Gabriel Lake Recommends Marissa Pessl

 

And so we continue our Writers Recommend - a series where we ask writers to, well, you know.. recommend things. Like the books that they've enjoyed. To you. Because who doesn't like being recommended new and interesting books, right?! Think of it as a PSA. Only it's more like an LSA -Literary Service Announcement. 

Gabriel Lake Recommends Night Film By Marissa Pessl

In 2004, following a plane crash, a group of castaways found themselves lost on a mysterious island. Before they were stranded, they were also lost in their own lives. This newfound fight for survival is, in a strange way, a calling towards purpose. You are watching them. You find yourself enraptured, lost in mysteries, in theories, in the potential that you might be witnessing something truly special.

That’s how it was for me: a kid watching Lost. It was unlike anything I’d ever seen, both because it was innovative and because it was the first non-children’s television I’d engaged with. I’ve never forgotten the wonder which gripped me through every twist and reveal. JJ Abrams’ mystery box of storytelling – the idea that what could be is often more satisfying than what is – had me in a chokehold.

When the show ended, and I realized that it had not been an ornate puzzle box, but rather a cardboard one, I also never forgot that disappointment.

Since then, when I consume media, a part of me is always chasing the wonder and dreading the letdown.

Which is why, when I picked up Night Film by Marissa Pessl, it felt disconcerting.

The novel follows Scott McGrath, a reporter with a shaky reputation who’s taken an interest in the ‘Night Films.’ These movies, created by reclusive horror director Stanislas Cordova, are impossible to watch through normal means. Fed up with the Hollywood system, he built his own studio compound and produced the films in complete secrecy and independence. Their distribution is equally shrouded in mystery. To view one, you’d have to track down a midnight showing in the Paris catacombs or find your way onto a Darkweb video hosting site.

The films are party anecdotes. Oddities of a man with too much money and time. At least, they are until Cordova’s daughter winds up dead of an apparent suicide. Then the mysterious nature of the films becomes sinister. Everything becomes weird.

Very, very weird.

McGrath’s obsession mirrors your own as you pour deeper into the book, and it becomes increasingly clear that Pessl knows you’re nervous she won’t stick the landing. Soon, the search for them becomes about your own search. Your own interest in the book.

Because Night Film isn’t only interested in answers, but also in why we feel compelled to know. Why are we driven by curiosity in situations where it can only be detrimental? In the wake of tragedy, why is explaining that tragedy satisfying? It succeeds as both an engrossing mystery and a layered critique of itself.

The ending (don’t worry, I won’t spoil it) is unlike anything else I’ve read. Early on in Lost, the writers realized the greatest flaw of a mystery box: the fact that it has to be opened. Through that opening, it is destroyed, and so they adopted a workaround. Every mystery box would, through Tardissian physics, contain another, larger box.

This caused the stakes and mysteries to escalate until the point where (Spoilers for season 5 of Lost) our ragtag survivors are time travelers trying to create a paradox by detonating a nuclear bomb.

Night Film is keenly aware of this issue. Its characters are self-aware. They grapple with the knowledge that when each clue is revealed, they’re closer to a grand solution. As this search consumes their lives, the idea of answers becomes as terrifying as it is alluring. They know that the tangled web they’re following can’t go on forever. The knowledge they’re seeking will bring irrevocable change. Change which they might not be ready for.

Change which is also inevitable for you, the reader.

When I binged the last 200 pages and turned the final one, it left me with something truly new. I found that dogged, youthful obsession which I’d been chasing, but instead of being chased by disappointment, it had been accompanied by a sense of peace. The realization that I had not been watching a magic show but, in fact, a true wizard’s demonstration.

I think that’s a feeling everyone should experience.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Gabriel Lake is a human who writes books.

Some info regarding The Grand Odessa: 

I DID IT

All of it. Everything you’ve heard and everything you haven’t. The most notorious drug ring in the Carolinas rose and fell with me. I survived the raid on the Blacksburg Estate. I’ve been an assassin, a bodyguard, a barber, a father, a shoulder to cry on and a reason to weep – whatever Dick Walker needed, really.

He was my boss, but he was more than that. We were more.

I’ve spent years running from the pain we caused. The pain we shared, too. My legs are tired, I’m exhausted, and it ain’t like I’ve got anywhere to run, if I’m honest. Few roads are open to a dying man.

But I’m offering to let you walk this one with me.

And when we reach the end, detective, I’ll tell you exactly what happened that night at the Grand Odessa.

***
The Grand Odessa is a standalone crime drama featuring a gay protagonist, an unconventional narrative style, and a web of complex, compelling characters.

The 40 But 10: Jean Ende

I've pulled together 40ish questions - some bookish, some silly - and have asked authors to limit themselves to answering only 10 of them. That way, it keeps the interviews fresh and connectable for all of us!

Today we are joined by Jean Ende. She is a native NYer who is trying to exorcise her background by writing fiction influenced by her Jewish family in the Bronx, NY. A former reporter for daily newspapers in Westchester, NY and Jersey City, NJ, she was a press secretary in the NY City government and for several political candidates. When she left politics, Jean spent several years doing communications work for public service organizations which led to her decision to go over to the dark side. An English major with a degree from CCNY, Jean got an MBA from the Columbia University School of Business. She became a VP at a major commercial bank, wrote for business magazines and taught marketing in college management departments. Jean has had two dozen short stories published in print and online magazines and anthologies in the US and England and her work has been recognized by major literary competitions. This is her first novel. Jean and her dog now live in Brooklyn which is a foreign country to anyone from the Bronx. 

