Most Helpful Customer Reviews
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7 of 8 people found the following review helpful:
1.0 out of 5 stars
Probably the worst book I've ever read, 9 May 2007
This is a strange, alarmingly self-indulgent book; filled with angst and shock for the sake of angst and shock, it seems intent on dragging a gullible audience further into believing that self-pitying 'unhappiness' is something to be applauded. The central character, Ruby, a vain, self-centred actress (or, as the 'cast of characters' would have it, 'a f**k-up') appears, from the very beginning, to hate and harm herself because there is nothing better to do. For this reason I found it impossible to sympathise with her, and a book with a protagonist the reader couldn't care less about is immediately in trouble.
The author never quite glamorises the main character's self-harm and bulimia, but she does have a vaguely romanticised view of such behaviour which suggests that her knowledge of it is gleaned from autobiographies and teen films, as opposed to real life. It almost seems that she expects us to revel in Ruby's self-abuse in the same manner the character herself does; one wonders if Forrest realises exactly how obnoxious her protagonist is, or if she is as blindly in love with Ruby as Ruby is with herself. The blurb paints Ruby as 'a seductive blend of heroine and whore', but she is neither seductive, nor as triumphant as 'heroine' suggests, nor anything as dramatic as a whore. She is simply an unpleasant mess through nobody's fault but her own. Forrest is a pseudo-Plath, desperate to emulate the anguish of true pain but quite clearly lacking in any experience of it whatsoever.
Elements of the story are simply unbelievable. We are asked to accept that Ruby is a Hollywood star, yet no satisfactory explanation is given as to how she attained this position. The juxtaposition of Ruby's 'fame' with a plethora of pop-culture references means that fiction rests very uncomfortably against fact. Forrest makes a show of the fact that her main character is sexually aware at the age of twelve, but rather than being frightening, or an explanation of why Ruby has become what she is, the fashion in which this is presented is so laughable it's just boring. Even the dialogue is often poor, and the device of telling the story from a number of points of view falls somewhat flat because Forrest's style varies little between characters.
In spite of all this, bizarrely enough, the book picks up once Ruby has attempted suicide and found herself in hospital. Forrest is at her strongest when writing surreal, dreamlike scenes which may or may not be happening. The conclusion, too, is more impressive than much that precedes it; surprisingly, when our 'heroine' has come to her senses and recognised that the world does not revolve around her, she is likeable. This is the only element of the novel that gives a glimmer of hope that Forrest is not a one-trick pony, that she is wiser and more aware than we might have previously assumed. However, Thin Skin undoubtedly ends as it started; self-indulgently. Is it pointless? I suspect so; it isn't written to argue a case, but nor is it an enjoyable piece of throwaway chick-lit. Ultimately, it's hard to shake the feeling that perhaps Forrest would have been better off leaving this particular tale in her imagination.
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2 of 2 people found the following review helpful:
2.0 out of 5 stars
An Unsatisfying Read, 10 Mar 2005
I must say that I was looking forward to Thin Skin. After reading Namedropper, Forrest's first novel (which I adored) I was expecting something similarily spectactular. Unfortunately I was greatly disapointed. Thin Skin focuses on an young Hollywood actress, Ruby, whose problems with bulimia and self harm overshadow her success. Suffering from extreme low-self esteem combined with the enforced pressure of false-pride and narcissism that the industry validates, Ruby is a girl in turmoil. Seemingly obsessed with herself, her image, her previous loves and her current sexual power that she wields over all that watch her, Ruby is painted as a unsympathetic character. As someone who has suffered from similar eating disordered and negative behaviours myself, I still found it difficult to empathise with Ruby, as she seemed so vacant and flimsy. If I could not find something in her to relate to, I can not even begin to imagine how a reader with no understanding or personal experience of Ruby's conditions could have done so. Like the character herself, the writer has been equally selfish with sharing the true depth of Ruby's personality. I wanted to get to know her better in order that I could begin to understand her, but Forrest made it very hard. It was not that Ruby was an empty character, infact the opposite, but the author did not paint an entire picture, which I find very frustrating as a reader. Rich and dark like her name, Ruby is a character whose depths were not shown in the book. She had no 'voice' and I subsequently found it very hard to care about her. It was as though Forrest had given up, leaving the reader with only half a person, if that. This factor combined with the lack of any obvious storyline makes Thin Skin a very unsatistfying read. The lack of story would have been fine had Ruby been constructed with more depth and detail, But she wasn't, so the entire novel seemed pointless - an exercise in style and not much else. Forrest's talent is creating a sense of image, which is effectively done here. The concept behind a deeply dark character in a world of glitter and light is a great one. But the lack of depth means that the book is easily forgettable. Read Forrest's first novel, Namedropper, instead. Here we again have a detailed sense of style and image, but this time combined with a highly enjoyable character, Viva. It's an explosive combination, and Namedropper is one of my favourite books of all time. Thin Skin is not worth your time.
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6 of 8 people found the following review helpful:
1.0 out of 5 stars
An empty, tedious story..., 12 Aug 2002
By A Customer
I read all the good reviews here and had high expectations of this book, but I was sadly disappointed.For me, the focal point of the book - a "ruined" model called Ruby - evoked no emotion, and I could make no connection with this character at all. Through the eyes of this protaganist, I feel that the author wanted us to sympathise with her, to be interested in what happens to her - but this just did not happen for me. I think that the book is fairly well written - Emma Forrest is clearly not without talent - but it is wasted on an empty story about an annoying character. At the end, I just felt this was a pointless novel that left me cold.
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