heart strings we can tug at: fathers crumpling under the weight of “I love you, daddy”s, families having to abandon the child they fought so hard to conceive. Oh the social commentaries we can make: commentaries on aging and parenting and the power of language. So much potential! None of it is tapped. Instead what happens in these 304 pages is not much of anything.

As with 1984, the biggest problem that faces this work is that the characters are as multi-dimensional and as affective as cardboard. Perhaps this is just my hang-up. Truth be told, I could appreciate a well-written novel that is boring as hell as long as the humans in it resemble humans. But in so much of this dystopian fiction that often appeals largely to guys there is no semblance of emotion. Perhaps I just left my guy card on the gay bus. Or I missed the writing class where I was supposed to learn about the effect of writing emotionless characters. I will admit that I'm in the minority. I just cannot understand what makes this kind of writing so popular. *Potential spoiler alert* For crying out loud, the man has lost his daughter and his wife and he wastes no time in banging his coworkers. Over and over and over and over and over again. Oh, here's your wife, Sam. 'That's nice, let me just finish with Marta here.' *End alert*

There seems to be a bit of symbolism in The Flame Alphabet; at least, that's what I hope all that Jewish stuff is. If I liked the story, I'd probably take the time to decipher it. But I didn't. So I won't.

The Flame Alphabet: Language can kill. How clever. It certainly can. ( )