The NYC Underbelly

The Fuck Up by Arthur Nersesian

If the title of this, Arthur Nersesian's first novel, didn't give you a clue to the story that lay within, I don't know what would. "The Fuck-Up" really does say it all. Now that's not to say that the novel is in any way a train wreck, but the main character certainly comes close.
Through the eyes of this anonymous 23 year old male, the reader experiences - sometimes all too closely - the gritty underbelly of New York City.
The main character is reckless in a way very few are. Landing himself in increasingly bizarre situations based on chance encounters and overheard conversations, he takes opportunities anywhere he can get them. The world has hope and promise. And yet, just as easily as these glorious opportunities are found, they can be lost, sending him spiraling into an ever darker and more tangled web of lies, deceit and ruin. In short, he pretty royally f's things up.

The novel does well to depict an unglamourized view of the city, and urban living, with everything from the troubles of paying for emergency health care, to prejudices on sexual preference. You really get a taste for both New York itself, and the hardships it's citizens endure. Where the novel fails to impress, and what ultimately solidified the 2 star "it was okay" rating, was character.

Though sometimes pitiable, the character failed to truly pull my attentions, or better yet my emotions. I was astounded by the guts he had to take the opportunities he did throughout the narrative, but aside from that, when hardships arose, I found myself thinking well, what did you expect? Shady dealings lead to unfortunate outcomes in a way that had to be obvious from the start. It was easily annoying. Similarly, friendships lovers and coworkers fell flat in ways that although relatively believable, made it hard to attach to anyone, and therefore left little interest or remorse when it came to the general outcome of the character's lives.

Both hailed as a masterpiece by cult fans, and criticized by the wider public, The Fuck-Up has both it's merits and downfalls. Depicting the feel of NYC with acute precision, it's all about whether you can deal with the antics of a self-ruining 23 year old, or if, like me, you just want to give him a good shake and tell him to get a grip in his life. You make the call.

The Ghost Brush

The Printmaker's Daughter by Katherine Govier
In theory, The Ghost Brush, by Katherine Govier (which was evidentially later renamed 'The Printmaker's Daughter') had all the ingredients for a great story. An interesting and troublesome setting, relationships fraught with twisted ideals if love, duty, honor and dependency - rebellion, subversion, defiance, art, prostitution, poetry - everything was there. And yet...
Frankly the novel was rather boring. I liked Oei, the main character: painter, tomboy and devoted second hand to her somewhat dictator father. I also like Shino, the graceful sophisticated courtesan who is both mother and sister to the wayward young girl. The Old Man, Hokusai, around which the story truly revolves, is similarly intriguing in flawed, curious in both his genius, madness love and distinct lack there of for his family. And that is all well and good, but interest in a character only goes so far, an 'liking' an individual is but the first step for the reader. Readers want- they need- to care. Become invested. Feel.

Despite everything that seemed to set th novel up otherwise, I felt no connection to the characters. Sorrows took place, triumphs, hardships.. Friends and lovers came and went, and yet the mood and tone if the narrative seemed to remain the same - steadily unattached - throughout.

I am a painter, a writer and a lover of books. The context if the story could not be better suited, as the narrative follows the life of a painter and his artist comrades who toil on despite the looming punishments and restrictions of the Shogun & bakufu of early 19th century Japan, and yet I found myself as a reader struggling to connect.

Luckily, I was familiar with the historical context at least, having once upon a time studied Modern Asian History. Thus the important of Edo in the 1800's and the implications of the Shogun spies held further weight in the story, but it seemed there was a distinct disconnect between the history surrounding the novel and the way it was portrayed to the reader. Even having studied the terms and treaties I found myself unclear at times, and Govier seemed to work under a sense of assumption rather than explaining - even if only with regards to her characters - properly what it meant to love in Japan in those days.

That is not, of course, to say that all was for naught, merely thT that characters presented were not fully explored. The very fact that I wished to be let in to the lives of Oei, Shini and Hokusai suggests the merits of their character, but by not allowing the reader to dive into them as they read, the reader losses interest over time.

Similarly, though plot need not always be presented chronologically, the manner in which the characters move forward in time and space is disjointed at times, presenting information much later as only when the situation directly calls for it rather than laying a ground work of setting and understanding which the reader can build on as they progress through the story.

By no means a failure, The Ghost Brush stings more of unfulfilled potential - much in the way Oei remains an untapped well of talent - merely allowing for glimpses of that brilliance here and there, while keeping the rest concealed and hidden from any would-be audience. Picturesque, but lacking colour, The Ghost Brush is but the outline of a drawing, still waiting for the pigments to be filled in.


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