Customer Reviews

The Electric Michelangelo

5 star:		(9)
4 star:		(4)
3 star:		(3)
2 star:		(1)
1 star:		(1)

 

 

The Electric Michelangelo is at once a fascinating study of both character and career. Author Sarah Hall lovingly chronicles the life of tattoo artist Cyril Parks from childhood through later adult life. The novel is set on the norhthern coast of England and later moves to the bawdy atmosphere of Coney Island in Brooklyn, NY. That is where, in the late 1930's, Cyril Parks sets up his tattoo shop and begins his adventures in America.

He eventually meets a woman named Grace, who is a circus performer and also becomes a client of Cyril's. While growing up in England, Cy was primarily influenced by his independent mother, Reeda, as well as his violently disturbed tattooing instructor, Eliot Riley. In the character of Grace, Cyril discovers qualities of both his mother and of Riley. This is a very powerful point of the novel.

Sarah Hall writes some amazing prose, and she infuses humor throughout the story. At times philosophical and symbolic, The Electric Michelangelo has strong, very human characters, and it gives insight into the lives of its inhabitants through the unigue profession of tattooing. The book can be compared to some of the works by John Irving, where we find strong female characters, various points of irony, and offbeat humor surfacing along the way.

This is one of the most original novels I have read this year. Although it is largely narrative, I found myself drawn into the book more and more as the story developed. There was a quiet, unassuming way in which the themes and messages of the book were conveyed. Through Cyril's tattoo artistry, we are shown a unique way of thinking, living, and dealing with the world, based on his art and profession. There is no fluff here. This is a meaty perspective on the human condition using subject matter that I have encountered in no other work. Given the chance, The Electric Michelangelo will lead the reader on a magical, rewarding journey.

This is without a doubt one of the finest novels I have ever read. The writing is pure heaven, the metaphors and similes are creative divinity--where does she get them? She is so highly gifted and so young that she can look forward to a wonderful career and you can be sure that I will follow her progress.

Yes the novel can be heavy going at times but the beauty of her story and her talent as a writer just kept me wanting more and I earmarked so many passages because they were the finest, among the best poetry that I have ever read, her imagination and facility with language is stunning, not to mention the level of research that she did.

A wonderful and rare performance--Bravo!

Electric Michelangelo by Sarah Hall is masterfully written. There are several aspects of the book that I would like to point out.

First, in some ways one of the strenghts to this novel is minimal number of characters, minimal number of cities, and minimal number of intereactions. There are four main characters; Cy, this mother Reeda, his mentor Eliot Riley, and the woman he falls in love with, Grace. The action takes place in two cities; Morecambe England and Coney Island, NYC. Significant dialogue happens in two taverns; the Dog and Pheasant in Morecambe and the Varga on Coney Island. Cyril Parks is loved and protected by a wise mother, Reeda, who runs a boarding house by the sea for TB patients and performs abortions late at night for local girls in trouble. Her emotional stability gives Cy a bedrock of natural compassion and internal resources. She dies of breast cancer and Cy decides to become apprentice to the alcholic Eliot Riley, an angry bitter drunkard who introduces Cy to the profession of tatoo artist. After the death of Eliot, Cy migrates to Coney Island and makes a living on the boardwalk and socializing at the Varga, the local diner for circus and carnival folks. He meets a young angry intelligent beautiful Russian Jewish bareback rider and her horse, Maximus. She is agnostic, skeptical, and obviously has seen much pain and disappointment in her life, which she keeps to herself. Cy loves Grace but her personality is so much stronger than his, that his courtship must be carefully plotted. I will not say more about the straight forward story line since I don't want to ruin the reading experience of others, but the point here is that Hall uses a very minimal approach so as to better explore the few characters and situations she introduces.

Second, Hall engages in skillful social commentary through the interactions of her characters, reminding me of the masterful job that VIctor Hugo does in Les Miserables. Social class and mileau commentary is best revealed by the manner in which the characters navigate to survive. Social commentary has more power through empathy than via lectures. This is true of Les Miserables as well as The Electric Michelangelo.

Third, Hall engages in insightful analysis of the art of the tatoo and the impulses that drive human beings to mark their bodies. Some people mark their bodies to show experiences they have survived, such as military service or service in a particular part of the world. Others, mark their body to show committment. Others mark their bodies to signify loss. Some seek a tatoo so that the painful experience acts as an initiation rite, taking them apart and building them again with a symbol to show they have been rebuilt. Some men select terrible images to attempt to warn other men to stay away from them, that they are dangerous. Her commentary on the purposes of tatoo are skillfully interwoven throughout the work.

Fourth, but you may ask "what is this book really about?" I would say that the overwhelming theme is recovery from loss, the resources we have to overcome loss, the lessons we learn from overcoming loss, and the baggage we carry into our next significant relationships and situations from our previous loss.

