I’d heard about Katherine Dunn’s Geek Love long before I ever decided to read it. It was the kind of book that gets talked about with tones of respect from other writers, especially Mark Askwith, who would say You have to read Geek Love! I’d also heard that it’s one of Chuck Palahniuk’s favourite books and after reading a few chapters it is not hard to see why.
Geek Love is about a family of circus freaks and geeks, whose parents strike on a golden idea, experimenting with chemicals and radioactive substances during pregnancy to give their kids the special “gifts” they need to support themselves in the carnival life. Our narrator Olympia is an albino dwarf hunchback, but this alone is not enough to make her special in a family which includes Arturo, the flipper-handed Aqua-Boy; Illy and Ephy, the Siamese Twins; and later Chick, who can move things with his mind.
Never before have I had such a visceral reaction to reading a book. I read during meals, and this is the only book I’ve read that has made me feel sick to have food in my mouth nearly every time I picked it up. That’s some powerful words! And yet as I was disgusted, I was compelled to keep reading. That’s the real trick of this book, is that it keeps you caring about the characters just to find out how awful things will turn out.
Geek Love dares you to empathize with monsters basically, people in extraordinary circumstances, turning the knife on what we call normal. It’s one of the things I like about Barbara Gowdy in this respect, who asks you to feel for necrophiliacs and more recently, child abductors.
You can see the roots of Palahniuk’s fiction in this book; his Invisible Monsters for one, the massive cults of Fight Club for another. But most of all, I think the lesson of Geek Love is not to limit yourself while writing; but to take your premise to its logical extreme. This is something I also heard from Susanna Clarke, a lesson she got from Neil Gaiman. (Why NOT just kick everybody out of Hell and see what happens?) When you’re writing, don’t hold back on the scope of your story. Push your imaginative world to the most fantastic depths. Books like this show that a reader who empathizes with your character and their ambitions will follow them all the way.


It’s winter. It’s time to go underground. Retreat a little. Let the sap slow. So. I picked it up. LoGA is a collection of short-stories by Susanna Clarke, a sequel of sorts to her massive 18th century dualing magician romp Jonathan Strange and Mr. Norrell. This new book is set in the same England, and focuses on elements that got left out of that story, and at the end you realize that it is a lot more of a magical place than you thought. Reminiscent of the best of Neil Gaiman, although I would say that she surpasses him in what she has done with prose. The stories are written in a number of different styles, from more reserved Jane-Austen style voice to a Robbie-Burns Scottish dialect. This book focuses more on the world of faerie, which proves to be consistently capricious, alien, curious, fragile and deadly. It’s so strange imagining Emma-like heroines running into these majesterial creatures, but quite enjoyable. My favourite story in the bunch is The Adventures of Tom and David, about a fairy lord and a Jewish doctor who go on adventures, and debate their distinct points of view through the English countryside. Both come from an ancient tradition, one with a moral tradition, the other decidedly without.
