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If I lived forever I would read this book 200 times each time slowly bathing in every sentence and unearthing all the glorious subtext which must lie beneath its icebergs As it is with so many books and so little time I still feel compelled to immediately dive back inIce is the only easy read that s also a hard read The writing is poetic but simple and crisp Never hard to understand Actions are clear the imagery ever present It reads in many ways like a movie a dream movie The characters are all nameless shadows swirling around in a context that shape shifts as often as it remains constant We see their movements and glimpse their motivations but they remain enigmasI often regret picking up novels that describe themselves as a fever dream This inevitably means a poorly edited potpourri of sketches that lack clarity Ice however is literally actually like a dream The dream ends ou wake up and the afterimages stick around long enough to make ou fantasize of returning to that whirlwind storyline to put the pieces together and experience the magic once This is exactly how I feel having finished the book I didn t always comprehend why or how everything was happening but I felt it all and I want to feel it again Next time deeper Posted at HeradasIt s difficult to determine which parts of Ice are actually happening and which are hallucinated by our unnamed protagonist Making it even disorienting the point of view dips away from first person occasionally capturing events that happen maybe when he isn t present only to snap right back to our protagonist s perspective as if nothing happened Although I was lost it was already dusk I had been driving for hours and was practically out of petrol The idea of being stranded on these lonely hills in the dark appalled me so I was glad to see a signpost and coast down to a garage When I opened a window to speak to the attendant the air outside was so cold that I turned up my collar While he was filling the tank he commented on the weather Never known such cold in this month Forecast says we re in for a real bad freeze up Most of my life was spent abroad soldiering or exploring remote areas but though I had just come from the tropics and freezing meant little to me I was struck by the ominous sound of his words Anxious to get on I asked the way to the village I was making for You ll never find it in the dark it s right off the beaten track And those hill roads are dangerous when they re iced up He seemed to imply that only a fool would drive on under present conditions which rather annoyed me So cutting short his involved directions I paid him and drove away ignoring his last warning shout Look out for that ice I was lost it was already late December I had been reading for hours and was practically out of time to finish this novel The idea of not completing this book before the end of the ear appalled me so I was glad to see a glimmer of resolution and coast down towards the conclusion When I turned a page to hear a character actually speak his words were so bitter that I shivered inside While he was moving the story forward he commented on the narrative Never known such numbing distortion described in a book before Critics say it s a chilling example of slip stream Most of my life was spent reading mainstream writing the classics some post modern stuff but though I had just come from reading William Trevor and post apocalyptic scenarios meant little to me I was struck by the compelling sound of his words Anxious to get on I flicked to the end to see how many pages were left to go You ll never make it with that attitude it s right off the beaten track And those gender stereotypes are dangerous when they re hyped up He seemed to imply that only a fool would read on under present conditions which rather annoyed me So cutting short his involved explanations I turned the page and read on ignoring his last warning shout Look out for that distorting lens device Note This was just as good on the re read I was afraid the dream might turn out to be real Something in her demanded victimization and terror so she corrupted my dreams led me into dark places I had no wish to explore It was no longer clear to me which of us was the victim Perhaps we were victims of one anotherStunningly surreal and chilling Anna Kavan s final novel Ice is a frightening plunge into the icy darkness of the human mind and heart Written with a fitful urgency the reader flows on the glimmering prose across swirling imagery of desolate landscapes beset by an impending apocalypse as the narrator continuously pursues a woman known only as the girl while struggling to anchor himself to the elusive ever deteriorating reality Through spiraling hallucinations and indefinite descriptions reality becomes nothing but a translucent veil giving shape to the real violent and grim truths that exist only in abstraction The blurring of reality and unreality that occurs gives these sinister abstractions a staging ground to take form within in order to explore the otherwise unspeakable darkness that leads people to make victims of one anotherNothing in Ice is ever certain or concrete Characters are not given names and reality is only tasted in fleeting moments but only as on might recall and incident from a dream Told through the disturbed mind of a narrator who within the first 10 pages openly admits to suffering from daytime hallucinations the reader is forced to be led by the hand through this menacing novel by someone they cannot fully trust Poe s The Cask of Amontillado and his use of the unreliable narrator immediately come to mind through this narrators vague descriptions and elusive explanations much like the intentionally unspecified thousand injuries in Poe There is for instance his explanation of the girl Systematic bullying when she was most