The language is poetic and vibrant, the characterization exact and empathetic, the flow of events was strategic, and in the end Hall has produced an incredible book. She wrote this book when she was 30 years old. She has certainly learned a lifetime of lessons in her short life and she reveals these lessons like a master.

The Electric Michelangelo is a well-written, thoughtful novel that vividly portrays the places in which it is set. It is the life story of Cyril Parks, who is born and grows up in the English seaside resort Morecambe, raised by his widowed mother. The first third of the book is about his childhood experiences, told as a series of anecdotes (mostly the trouble he gets into with his friends, as well as the discovery that his mother is an illegal abortionist.) Later, he is apprenticed to Eliot Riley, a tatoo artist who is a drunkard and loudmouth. For many years, Cy has a love-hate relationship with Riley, who he reviles but sees as a father-figure. After Eliot's death, Cy sails to America, and sets up his own tatoo parlor, The Electric Michelangelo. The most important events that follow have to do with Cy's relationship with Grace, whose body he covers in eyes.

The book definitely has many strong points. Hall has a gift for describing the more disgusting parts of human nature, so while not easy to read, everything in this story rings sadly true to our minds. The world of Coney Island with its bars, carnivals, and freak shows is brought to life.

However, the story itself does not leave one feeling satisfied. None of the characters are easily likeable, not even Cy. He has moments of revelation about himself that Hall manages to write without seeming preachy, but most of the time he is getting drunk and being unable to rid himself of Riley's ghost in his mnd. Hall also tends to digress about minor character at lengths that are not really necessary.

But despite these flaws, The Electric Michelangelo deserves its Booker Prize shortlist, and in my opinion is a better book than the winner. I would recommend this book as a thought-provoking read.

I couldn't resist this 2005 novel when I heard it was about a tattoo artist. The fact that it was writen by Sara Hall, a Brit born in 1974 and a Booker Prize finalist with a fresh new voice in literature, made it even more appealing.

From the very beginning I was captivated. Ms. Hall paints pictures with words and stirs emotions. And most of the emotions she stirs are disturbing and sometimes bordering on the grotesque. The story is compelling too, beginning in the seaside town of Morecambe, England, where working class consumptives whose lungs were destroyed by the mills and the coal mines, often took their one-week vacation in the quest for good clean sea air. Indeed, Ms. Hall was raised a few towns away and her descriptions of a widow hotelkeeper and her young son Cy the early part of the 20th Century introduced me to a time and a place that I will never forget. I will also never forget the main character, Cy, who grows up in the town where he apprentices to a foul-mouthed hard-drinking tattoo artist with a garrulous nature and larger-than-life persona.

Later, our hero travels to America, where he sets up tattooing in Coney Island. It is the 1930s now, and Coney Island is in its heyday. Even though it was across the ocean from Cy's native Morecambe, it was a similar seaside resort catering to the appetites of a working class population looking for the outrageous and bizarre as a break from their own lives of struggle during the depression. Here, Cy meets Grace who does a horse act and even manages to sneak the horse into her Brooklyn apartment. She's a refugee from war-torn Europe, her background is a mystery and she, too, is larger than life. She wants an outrageous total body tattoo, and this act, with all its needles and inks and pain, is described in exquisite detail as an intimate connection between these two potential lovers. How it all plays out is not what I expected. There's an act of violence. There's an act of revenge. And then there are the years that pass.

Eventually, I was left with a feeling of discomfort as well as completion. And I was also left with the feeling that Sara Hall is an extremely talented writer and that we will hear a lot more about her in years to come. Naturally, The Electric Michelangelo is not for everyone. But if you like a novel with a fine writing style, in-depth complex characters and a sense of looking at weird and offbeat side of history, you'll love this book.

This novel is breathtaking.

I found the writing to be exciting with just the right amount of embellishment and it has a beautiful flow. The subject matter is painstakingly researched and the settings are wonderfully textured. The plot is dark, complex, and fascinating. When I found out it was only the author's second novel, I was amazed. This is a masterfully crafted novel for someone so young.

This is easily one of the most intriguing books I have read in over a year. I highly recommend this book for anyone who appreciates beautiful use of language.

THE ELECTRIC MICHELANGELO by Sarah Hall was a very good character story of the Bildungsroman variety. Young Cyril Parks matures through a series of life's lessons beginning with his mother's tuberculosis hotel, adolescent high-jinks, and a non-traditional apprenticeship with a scurrilous tattoo artist, Eliot Riley. From there he ventures into the world "on his own," to find love and success, or at least his own definition of both. The first half of the novel is set in a sleepy little English seaside town, and the second half in New York's Coney Island shortly before World War Two.

Sarah Hall is an up and coming master of prose, and in this work she has added delightful character descriptions reminiscent of Lawrence, Faulkner, or James.

For those experienced with the world of tattoos, or for anyone who has ever seriously considered one, this story will surely be compelling.

I bought this based on Amazon reviews and now it is a book I highly recommend.

