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thebobsphere's review
3.0
For some strange reason, reding Licorice reminded me of two films : Keith Fulton’s Lost in La Mancha , Daniel Myrick’s The Blair Witch Project and Spike Jonze’s Adaptation. Both are about the problems which occur when directing a film. Licorice’s loose plot also touches upon this aspect of filmaking.
The book is about a group of friends trying to film a documentary about a village legend but it doesn’t quite work out that way. Two of the cast members have a highly physical relationship and are ruining the film while another two are not on speaking terms. The protagonist’s are not so sure about the film’s subject and then the film world starts to merge with the real one, with scenes from horror films occurring during filming . By the end it all descends into chaos.
However as important as the plot is, Licorice’s real focus is the language. The book is a verbal waterfall. It’s a monologue but one stuffed with film techniques, rhetorical questions, obscure movie references. There’s a blink and you’ll miss it quality to the writing. Saying that, despite the confusion there is a playful aspect which makes this book quite an original read. It may not be for everyone but I can guarantee that reading Licorice was a one of a kind experience.
Many thanks to Book Works for providing a copy of Licorice.
The book is about a group of friends trying to film a documentary about a village legend but it doesn’t quite work out that way. Two of the cast members have a highly physical relationship and are ruining the film while another two are not on speaking terms. The protagonist’s are not so sure about the film’s subject and then the film world starts to merge with the real one, with scenes from horror films occurring during filming . By the end it all descends into chaos.
However as important as the plot is, Licorice’s real focus is the language. The book is a verbal waterfall. It’s a monologue but one stuffed with film techniques, rhetorical questions, obscure movie references. There’s a blink and you’ll miss it quality to the writing. Saying that, despite the confusion there is a playful aspect which makes this book quite an original read. It may not be for everyone but I can guarantee that reading Licorice was a one of a kind experience.
Many thanks to Book Works for providing a copy of Licorice.
arirang's review
3.0
I first encountered the publisher Book Works through the 2020 Republic of Consciousness Prize and the longlisted Aliasing (https://www.goodreads.com/review/show/3158078057), which was the last in their Semina series of nine experimental novels, books that "demonstrate total disregard for the conventions that structure received ideas about fiction."
The first book in that series was by Bridget Penney and her latest novel Licorice, which I came to via the excellent Republic of Consciousness Book Club, kicks off a new series, Interstices, for which Penney is also the commissioning editor:
See here https://soundcloud.com/book-works/interstices-w-bridget-penney-and-lizzie-homersham (43 minutes 30 seconds on) for a reading from the novel.
Licorice revolves around four characters, the eponymous Licorice (a nickname as an approximation to her name, which, she tells us, her English acquaintances find unpronouncable), Pete, Roy and Angie (the last two have just split up as a couple). Pete and Licorice have planned a film about a legendary 14th century (in their telling) figure from the South Downs, Nan Kemp, within but subverting the folk horror genre.
From a couple of internet sites on the legend:
Licorice - her nationality never disclosed but others describe her as 'Asian' and a 'Chinese girl', her character perhaps a nod to Maggie Cheung in Irma Vep (see below) - lives in (in her friends' views slightly exaggerated) fear of deportation and exists in the shadow economy (with a coincidental link to the last book I read, Ali Smith's Summer):
Heart a little bit in my mouth every time the door goes or the phone rings. Which is silly I know there are loads of people who've overstayed longer than I have so why should they target me but it isn't a situation where logic applies I've read horror stories about the detention centres and I wouldn't be eligible for asylum there's nothing I'm escaping from I just don't want to go back. Because here is my home now.
And that links to the theme of the conservatism of folk horror, such as in this exchange between Pete, a Scot, and Licorice (the lack of marking of who is talking or narrating characteristic of the text):
English horror, not British. Sorry? English horror roots itself in the land, celebrating its muck and grooving on the old ultraviolence. People cling dumbly to traditions because they are things they've always done not because there's anything good about them. No one makes any attempt to understand why they act the way they do. They look on anything new, anyone from outside, with fear and suspicion. Any 'different' element entering an English horror film has to be consumed before it can threaten their 'way of life'. With a subset where it's necessary to consume the stranger in order for that way of life to carry on. He coughed like a shard of crisp had got stuck in his throat then gave me a shrewd look. I smiled to acknowledge I was getting his drift. And Scottish horror is different how exactly Pete? It's not all that different. Maybe a wee bit more metaphysical.
With a book about a small group (albeit in their 30s and rather more professional) making a film about a local horror story there is a clear nod to the Blair Witch Project (although this is not a movie I've seen), but even there the expectations as to how the story may pan out are subverted. But the book’s blurb suggests there are rather more references:
Unfortunately, even pre-alerted, these other film references were rather lost on me.
2.5 stars for my reading experience - although I suspect it is a much more interesting work than this reader could appreciate.