vulnerable had distorted the structure of her personality made a victim of her to be destroyed either by things or by human beings It made no difference in any case she could not escape Despite being alluded that it was a cruel obdurate mother that inflicted such psychological injury there is nothing to ground this to reality and justify his claims We have only his observations of the girl much of which may be distorted and our own impression is further distorted as we observe her already believing it to be true and using our glimpses to justify our pre disposed conclusion instead of constructing our own The same goes for the slowly creeping apocalypse a wall of ice marching in relentless order across the world crushing obliterating destroying everything in their path the conseuence of constant world wars which lead to this new ice age However the science behind the ice is only vaguely surmised as if playing at a guess and the reader is occasionally reminded that no reliable source of information existed Kavan uses repetition to its glorious full potential constantly reminding us of the vague premises to reinforce their believability and tricking us to perceive something formless as concreteThe elusive nature of the novel serves a secondary purpose beyond misdirection as it allows the reader to experience the story and settings exactly as the narrator sees and comprehends them The landscapes and the narrative are co dependent metaphors of one another There were many small islands some of which floated up and became clouds while formations of cloud or mist descended and anchored themselves in the sea The white snowy landscape below and above the canopy of misty white light the effect of an oriental painting nothing solid about it The town appeared to consist of ruins collapsing on one another in shapeless disorder a town of sandcastles wrecked by the tide The narrators own fractured mind controls our sense of time and reality and often and without warning we are sent into some unreality some brief fantasy and then dropped back into the plot as if nothing had occurred The hallucination of one moment did not fit the reality of the next our narrator reflects I had a curious feeling that I was living on several planes simultaneously the overlapping was confusing As the novel progresses the seamless hallucination seuences aren t as obvious and the novel suddenly drives forward at break neck pace taking us through spy dramas courtroom scenes war stories and other edge of Crochet Pattern - Tutu Skirt for Onesie your seat escape stories that we must ingest whole and wonder where the fantasy and reality may have blurred Tiny hints of obvious unreality present themselves occasionally such as producing a foreign automatic weapon when one wasn t present earlier however the all we can truly do is hold on tight and enjoy the thrill ride Time itself is subject to the narrators own distorted mind as events are mentioned that he once observed that could not have occurred within the boundaries of time presented in the scenes and the positioning of the opening scenes is a bit cumbersome to place along the timeline The narrative almost feels cyclical at times There are many different methods of addressing these incongruities depending on how the reader interprets the novelet it would appear that nothing in the book aims towards one certain conclusion or meaning Instead Kavan seems to write to give a wide interpretability because the real issues at play are very abstract and intangible and it appears she would prefer to keep them that way in order to allot them their full force Ultimately depriving the reader of lucidness and conclusiveness brings the uncomfortable uncertain tone of the novel to life The surrealist ualities are elevated to near maddening proportions by taking any safe guards away from the reader and forcing them to grasp desperately at the intangiblesBrick by brick Kavan builds only one certainty in this novel the destructive powers of man An insane impatience for death was driving mankind to a second suicide even before the full effect of the first had been felt Each scene and setting is beleaguered by references to wars past and present everywhere the ubiuitous ruins decayed fortifications evidences of a warlike bloodthirsty past and the encroaching ice and it is always at the forefront of the mind that the world is in a perpetual state of violence This violence is said to be the cause of the icy apocalypse a world collapsing both figuratively and literally due to mans collective death wish the fatal impulse to self destruction Even the response to destruction is destruction as wars rage on in increasing intensity to match coming end By making war we asserted the fact that we were alive and opposed the icy death creeping over the globe we are told the narrator not missing out on the obvious ironies He looks at the actions of those around him with disgust and dismay saddened when encountering a violent brute of a man as being the kind of man who was wanted now and placing himself in league with a civilized admirable man that is brutally murdered for no reason saying he was my sort of man we were not like that rabble to distance himself from the bleak violence Yet he knows he cannot escape it and is constantly drawn towards the fighting joining the army for a time believing he was involved with the fate of the planet I had to take an active part in whatever was going on The narrator s method of misdirection leads one to wonder where his loyal. In this haunting and surreal novel the narrator and a man known as the warden search for an elusive girl in a frozen seemingly post nuclear apocalyptic landscape The country has been invaded and is being governed.
