From Publishers Weekly
Throughout this deftly written, disturbing novel, Connie Zamora, the almost thirty-year-old narrator, refers to herself as a "strange girl." She's not the only one who sees her this way--and why not? A reclusive cellist and photographer more at ease in the orchestra pit or the darkroom than she is with colleagues or even a lover, Connie relates best to people when observing them through her camera lens. While a cellist in a San Diego theatrical production, Connie is cast to take publicity photos dressed in tight satin and sequins, " 'part of the play, except she shows up in the aisle setting up a telephoto, setting off a flash and flashing a little cheesecake,' " as the producer puts it. Like Connie's job much of what happens subsequently is not what it would appear to be. Do her photos prove that the producer set a fire backstage on opening night and that the director doused it? Is Connie disoriented during the play's tour because of pills or is it simply that she sees things differently? Mazza, who won a PEN/Algren award for How to Leave a Country , tries to comment on the nature of visual and emotional perception, but the novel is ultimately the story of one young woman's skewed observations, detachment and breakdown. Despite Mazza's revealing dialogue and eye for detail, Exposed is a confused effort. It lingers after it has been read, but is in the end unsettling and unsatisfying.
Copyright 1994 Reed Business Information, Inc.
Copyright 1994 Reed Business Information, Inc.
From Booklist
Mazza's second novel, a follow-up to her PEN Nelson Algren Award-winning How to Leave a Country (1992), is a fascinating, unsettling tale, told by an untrustworthy narrator whose perceptions shift and dance manically. Connie, the narrator, is a former newspaper photographer trying to escape her past by joining the pit band of a touring musical-theater company. Pressed into service as the company photographer, Connie believes she has taken a picture of the play's producer setting fire to a theater. Her photos, however, may also implicate the director, someone to whom she may or may not be attracted. Everyone wants her photographs of the fire, but no one understands or interprets them in the same way Connie does. Mazza masterfully interweaves Connie's desire to become totally invisible through her photography (the news photographer is always on the scene but never part of the action) with her need to relate to other people. She also successfully animates the inner life of her thoroughly passive narrator. Mazza hasn't received much popular recognition to date, but this novel could quickly change that. George Needham
