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Choke:
Review:
"Caustic" isn't the right word, but its the only one
that comes to mind. From the author of "fight club",
"survivor" and "invisible monsters", choke
is "a stupid story about a stupid little boy," or so
says the first chapter. Victor mancini emerges from a childhood
of searing terror and wonder under the tutelage of a deranged
and extremely socially conscious mother. His adulthood is the
story of Victor as drop-out med student, a paid employee of historical
re-enactment and a sexaholic.
Victor supports his mother’s institutional living costs
with self-employment of a most unusual kind: choking. The idea
is to be rescued while choking and the benefactor will feel responsible
(economically) for the well-being of the victim for the rest of
their life. The sub-stories that unfold around victor's life and
conception are surprising.
P alahniuk's prose is sharp, rhythmical and weighted. Palahniuk
has all the makings for a cult hero. Choke explores adulthood,
sex and the anti-hero in a satirical, humorous way. "Funny"
isn't the right word, but it's the only one that comes to mind.
Review by Mary Abshire
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Survivor:

Review:
The
messy plot of Survivor (the second book by the author of the cult
novel Fight Club) is redeemed by surreally outrageous satire. As
Survivor begins, our hero, Tender Branson, has hijacked a plane
that he intends to crash into the Australian outback. By the end
of the book, one can hardly blame him. In chapters and pages numbered
backward, we follow Branson from his childhood in a death cult through
a period of loneliness after the cult commits suicide and into cynical
superstardom as a kind of guru/ evangelist. Palahniuk throws way
too much into this brief novel, including a Kevorkianesque suicide
hotline and a murderous twin brother. Nevertheless, there's real
brilliance in the tension between his faux-innocent language and
the wry nihilistic bleakness of his protagonist's gaudy odyssey.
Review by Michelle Goldberg |
Invisible
Monsters:

Review:
Chuck Palahniuk, author of "Fight Club," just doesn't
look at the world like most people, and he doesn't cut his readers
any slack. His characters are complicated and their lives disturbing.
If you are looking for light entertainment and a storybook ending,
avoid Palahniuk at all costs. If you want to be challenged by re-examining
estimations of beauty and ugliness, dissecting the complications
of gender and relationships, and meet characters you aren't sure
whether to hate or sympathize with, then read his work. It's as
satisfying as something you know you really shouldn't eat, but it's
just too good not to.
Watching her friend-enemy bleed to death, a woman whose name you
shouldn't know unless you read the book says, "It's not that
I am detached lab animal conditioned to ignore violence, but my
first inclination is maybe it's not to late to dab club soda on
the bloodstain… What I tell myself is that shotgunning anyone
in this room would be the moral equivalent of killing a car, a vacuum
cleaner, a Barbie doll. Erasing a computer disk. Burning a book.
Perhaps that goes for killing anybody in the world. We're all such
products."
by Carla Field |