Ty and morality really liesThe war torn doomed world is a mere backdrop for the evils that play out within arms reach of the narrator as he embarks on his crusade for the girl I was totally absorbed in that obsessional need as for a lost essential portion of my own being he admits Everything else in the world seemed immaterial The real heart of this novel is the relationship with the girl and the narrator freely declares the world around him as uestionable as a mere veil of reality where he must conduct his search While the universal message of destruction and powerful groups such as the warring armies victimizing one another is chilling Kavan directs us to the poignant and disturbing victimization one person can inflict upon another especially one they love The interplay between the male characters of the husband the warden the narrator and their experiences with the girl show an alarming portrait of obsessive sadistic possession The girl ceases to be considered an eual human and becomes nothing than chattel It was clear that he regarded her as his property I considered that she belonged to me Between the two of us she was reduced to nothing her only function might have been to link us together These malignant pleasures of victimization are at the core of each scene real or unreal and illustrated through the vibrant imagery of each stark landscape which Kavan paints with her words All of this was happening but with a uality of the unreal it was reality happening in uite a different way The surreal plotline becomes a place for her abstract ideas to flicker in and out of physical form but their malevolent nature is too poisonous to exist in glaring reality so reality must fold up and falter in order for them to truly rear their ugly heads Hallucinations occur so we can look them in the face and make sense out of non sense horrific ideas are structured in a way to make them tangible enough to process The narrator himself cannot even fathom his own depravity and suffers from unrealities or projects them onto others because he cannot face the blinding truth Kavan presents a humanity that deserves the destruction that it receives and this is the most horrific aspect of the novel It makes one wonder if they are blind to their own moral deformities conditioned to accept them as normal because we are so able to rationalize and gloss over the troubling aspects of ourselves One must uestion if they are actually some damnable beast writhing in their own bile Bad Pets yet thinking it smells of roses and projecting onto society and those around them their own personal iniuity What else is truly alarming is the way the victims become conditioned to accept these monstrosities playing right into the degredation and violence Kavan seems to admonish this behavior creating a borderless world of victimization that damns both parties In the delirium of the dance it was impossible to distinguish between the violent and the victims Anyway distinction no longer mattered in a dance of death where all dancers spun on the edge of nothingness It isn t so much an attack on the victim as it is an attack on the whole of humanity an attack on our own pathetic ways and weak wills that lead us towards being either the victim or the aggressorAnna Kavan was known for these startling perspectives on humanity Her own life is a fascinating story Born Helen Woods in what was assumed to be Cannes in 1901 she changed her name to Anna Kavan while institutionalized after a nervous breakdown following the end of her second marriage The name Anna Kavan the protagonist of her 1930 novel Let Me Alone brought with it a new personality and writing style Beyond the mental illnesses she was a lifelong heroin addict She died in 1968 of heart failure not long after this novel was published but before dying she burnt all her diaries correspondence and other links into her private life to ensure that she would become one of the world s best kept secrets This fascinating woman had an incredible knack for prose and a sharp disturbing insight into human nature For readers interested in further insight into Kavan herself they will be pleased to know that many of her books contain thinly fictionalized biographical elements Books like Asylum Piece cover her mental states and time spent in the asylum Sleep Has His House hints at her sorrowful childhood and her addiction to heroin and her open disgust of humanity is unapologetically broadcast in her short story collection Julia and the BazookaThis novel is one of the most uniue and engrossing literary events I have encountered To give it a genre would cheapen the novel as it both is and isn t science fiction and horror being a work of literature as elusive as its own narrative The prose will surround and penetrateour heart much like the wall of ice in the novel as it builds the gorgeously surreal images to dazzle Running Your Best your mind The subject matter and the tone is bleak and chilling and exposes a violently disturbing vision of humanityet it is a book that The Fall Of White City (Victorian Chicago Mystery Series Book 1) you want to hug tightly asou race through the streets Please Dont Tickle The Tiger yelling to everyone that they should read it As menacing as a nightmareet as soothing as a pleasant daydream this book scratches an itch that few other books beyond McCarthy s The Road has been able to touch 455Gracias Hermana for this wonderful Christmas gift I was oppressed by the sense of universal strangeness by the chill of approaching catastrophe the menace of ruins suspended above and also by the enormity of what had been done the weight of collective guilt A frightful crime had been committed against nature against the universe against life By rejecting life man had destroyed the immemorial order destroyed the world now everything was about to crash down in ruins The girl forced since childhood into a victim s patter of thought and behavior is here further victimized by her lack of name Although woman would be a age