Sarah Hall's "The Electric Michelangelo (EM)" made last year's Booker shortlist. Perhaps it should have gone on to win the prize `cos it really is kind of special. A narrative with minimal dialogue about the life of tattoo artistes and their strange, subterranean low life trade, it is specifically about one Cyril Parks, who through his blood-streaked sweat-tainted craft, helps to restore the damaged parts of individuals (no, not freaks) who are often victims of some act of human deprivation or violence. For the first time, light is cast upon the murky practice of tattoo artistes and the psyche of their clients and it is entirely to Hall's credit that she has successfully woven together different elements of human interest to tell a story that is at once intriguing, poignant and redeeming. The love story - if it can be described as such - between Cy and Grace isn't what you'd expect. In Grace, all the hurts of living come together, so the twist at the end should come as no surprise.

Without a doubt, Hall spares us little about the seediness of the business but it's her excellent characterization that makes EM such an absorbing read. Cy's mentor, the drunk and dissolute Eliot Riley, a complex Fagin type character, is like a spirit haunting our protagonist long after he's been written out of the plot. Reeda, Cy's mother, another fascinating character, is described by Hall as "graceless", yet exudes nothing if not grace in the way she calmly accepts all kinds of curved balls life throws at her. Pity Hall never resolved to any degree of clarity Reeda's past relationship with Riley. Finally, there's Grace, a Jewish immigrant treading the boardwalks of Coney Island as a circus girl, and a revelation. Silent and mysterious, she's the hardened survivor who hasn't lost her vulnerability or surrendered her soul and is the embodiment of the spirit of Reeda and Riley.

"The Electric Michelangelo" is quite simply gorgeously written, a thing of beauty. Hall's lyricism is illuminating, never showy. Read pages 260 and 261 of the English paperback edition and you have all the insight you'll ever need into the cult mentality of those who seek the permanence of tattoos on their bodies. Quite brilliant.

Sarah Hall's book was one of the most unusual ones of the year. Written after Haweswater, it was a fantastic debut and deserves all the rich praise that it got. Frankly all the other books in the Booker last year had an excess of Henry James except for one of them. This one about youngster, Cy Parks, who gets seduced by an art and apprentices under a drunkard who still is one of the best tattoo artists, Eliot Riley. After that he moves to America, where he sets shop in Coney Island. The early part of the Coney Island is beautifully described here. The art never leaves the reader at any portion. It shows about the description of pain in the art of the needle. It also shows the different people Cy meets and the passions he feels and pain of separation. His relationship with Grace, a Jewish tight rope walker is one to brake ones heart. She requests a single tattoo on her back, a black rimmed green eye. In accepting the task, Cy commits himself to experiencing with unprecedented immediacy the conflict between his priestly sense of his artistic calling and the claims of the flesh he routinely handles with such privileged intimacy. The outcome of that conflict is neither simple nor decisive, but high aspiration and fleshly desire are tentatively reconciled at last in his retrospective acknowledgment that perhaps those difficult, exhilarating tattooing sessions "were the times he was making love to her after all". This is a unique novel about art, passion, detail, human feelings and a unusual phase of America that combines to give an elevated impression. It is one of the best in a while and should be given more praise than it got.

This review is coming from a casual reader -- one who enjoys a good story, but doesn't necessarily need to pick things apart and analyze the who/what/why -- even when a book could truly merit such a discussion. When I purchased the book, I was primarily interested in the historical aspect which is my absolute favorite genre. And the subject matter was intriguing, as I had never read a book about tattooing. However, I was slightly discouraged after seeing the book is mostly narrative, and paragraphs can go on and on with no dialogue to give the eye a place to rest. It was definitely tiring at times to get through the pages, but the story itself was very good.

The Electric Michelangelo introduces us to Cyril Parks as a 10-year-old boy in turn-of-the-century England. He lives with his widowed mother in a seaside hotel that caters to clients with tuberculosis, and he spends his days cleaning up after the "patients". The story meanders slowly, and some of the more interesting parts deal with Cyril and his two friends, Morris and Jonty. Eventually, Cyril grows up and meets his mentor, Eliot Riley, who teaches him the art of tattoo. Later on, Cyril takes his new-honed skills to New York's Coney Island, where tattooing fits right in with the amusement parks and circus freaks.

Perhaps the best part of the story happens after Cyril meets Grace, one of the circus perfomers who asks Cyril for a favor that will forever change both of their lives. In fact, the last 1/3 of the book was undeniably the quickest part to read and most enjoyable. The story comes full circle in the end, and made the long trudge through the wordier bits to be well worth the committment.

As a whole, I am glad I read this book. The writing was well done and deserves the award it was nominated for. However, for those casual readers like me, it may be a bit of a labor of love to get through the pages as the writing tends to be a little too well done. Poetic and descriptive (for the word lovers) and a great involving story for everyone. I would recommend.