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6 of 6 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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5 of 7 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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4 of 6 people found the following review helpful:
5.0 out of 5 stars
Impressive, brutal, brilliant, 20 Jun 2002
Emma Forrest's second novel is not necessarily as enjoyable as her first - it is serious and often frightening, but its gutsy, daring nature makes it overall a better novel. Ruby is a complex, semi-self-destructive character not unlike Viva from Namedropper, except Forrest takes this all one level further, making Ruby more painful and yet more comic. A typical example of the dark, magical humour of this book would be when someone tells Ruby to "cheer the f*** up" - she mishears it as "cheer the f***-up", and imagines a line of cheerleaders chanting "Breakdown girl, go go go!" Forrest bravely dissects the inner workings of a young, confused mind, and the film world at the same time. Sometimes the broken-up narrative and the different number of narrators can get confusing, but it all adds together to give a rounded profile of Ruby and the way she interacts with other character. It ca also be fun to play spot-the-influence (is director Sean drawn from indie film-maker Neil LaBute? Is Ruby - emancipated at 15 - an alternative Alicia Silverstone?) but that would be to miss the point of this novel. The message of Thin Skin is too complex to put into words, the overall feel and themes of the novel are more carried on Forrest's voice and prose style rather than explained, but this is a novel that every young person should read - confused or not - because it tells you that you are not alone, and best of all, it does it with a lyrical prose style you are unlikely to find anywhere else.
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