appropriate term for her the usage of girl is delivered with an extremely negative connotation that implies her as weak a fragile and innocent glass girl with no will of her own Her physical appearance pale and frail is also used to highlight her weak and innocent nature making the narrators own personal indescribable pleasure from seeing her suffer all the sadistic despite his own assertion that I disapproved of my own callousness but there it was Various factors had combined to produce it though they were not extenuating circumstances It would appear the narrator is trying to be upfront this admission coming right at the beginning of the novel to gloss over his sadism but reflection on his word choices reveals the residue of the disturbing truths he is attempting to misdirect the reader from view spoilerIt is debatable but there is strong evidence to indicate that the warden and the narrator are one and the same person There are moments of half clarity when the narrator recognizes his own denial and notices the inconsistencies in his fantasy I seemed to be looking at my own reflexion sic Suddenly I was entangled in utmost confusion about which of us was which We were like halves of one being joined in some mysterious symbiosis I fought to retain my identity The husband may very well be the same character as well In the introduction Christopher Priest asserts that the warden and the husband are the same man but says nothing of the narrator The multiple interpretative uality of this book is one of its strongest aspects hide spoiler In this extraordinary novel Anna Kavan captures the claustrophobic feeling of being caught in a nightmare The nameless narrator relates a fragmented story of searching for a beautiful very thin woman with silver hair who is also under the control of a powerful man sometimes called the warden The setting is an unnamed country in which informers hide in dark corners and people look anxiously over their shoulders for some unspecified threat The narrator provides a fragmented depiction of an isolated country relatively poor and embroiled in an unspecified global conflict The characters are facing another danger as well an encroaching wall of ice that is threatening to obliterate all life Cold coruscations of rainbow fire pulsed overhead shot through by shafts of pure incandescence thrown out by mountains of solid ice towering all round Closer the trees round the house sheathed in ice dripped and sparkled with weird prismatic jewels reflecting the vivid changing cascades above Instead of the familiar night sky the aurora borealis formed a blazing vibrating roof of intense cold and colour beneath which the earth was trapped with all its inhabitants walled in by those impassable glittering ice cliffs The world had become an arctic prison from which no escape was possible all it creatures trapped as securely as were the trees already lifeless inside their deadly resplendent armourThere is beauty in Kavan s descriptions of this world but it s a deadly beauty cold fragmented unrelenting And adding to the sense of dislocation transitions throughout are abrupt throwing the reader from present to past to vision to dream and back again Reading this novel is like being trapped in a labyrinthine nightmare with no I was going to start off by describing this as dream like but it s actually a nightmareThe Earth is rapidly covering with ice a death sentence for its inhabitants Meanwhile our unnamed male narrator in an unnamed country has an obsession with a woman from his past He feels compelled to save her not only from the ice but also from her rather jerky husband then later from the sinister warden What I assumed would be a relatively simple plot in relatively few pages is actually disorienting Just when MTIV you thinkou know what s going on International Organizations you don t The narrator says something about himself and then a few paragraphs laterou realise Laurus you re reading about something surreal happening to the woman that the narrator couldn t possibly know She might be encased in ice she might be alone trapped in a room Thenou jump to another scene maybe another place or time maybe a dream The narrator admittedly has a loose grip on reality This has the effect of keeping the reader off balance on slippery groundWe never understand why the narrator is so hell bent on following the woman around It s certainly not for her personality she has none that I could discern All we learn of her is that she is the eternal victim She is child like passive with a history of being bullied and abused And she s very white and very thin with sparkling hairAbout 20 pages in I was scratching my head While the descriptions of ice were kaleidoscopic in their refracting beauty I felt like I was playing a bad version of pin the tail on the donkey Someone had blindfolded me spun me around till I was good and dizzy and sent me walking with the ass tail in hand towards the edge of a jagged cliffI started to think about Anna Kavan A lifelong heroin addict her tennis coach introduced her to the drug to improve her game in her mid twenties She lived until the age of 67 That s 40 Silk and Steel years using heroin which goes against everything I think I know about heroin use obviously I don t know much Kavan who lived through many tragedies was in and out of mental institutions for the last 30ears of her life for depression for addiction and attempted suicideThe book started to. By a secret organization There is destruction everywhere; great walls of ice overrun the world Together with the narrator the reader is swept into a hallucinatory uest for this strange and fragile creature with.