What made you start writing?

I’ve always been a writer, can’t remember not writing, that was the way I gained acceptance. The first thing I remember writing was the play my class performed in the fourth grade. I didn’t think I’d be chosen for a part. But I was pretty sure I could write a play that fit the theme. I wrote it, the teacher thought it was great and I cast myself in the lead role. Similarly, my first summer in sleep-away camp I was a pudgy kid who was useless at athletics and picked last for the team. But during color war my team needed some songs to pep up our presentation, I was already writing poetry, found another kid who was feeling left out but could make up tunes. All of a sudden we both had friends and someone to sit next to at mealtime.

 

What’s the most useless skill you possess?

I remember song lyrics. Especially really terrible bubble-gum music from the ‘50s and 60s and theme songs from TV commercials and shows. Total waste of brain cells since I can’t carry a tune and have learned not to try singing out loud when there’s anyone around. I have learned to sing under the car radio or tapes when I’m not alone.

 

What’s the best money you’ve ever spent as a writer?

Going to writers workshops in other states and countries. Nothing beats the opportunity to travel with like-minded people who ask what sort of writing you do instead of what you do for a living. I’ve attended programs in Greece, Italy, Wales, New England, California and Florida in addition to programs near my home in New York. As a result I’ve now got friends of various ages and backgrounds who stay in touch, share literary achievements and provide encouragement.

 

What is your favorite way to waste time?

I watch TV, especially repeats of old series. I watch almost all popular shows, medical, police, family drama but generally avoid quiz shows and never watch sports. When I teach marketing I have to watch the Superbowl because we discuss the ads. But now that the ads are shown online I can avoid the game. I subscribe to almost all available cable networks.

 

 

 

 

What are some of your favorite books and/or authors

Anything written by Grace Paley. I’m in awe of the way she was able to write books that formed such an immediate connection with the reader and at the same time maintained a life as a leading social activist. Almost anything written by John McPhee. His books are so well written that I’ll stay up all night devouring books about things I have absolutely no interest in. I’m the last person in the world who’d ever build a birch bark canoe (see question 23) but I couldn’t stop reading his essay on how to do that. Only exception is his work on geology, just couldn’t get through that.

 

What genres won’t you read?

I stay away from, how to, books. I’m a natural klutz and better off paying someone to put together things for me than to try to figure it out for myself and wind up with wobbly furniture and dishes that don’t look or taste like the cookbook illustrations and descriptions. I’m particularly adverse to gardening books. I have a black thumb and can kill artificial plants. Let farmers, chefs and real craftspeople do what they can do and I won’t resent paying them.

 

Do you read the reviews of your books or stay far far away from them and why?

I read the reviews as soon as I can get my hands on them. Then I read them again and again. Then I ask friends if they agree. Doesn’t matter if they’re good or bad, I need reassurance that my writing is actually being published and people are reacting to it. Definitely use negative reviews to try to improve future writing by understanding what I did wrong or could do better. Have to admit that I firmly believe that positive reviews are written by people who are smarter than those who write the negative things.

 

If you were on death row what would your last meal be?

My first reaction is to say, bring on the high calorie, high carb junk food. After a lifetime of feeling fat, trying to diet and suffering from a guilty conscience because I was a Weight Watchers cheater, I might welcome a chance to stop worrying about how I’m going to look. Jewish funerals involve closed caskets, who would know that I’ve been gorging on buckets of KFC, french fries and the ice cream sundae called the kitchen sink that my friends and I shared in high school after Saturday night movies. But on second thought, it’s hard to imagine what I’d be doing in one of the few states that still permit capital punishment. Can’t believe someone wouldn’t have enough influence to get me a last minute reprieve from the governor so I probably shouldn’t overdo it. A Big Mac, small order of fries and one scoop of ice cream with chocolate sauce and no sprinkles or whipped cream should do it in case I have to appear on the news the next day.

 

What scares you the most?

Senility. I watched my grandmother and then my mother outlive their minds. They were bright, proud, independent women who took too long to die and would have been appalled to see the blithering wrecks they became. I always make sure that I’ve left DNR instructions before any serious medical procedures.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Bookshop    |    Barnes & Noble    |     Amazon 

So, what’s a nice girl from a good family doing in a place like the Bronx House of Detention?

 

Like all immigrants who flee persecution, when the Rosens escaped the Nazis they thought life in America would be perfect. And for a while it seemed like it was. The men started businesses and provided comfortable homes with a mink stole in every hall closet, the women served abundant helpings of high carb food and offered Nobel-worthy diplomacy and grandma preserved traditions while finishing a bottle of whiskey every week.

 

But then cracks began to appear and the whole structure became shaky. American born, teenager, Rebecca, pushed boundaries so far the family story suddenly included the police and juvenile justice system; her father, a formerly revered Talmudic scholar mourned his loss of status in this money-grubbing society, and a woman with stricter religious beliefs married into the family causing near catastrophic rifts.

 

Although the shadow of the Holocaust is always present, this is frequently a humorous book. People who eat frozen, pre-packaged bagels are condemned, Cossacks with fiery swords who once burned peasant villages are now Bar Mitzvah waiters carrying flaming cherries jubilee, the blonde chippie who’s dating the synagogue president has a poodle-shaped purse that barks in French and no one understands how WASPs can wear leather loafers without socks.

 

This book has enough twists and turns and turmoil to make anyone, from any group, immigrant or Mayflower descendant, cry, Oy Vey!