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A review by zoes_human
Perishables by Michael G. Williams
adventurous
4.0
UPDATE 2020 REREAD
In response to the COVID-19 epidemic, the author created a podcast called Social Distancing Radio, in which he—at the request of a friend and long-time reader—read this book to create something familiar and safe in a time of stress. As a long-time reader and friend of his, I found this reading tremendously comforting. The unpolished rawness of it made it feel almost as though I were at a live author reading.
(You can find the podcast here: https://www.robustmcmanlypants.org/socialdistancingradio/)
ORIGINAL REVIEW
Perishables develops tension in a highly effective manner which makes use of its division into three parts (each of which can be considered a story in of itself). It begins with a sort of lighthearted zombie romp with a hint of darkness. I had several moments of laughing out loud and needing to explain myself to others. In part 2, the tone shifts to a balanced blend of equal parts humor and tension. While there was less laughter, there were plenty of smiles and moments of genuine concern for the well-being of the characters. It finishes with the kind of intensity that found me frozen completely upright and holding my breath.
There are many wonderful little details which allowed me to connect with the supernatural universe in this novel. I was somewhat reminded of the way Ridley Scott uses tiny realistic touches to give a sense of concreteness to his fantastic worlds.
I almost hate to say this last bit of praise, because it's a sad statement that it shouldn't be the norm. However, it isn't in most media, and it most certainly isn't typical of this genre. I was thrilled to find myself reading about a woman who was neither a helpless stereotype of femininity nor an idolized and often pornesque heroine("Up on a pedestal or down on her knees, it's all a male fantasy."-Margaret Atwood). She didn't fuss or moan about her hair, clothes or makeup. She didn't wail and worry about her romantic life. She had one, but it was simply a part of her life not her reason for being and not a focal point of the story. She was just a person, and I loved it.
And lest I forget, this author owes me 1.5 hours of sleep I missed because I was too involved in the book.
In response to the COVID-19 epidemic, the author created a podcast called Social Distancing Radio, in which he—at the request of a friend and long-time reader—read this book to create something familiar and safe in a time of stress. As a long-time reader and friend of his, I found this reading tremendously comforting. The unpolished rawness of it made it feel almost as though I were at a live author reading.
(You can find the podcast here: https://www.robustmcmanlypants.org/socialdistancingradio/)
ORIGINAL REVIEW
Perishables develops tension in a highly effective manner which makes use of its division into three parts (each of which can be considered a story in of itself). It begins with a sort of lighthearted zombie romp with a hint of darkness. I had several moments of laughing out loud and needing to explain myself to others. In part 2, the tone shifts to a balanced blend of equal parts humor and tension. While there was less laughter, there were plenty of smiles and moments of genuine concern for the well-being of the characters. It finishes with the kind of intensity that found me frozen completely upright and holding my breath.
There are many wonderful little details which allowed me to connect with the supernatural universe in this novel. I was somewhat reminded of the way Ridley Scott uses tiny realistic touches to give a sense of concreteness to his fantastic worlds.
I almost hate to say this last bit of praise, because it's a sad statement that it shouldn't be the norm. However, it isn't in most media, and it most certainly isn't typical of this genre. I was thrilled to find myself reading about a woman who was neither a helpless stereotype of femininity nor an idolized and often pornesque heroine("Up on a pedestal or down on her knees, it's all a male fantasy."-Margaret Atwood). She didn't fuss or moan about her hair, clothes or makeup. She didn't wail and worry about her romantic life. She had one, but it was simply a part of her life not her reason for being and not a focal point of the story. She was just a person, and I loved it.
And lest I forget, this author owes me 1.5 hours of sleep I missed because I was too involved in the book.