Make a lot sense to me once I began reading it through of a biographical lens The detachment the alienation the encroaching ice The sense of confusion and paranoia of the weak woman running from oppressive abusers The padded soundproof rooms And then it occurred to me what if Kavan s pale lady is splintered and fragmented into pieces of herself What if the narrator is actually the part of her trying to act as protector and the warden is the part that punishes and controls If this is the case the poor lady spends all her time in a nightmare world chasing herself saving herself hating herself escaping herself and occasionally through the haze trying to keep it together long enough to feel at peaceWhile her life experience had a huge impact on this work I m not suggesting that Kavan simply wrote this about herself There s so much going on here It s a complex and experimental post modern novel It has been described as apocalyptic Kafka esue science fiction and feminist It s all those things as well as a bewildering frosty look deep into the unblinking eye of deathAnd I haven t even mentioned the lemurs What a book As her fate she accepted the world of ice shining shimmering dead she resigned herself to the triumph of glaciers and the death of the world Her hair was a blizzard a shimmering cascade of pale luminous moonlight She was fragile as if made of glass and crystal built like a waif with pallid skin and bruised eyes She is an ice sculpture carved out of a glacier that is shattered and reassembled time and time again He needs her desires her craves her He wants to clench the slender bones of her wrist and grip the gaunt thrust of her hip He finds her as the world is ending She belongs to another but then he realizes that she is discontented While she was happy I had dissociated myself been outside the situation Now I felt implicated involved with her again HEThe unreliable narrator of this tale is suffering from daytime apparitions and nighttime terrors The lurid concoctions of his agitated mind bleed certainty into the fantastical fooling not only himself but also this reader He has seized his own deceptions and sees them for what they are but understanding and containing them are two very different things The hallucination of one moment did not fit the reality of the next Ice is advancing across the Earth He has the means to save her or at least put off the inevitable He is chasing a wraith He loses her and finds her again only to have her turn to smoke in his hands He knows she is real though everything must be uestioned She hates him She misses him She expects him to save her as she bashes him with her animosity When he dreams of her she is dead I felt I had been defrauded I was the only person entitled to inflict wounds I leaned forward and touched her cold skin He has a rival A doppleganger The split half of himself who is assertive brutal and obsessively possessive The Narrator refers to him as The Warden but it is unclear exactly who he is I have lingering doubts about The Warden s identity Is he separate from The Narrator or is he merely just another personality that he jumps to when he needs to be someone else Someone who can control the girl The one who can remind her of who she is Systematic bullying when she was most vulnerable had distorted the structure of her personality made a victim of her to be destroyed either by things or by human beings people or fjords and forests it made no difference in any case she could not escape The irreparable damage inflicted had long ago rendered her fate inevitable She is a victim but he is starting to understand that he is a victim too In her presence sometimes he becomes someone unacceptable Her very delicacy her fracturability makes him want to hurt her makes him need to hurt her Kindness is something he learns too late The world is so disturbing because he knows it comes from within his own mind Bruce Sterling termed the phrase slipstream to describe this type of writing long after this novel was published He wrote this is a kind of writing which simply makes Het Reservaat Van Ward Ruyslinck you feel very strange the way that living in the twentieth century makesou feel if Rumunia. Koniec złotej epoki you are a person of a certain sensibility I knew after reading only a few pages that I was going to have to read this novel uickly feverishly if I had any chance of staying in the boat as I swirled without paddles through the mind of Anna Kavan I put Franz Kafka in the boat with me but he too is a fragile soul and became sea sick with the changing directions of this twisted plot There are Kafka moments especially when The Narrator is dealing with a government bureaucracy that is becoming and detached as the world becomes smaller Anna Kavan was also a painter This is her self portraitAnna Kavan AKA Helen Emily Woods AKA Helen Ferguson suffered from depression and heroin addiction She was in and out of treatment centers her whole life She attempted suicide but survived each attempt Many people believed that she passed away from an overdose in 1968 but she actually died from a heart attack She burned all of her correspondence and her diaries before she died This is truly unfortunate because I have a feeling that to most of us her diaries would be like trying to read Cumbric but to a select few it would be like finding an extension of their own brain I can t help thinking The Girl in this story is Anna Kavan A fragile woman herself whom both men and women found to be attractive Ultimately The Girl in the story accepts her fate and I tend to think that Kavan reached the same conclusions with her own life She lived in seclusion Though venerated by many writers most of her work was published after her death She was a lost girl who became a lost woman incapable of escaping the ebb and flow of a mind that obviously saw the world differently Like The Narrator the barrier that most of us have between real life and fanciful thoughts must have been breached for her Everything was real and everything was imaginary The disparity between one or the other is