The first book in that series was by Bridget Penney and her latest novel Licorice, which I came to via the excellent Republic of Consciousness Book Club, kicks off a new series, Interstices, for which Penney is also the commissioning editor:
‘Interstices are very small spaces “standing between” solid objects. Sometimes so minute the eye passes straight over them, yet a beam of light directed through an interstice has the potential to illuminate in an unexpected way. Interstices simultaneously divide and connect what surrounds them. They can be places for distraction, experiment and potentially radical redefinition. An interstice can also be a tiny interval of time, unaccounted for and uncountable, the transitional space at the end of a breath. On the web, interstitials are those annoying pages overlaying the content page you were expecting to reach. On the map, a border or nobody’s land could be visualised as an interstice; whether it’s safe or dangerous will depend on who you are.
Book Works invites proposals for new novels drawing on the ideas suggested by “interstices”.
For instance, my novel Licorice grew out of my conflicted attitude towards “folk horror” and the challenges produced by trying to write radically in an inherently conservative genre.
See here https://soundcloud.com/book-works/interstices-w-bridget-penney-and-lizzie-homersham (43 minutes 30 seconds on) for a reading from the novel.
Licorice revolves around four characters, the eponymous Licorice (a nickname as an approximation to her name, which, she tells us, her English acquaintances find unpronouncable), Pete, Roy and Angie (the last two have just split up as a couple). Pete and Licorice have planned a film about a legendary 14th century (in their telling) figure from the South Downs, Nan Kemp, within but subverting the folk horror genre.
From a couple of internet sites on the legend:
Generations of Kingston boys (and girls) have scared themselves silly by trying to conjure up the ghost of Nan Kemp. Exactly when she lived has got a bit lost in local folklore, but her grisly crime has been handed down (and no doubt elaborated upon) with squeamish relish. Mrs Kemp was said to have murdered her baby and served up the unfortunate infant in a pie for her husband when he came in from the fields. She was in due course hanged and supposedly buried in Kingston's Ashcombe Lane. Local legend said if you ran around her grave three times with your eyes shut her spirit would appear. The exact location of her last resting place also became a little hazy as the years went by, but at the top of Ashcombe Lane is Nan Kemp's Cottage and the grave was always held to be nearby.
http://www.visitoruk.com/Brighton/kingston-by-sea-C592-V5797.html
Local historian Mat Homewood told me about Nan Kemp of Kingston who, in 18th century, murdered her new-born illegitimate child and, in an attempt to hide it placed it in an oven. On being discovered she ran to an adjoining wood-house and hung herself. The Coroner’s Jury returned a verdict of ‘felo de se’ and she was buried at the cross roads near the turnpike gates. In January 1833 workmen digging the road nearby and unearthed what was believed to have been her grave. The story was enhanced and changed from that of a poor depressed woman to ‘an evil witch who cooked her baby and served it up to her husband’
https://sussexhistory.net/2018/04/08/burial-at-a-cross-roads/
Licorice - her nationality never disclosed but others describe her as 'Asian' and a 'Chinese girl', her character perhaps a nod to Maggie Cheung in Irma Vep (see below) - lives in (in her friends' views slightly exaggerated) fear of deportation and exists in the shadow economy (with a coincidental link to the last book I read, Ali Smith's Summer):
Heart a little bit in my mouth every time the door goes or the phone rings. Which is silly I know there are loads of people who've overstayed longer than I have so why should they target me but it isn't a situation where logic applies I've read horror stories about the detention centres and I wouldn't be eligible for asylum there's nothing I'm escaping from I just don't want to go back. Because here is my home now.
And that links to the theme of the conservatism of folk horror, such as in this exchange between Pete, a Scot, and Licorice (the lack of marking of who is talking or narrating characteristic of the text):
English horror, not British. Sorry? English horror roots itself in the land, celebrating its muck and grooving on the old ultraviolence. People cling dumbly to traditions because they are things they've always done not because there's anything good about them. No one makes any attempt to understand why they act the way they do. They look on anything new, anyone from outside, with fear and suspicion. Any 'different' element entering an English horror film has to be consumed before it can threaten their 'way of life'. With a subset where it's necessary to consume the stranger in order for that way of life to carry on. He coughed like a shard of crisp had got stuck in his throat then gave me a shrewd look. I smiled to acknowledge I was getting his drift. And Scottish horror is different how exactly Pete? It's not all that different. Maybe a wee bit more metaphysical.
With a book about a small group (albeit in their 30s and rather more professional) making a film about a local horror story there is a clear nod to the Blair Witch Project (although this is not a movie I've seen), but even there the expectations as to how the story may pan out are subverted. But the book’s blurb suggests there are rather more references:
But Licorice has a secret only Pete knows. 25 Well-worn tropes lifted from films such as The Mask of Satan, The Blair Witch Project and Irma Vep give this narrative about failing to create a narrative its shape.
Unfortunately, even pre-alerted, these other film references were rather lost on me.
2.5 stars for my reading experience - although I suspect it is a much more interesting work than this reader could appreciate.
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