It is a strange feeling when a book feels both too
long and too short, but Richard Chiem’s first official novel, King of Joy, feel
exactly like that. With a hypnotic and strange beginning, a thoroughly dull
middle and a captivating end, this physically short (at 174 pages) novel never
really gains its feet and becomes something more than an off-kilter writing experiment,
but there is enough here for a profoundly moving portrait of the whirlpool of grief
one can find themselves in after the sudden death of someone close to them.
Chiem’s prose feels like it is swimming at times: through events, conversations
and even dreams and it’s never quite clear what is what. I can see some people
finding this an aggravating part of the book, but I found it quite mesmerizing
and not nearly the book’s biggest problem. The book opens with Corvus; the main
character in the throes of what we later learn is a deep, deep depression. She
is working for Tim, a creepy pornographer with a strange approach to his craft
(evidenced by a disturbing scene where he filmed his mom’s death). After a
confrontation, she and Amber escape his grasp and find themselves guest at a
mansion filled with zoo animals reclaimed from Pablo Escobar’s estate. It is
only after a startling reveal that we learn what broke Corvus. She fell in love
with a playwright named Perry and something happened to take that away. This
and other parts of the book could be argued to be presented as pure fantasy, as
Corvus has a habit of disappearing into cinematic delusion. It both works, in
the context of Perry not being real as well as the book’s great ending
(although it is too quick), but it overstays its welcome and becomes tired and repetitive
very quickly. Still, I don’t think you’ll find another book like this in 2019.
Rating: 5/5
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