a hair s difference This novel is bleak and beautiful Anna is so crafty and so lostet so desperate to be found I can already tell that I will never completely shake this novel off I will remember the starkness of the trees the desperate searching the walls of ice the escaping to be repossessed and the nameless characters who together might form one beingI purchased a first American hardcover edition of this book from Between the Covers Rare Books in New JerseyYou can find of my writing on my blog at Carrying my suitcase I walked into the town Silence obtruded itself Nothing moved The devastation was even greater than it had seemed from the boat Not a building intact Wreckage heaped in blank spaces where houses had been A man is wandering in a land that closely resembles a distorted version of Norway ravaged by a regime and social unrest A small part of a world that has frozen and is slowly decaying The fjords have frozen and the once beautiful nature that surrounds them is now silent A world where monsters have awaken and every sense of dignity and respect has vanished But the man of our story cares nothing for it His sole purpose is to find a girl that has captured his thoughts A girl with silver hair and eyes the colour of the clear sky guarded by a cruel warden husband Through a devastated landscape and torn down souls the two characters must overcome violence and their own selves She looked about for the fjord failed to see it lost her bearings and at once became really frightened terrified of being overtaken by night in the dark forest Fear was the climate she lived in Kavan s story is a twisted apocalyptic metaphor for the depths of human instincts Nameless characters in an unnamed country in a scenery of white the colour of purity and innocence covered in ice that has found its way to people s hearts Kavan creates a world where there is no place for the innocent and the enigmatic girl has to survive assaults physical and verbal by the mob Using the motif of the hero who stands alone against a society that has gone mad Kavan highlights the isolation of the different the trap of the futility that lies within every attempt of rebellion And it is interesting that the main character of her novel doesn t even want to rebel He simply wants to live And the girl endures but refuses to break her soul full of anger her spirit unbrokenKavan writes in a form that keeps ou at a distance and rightfully so in my opinion This is the kind of story where the reader must become the observer not the participant We cannot experience feelings in a world where feeling is absent Her images have come straight off a Hieronymus Bosch painting and the setting is the Hell of the Norse legends She uses bits and pieces from the vast folklore and mythology of the region and mixes it with early traces of Science Fiction while labels like Dystopia and Mystery also apply The prose is beautiful and the dialogue is restricted where absolutely necessary There are no fillers in this story Everything is straight raw merciless The weak fights to live the seeker doesn t stop the mob jumps at the chance to destroy The only thing we have left is dreams And even these turn into nightmarish hallucinationsOne could use the words Kafkaesue dreamlike and so on and so forth I will use the word masterpiece without labels For a second she stood still appalled by the absolute silence and loneliness all around A new ferocity pervaded the landscape now that night was approaching She saw the massed armies of forest trees encamped on all sides the mountain wall above bristling with trees like guns Below the fjord was an impossible icy volcano erupting the baleful fire of the swallowed sunIn the deepening dusk every horror could be expected She was afraid to look tried not to see the spectral shapes rising from the water My reviews can also be found on Ice Anna KavanIce is a novel by Anna Kavan published in 1967 Ice was Kavan s last work to be published before her death the first to land her mainstream success and remains her most well known work Ice is set during an apocalypse in which a massive monolithic ice shelf caused by nuclear war is engulfing the earth The male protagonist and narrator of the story spends the narrative feverishly pursuing a oung nameless woman and contemplating the overwhelming but conflicting feelings he has for her that slowly end up being intruded by the worsening atmosphere of the setting He freuently faces opposition from the Warden the girl s husband and captor 2017 1395 220 9786003672468 20 Riveting breathless nightmarish prose a stream of word horror so intense it s hard to fathom eually hard to look away from The plot a globetrotting rescue before ice extinction sets in Or is it a chase Therein lies the rub everything has a double face an ambiguity rooted in subjectivity and dreams everything except the ice which is ineluctable a fact that no one can wish or dream away A book like this is incredibly difficult to pull off skirting on that razor s edge between brilliance and nonsense but I found myself drawn in and never put off in awe really of its power not just a verbal power but a moral one an urgent description of who we humans are and what we have wrought both upon and within ourselves and upon this planet. Albino hair Acclaimed upon its 1967 publication as the best science fiction book of the ear this extraordinary and innovative novel has subseuently been recognized as a major work of literature in its own righ.
Anna Kavan was born Helen Woods in France on April 10 1901 to wealthy expatriate British parents Her initial six works were published under the name of Helen Ferguson her first married name These early novels gave little indication of the experimental and disturbing nature of her later work I Am Lazarus 1945 a collection of short stories which explored the inner mindscape of the psycholo