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A review by toryhallelujah
Hell by Robert Olen Butler
3.0
This is a satirical book built on a surrealistic framework, veering into obnoxious intellect at times (some serious verbosity and yes, we get it, you think Bush Jr. is a moron), but an interesting read with some memorable quotes. It wasn't riveting and I could have set it aside, but it's short enough that I stuck it out, and I'm not unhappy that I did.
----
I'm still pondering the idea of Heaven as being a place where one is completely alone. Initially, I was appalled, and got all self-righteous and demanded an explanation, but the explanation is THERE and it holds up:
"He's forgetting the ones in Hell. In Heaven, there's no place for the memories of the damned. They have been judged. They have been placed where they belong in their own torment. The sharp shards of them that still stick in you are things that need to be plucked out. They would only fester. They are the sins of the world. They are the pain and the suffering and the imperfections and they are fading away, happily so, happily happily happily. Hatcher is forgetting everyone."
It all does make sense, which is ...kind of weirdly reassuring? But it's then followed directly afterward by a confusing encounter with his dad, which I felt like I totally didn't understand (did I miss something?) and then the end of the book seems like it's supposed to inform the rest of the book, which begs a reread, but I don't WANT to reread the whole thing -- so I'm not a fan of that storytelling strategy in this case.
---
Other favorite lines:
"And in the thoroughfares, stretches of mugger darkness are broken by rotten-orange oases of sodium vapor lamps that fill all the twenty-first-century dead with the sadness of interstate rest stops." p.14
"Anne is silent for a moment, and then she says, 'Well, January is the kindest month. The world outside you fits what's inside. It's a grim place, the world, but it's the world. At least you're not a freak, at least you're part of it.'" p. 212
----
I'm still pondering the idea of Heaven as being a place where one is completely alone. Initially, I was appalled, and got all self-righteous and demanded an explanation, but the explanation is THERE and it holds up:
"He's forgetting the ones in Hell. In Heaven, there's no place for the memories of the damned. They have been judged. They have been placed where they belong in their own torment. The sharp shards of them that still stick in you are things that need to be plucked out. They would only fester. They are the sins of the world. They are the pain and the suffering and the imperfections and they are fading away, happily so, happily happily happily. Hatcher is forgetting everyone."
It all does make sense, which is ...kind of weirdly reassuring? But it's then followed directly afterward by a confusing encounter with his dad, which I felt like I totally didn't understand (did I miss something?) and then the end of the book seems like it's supposed to inform the rest of the book, which begs a reread, but I don't WANT to reread the whole thing -- so I'm not a fan of that storytelling strategy in this case.
---
Other favorite lines:
"And in the thoroughfares, stretches of mugger darkness are broken by rotten-orange oases of sodium vapor lamps that fill all the twenty-first-century dead with the sadness of interstate rest stops." p.14
"Anne is silent for a moment, and then she says, 'Well, January is the kindest month. The world outside you fits what's inside. It's a grim place, the world, but it's the world. At least you're not a freak, at least you're part of it.'" p. 212