- Hardcover: 224 pages
- Publisher: W. W. Norton & Co. (30 Mar 2007)
- Language English
- ISBN-10: 0393061485
- ISBN-13: 978-0393061482
- Product Dimensions: 20.5 x 14.7 x 2.3 cm
- Average Customer Review: 2.2 out of 5 stars See all reviews (4 customer reviews)
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More About the Author
Product Description
Tom Adair, Scotsman
'An exceptional first novel ... This book should win prizes ... [Wagner] entertains - a writer incapable, it seems, of being drab.'
--This text refers to the
Paperback
edition.
Viv Groskop, Eve Magazine
`If, like me, you enjoy a tale that gives you goosebumps, you'll love this ... Mysterious and lyrical, it's a must-read.'
--This text refers to the
Paperback
edition.
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Customer Reviews
Most Helpful Customer Reviews
2 of 2 people found the following review helpful
Format:Paperback
Janet who lives in London with nice Stephen and suffers from seizures, discovers she's inherited a house in Northumberland from her mother, who she'd thought died years ago. She goes up to see it and finds Tom, a car mechanic and sculptor, living there. Rather than sorting out the issue practically, everything goes mystical and strange on them, and after lengthy silences and banal conversation ("`Are you hungry?' he said. 'Yes,' she said. 'I am.'") and a great deal of intense introspection they sleep together. She discovers he is her brother or half-brother, and then they swim with the seals and she rescues him in a sort of dream from the local fairy queen. All this is intercut with extensive blurry flashbacks to their childhoods, especially occasions where they are being told fairy stories or life-stories by their respective single parents.
This is one of those novels in whose reception a curious gulf exists between the admiration of a number of well-known writers (Philip Pullman, Helen Dunmore, John Burnside - 'brilliant, beautiful'), and the disregard ('boring, silly') of many 'ordinary' readers. The slow prose is full of repetitions: "Of course he takes my hands in his to show me, even though it is summer, even though it is hot, too hot. My hands outside the covers now, cupping my fingers in his own and blowing, puff, puff, puff." Outside events, locations and dates are imprecise. The psychology, not being realist, is hard to get a grip on. The underlying narrative looks loosely based on the folk-tale 'Tam Lin' which might explain the novel's strangeness but doesn't excuse its dullness. I'd say it's not really worth spending time with if you're into strong storylines or believable characterisation or witty dialogue or sharp, spare writing or narrative action. On the other hand, Philip Pullman loved it - so you might well disagree!
This is one of those novels in whose reception a curious gulf exists between the admiration of a number of well-known writers (Philip Pullman, Helen Dunmore, John Burnside - 'brilliant, beautiful'), and the disregard ('boring, silly') of many 'ordinary' readers. The slow prose is full of repetitions: "Of course he takes my hands in his to show me, even though it is summer, even though it is hot, too hot. My hands outside the covers now, cupping my fingers in his own and blowing, puff, puff, puff." Outside events, locations and dates are imprecise. The psychology, not being realist, is hard to get a grip on. The underlying narrative looks loosely based on the folk-tale 'Tam Lin' which might explain the novel's strangeness but doesn't excuse its dullness. I'd say it's not really worth spending time with if you're into strong storylines or believable characterisation or witty dialogue or sharp, spare writing or narrative action. On the other hand, Philip Pullman loved it - so you might well disagree!
5 of 7 people found the following review helpful
Format:Paperback
Erica Wagner's Seizure is, I'm afraid, a triumph of style over substance.
Janet, who seems to be American, has issues with her mother. She believed her mother died when she was three, but the novel kicks off when a solicitor tells the adult Janet that she has inherited a cottage in Scotland from her mother who has died three weeks ago. There she meets Tom and falls in love. There are back stories of small people being told bedtime stories. There was also the device of the title, where Janet had seizures - presumably of the epileptic variety. I missed the significance of this to the plot. Instead, it just seemed like padding.
The writing aims for high poetry, at the expense of clarity and interest. There are switches between the story telling and the "reality" that are not clearly signposted and it is often unclear exactly who is narrating at any given point. I think the narration involved both Tom and Janet as children, being told stories that had parallels with the lives they were living, but it all became a bit of a fog. I suspect we might have been told up front that Janet was American, although I missed it. Thus, I wondered why an apparently British story was talking about Jell-O, parking lots and sneakers. It was only during a laboured discussion of first floor and second floor near the end that the penny dropped. Then I thought back on what I had read before, trying to piece together who did what to whom, when and where. But I gave up because it was making my head spin.
Seizure felt like a self-conscious attempt to create art - but one where the intricate details formed together to create a blur of boredom. The stylized ambiguity felt like a ploy to hide the lack of anything significant going on. It was an effort to reach the end of this rather short novel, and one that ultimately disappointed. There was no great moment of clarity or understanding at the end. Just more fog.
Janet, who seems to be American, has issues with her mother. She believed her mother died when she was three, but the novel kicks off when a solicitor tells the adult Janet that she has inherited a cottage in Scotland from her mother who has died three weeks ago. There she meets Tom and falls in love. There are back stories of small people being told bedtime stories. There was also the device of the title, where Janet had seizures - presumably of the epileptic variety. I missed the significance of this to the plot. Instead, it just seemed like padding.
The writing aims for high poetry, at the expense of clarity and interest. There are switches between the story telling and the "reality" that are not clearly signposted and it is often unclear exactly who is narrating at any given point. I think the narration involved both Tom and Janet as children, being told stories that had parallels with the lives they were living, but it all became a bit of a fog. I suspect we might have been told up front that Janet was American, although I missed it. Thus, I wondered why an apparently British story was talking about Jell-O, parking lots and sneakers. It was only during a laboured discussion of first floor and second floor near the end that the penny dropped. Then I thought back on what I had read before, trying to piece together who did what to whom, when and where. But I gave up because it was making my head spin.
Seizure felt like a self-conscious attempt to create art - but one where the intricate details formed together to create a blur of boredom. The stylized ambiguity felt like a ploy to hide the lack of anything significant going on. It was an effort to reach the end of this rather short novel, and one that ultimately disappointed. There was no great moment of clarity or understanding at the end. Just more fog.
2 of 3 people found the following review helpful
Format:Paperback
The languauge in this novel is very beautiful and atmospheric, but a times gets in the way of telling the story which is longet than needs be.
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