Customer Reviews

The Gargoyle

5 star:		(196)
4 star:		(79)
3 star:		(41)
2 star:		(19)
1 star:		(17)

 

 

Read this book. Read it. Just shut up and read it, already. Are you reading it? Why not? I told you to read it!

"But it's yucky!" you complain. "The narrator gets all burned and gross, and he's mean, and what's up with the crazy lady?"

All right, yes, I will grant you, the first few chapters are incredibly difficult to get through, particularly if you have a delicate stomach. The unnamed narrator does, indeed, get in a horrific car crash where he is terribly, almost fatally, burnt. What follows is a stomach-turningly graphic depiction of what goes on in a burn ward. Stephen King would probably turn green at some of these scenes. You will be tempted to set "The Gargoyle" down and walk away. But I'm begging you to come back. Your suffering will be rewarded.

This is what Marianne claims, as she enters the narrator's life in the gown of a psychiatric patient at the hospital. She is jealous of his pain, as she believes that it means God has not forgotten him. Marianne is 700 years old, born in the year 1300 and raised in a convent. She is overjoyed when she meets the scarred narrator, as she believes that he is her long-dead lover returned to her. She then must set about convincing him of her story: of how the two fell in love all those years ago and how they were separated, about her divine mission to set her hearts free by carving huge gargoyles out of stone, and about the redemptive powers of love, suffering, and sacrifice.

So much happens in this book I don't even know how to start describing it. Marianne takes the narrator in and begins telling him stories. Interspersed with the tale of her own past are four other short love stories, set in eras and locations as varied as feudal Japan, medieval Italy, Victorian England, and Viking Iceland. These stories weave in and out of the main one, forming tentative connections and complementing its themes. Literary classics are alluded to as well, most notably Dante's Inferno. People suffer and die (or not), they sacrifice everything they have for love, they create powerful art and watch it destroyed, they journey to the underworld, and they approach God. And through it all are the two lynchpins of this book, love and pain, forever entwined, each intensifying the other, unwanted and unlooked for but present in every page.

This is quite simply one of the most powerful, intense, gripping, and captivating books I have read in a long time. Maybe it's too intense for some readers; I can tell already from the reviews that many are put off by this love story between the disfigured misanthrope and the schizophrenic artist. But if you have the strength to shoulder the burdens Andrew Davidson places on the reader, I promise, your suffering will be rewarded.

As ever, the plot is adequately summarized in other reviews, so I will not go in detail here. Instead, I will tell you why you should read this novel.

I can understand why many people didn't like this book. I personally loved it, but that is not the point, yet. Many people will not like the details that the author describes about burn recovery and/or will be displeased with the other physical descriptions.

One reviewer goes so far as to mention the eponymous character a "male fantaasy". Which is amusing to no end, if you have read this novel. The male lead is not a fantasy for most men. It would simply be awful. It is clear in his description that he loathes his life, even before his accident.

One of the refreshing things about the book is that the narrator never asks for forgiveness from the reader. He doesn't ask for understanding. He is unrelentingly self-interested for the beginning of the book and then interested only in Marianne Engel for the remainder. This, to me, was beautiful. It was a description of the healing moment for a soul in agony. The narrator, whose name we never learn, spends the beginning of his life hating himself and those around him. He doesn't feel anything, ever. It's only after he has lost everything that he valued and is stripped of the empty shell of his life that he begins to gain an understanding of beauty and compassion.

His growth is charming, including his involvement in the relationship of other characters. The author has done a wonderful job of creating two individuals, tied to one another: The Narrator and Marianne Engel. The remainder of the characters do indeed lack detail, with few exceptions (and the ones that are present are awkward enough to seem a heavy-handed redaction at the behest of an editor - thankfully, they are brief). The point is never that these people are supposed to be detailed. The point is that they are vignettes, stories of a love in another time and in another place.

The backstory of Marianne Engel and the Narrator are also beautiful and tragic. Both stories interweave in the fashion of an experienced storyteller. Normally I find the maintenance of stories in two timelines to be quite tedious. The efforts to reintegrate them is always awkward and predictable. In this case, however, Marianne Engel is a constant. And she is not merely telling a story of a different time and place. She is reminding her love who he is.

One final comment. The portrayal of the characters in this novel is what gives it its beauty. Some reviewers have mentioned that there is little conflict in the present story (although there is plenty in the vignettes and in the backstory). This is untrue. There is conflict between the Narrator and himself. In reality, there are really only two characters in this tale, and even Marianne Engel is secondary. The character that is of interest has no name - he is our narrator. The detailing of Marianne Engel is quite accurate for a person with a mental disorder (or a person who has lived 700 years on a divine mission), the detailing of the dog, the nurses, and the other characters is also spot on, the point is the main character. The point is that he has learned to love. The point is that he has learned to accept his heart, and to release it.

Within the last forty pages lie the most beautiful description of love that I have ever read. Also here is the most exquisite description of faith that I have ever experienced.

It is a tale of love. And of loss. And it should be read by anyone who has ever loved or ever lost. Or both. Rent it, buy it, steal it. Just read it. Then pass it to someone you love.

A

Harkius

This is an amazing book. Rarely you come across a novel that opens up a whole new world. Davidson has earned my eternal gratitude. The writing is beautiful, the characters realistic, and the story kept me riveted. I began to care about the characters very quickly, and then I had to know what would happen to them. I love that in a novel.

One of the subplots concerns the lives and mystical writings of an obscure group of medieval Dominican nuns. That hardly seems like a spellbinding topic, but by page thirty I was searching the internet to find all I could about them. Davidson makes them come alive. The historical elements are accurate, as are some of the historical characters. There was no embellishing of the past here.

There is a gruesome crash at the beginning of the book, and a realistic medical description of burn treatments that may be too graphic for some readers. The main character begins as a very unlikeable character, and there is some description of his career as a pornographer. Nevertheless, the narrative does not descend into prurience.

The power of love suffuses this work, even though hate has its day. The protagonist must learn much about the cleansing power of penance. As he hears someone say to him in a dream, the world is nothing but a crucible. This is an amazing book.

The book's preview does give a very good sense of what it is about. This does lead you into the life of a man who does not have much of a moral compass. He is a pornographer, a drug user and quite full of himself, and his accidental burning dramatically changes his life. This is not a feel-good revelation of a bad man turned good. It is a more realistic and sometimes uncomfortable account of his terrible misfortune and all that encompasses it.

I give the author much credit for what seems to be very authentic accounts of the realities someone in this situation might face. That said, it may leave some people uncomfortable if they are squeamish about the subjects of medical procedures, religious faults (Dantes inferno plays a large part), frank sexual inclusions or if they have a dislike of medieval lore. If you happen to think these things are interesting, you will LOVE the book.

The author also weaves four completely separate stories into this one with the premise that those involved in the ancient stories are vaguely connected to him due to a past life (if the person telling him the stories is sane)and so you go on quite a journey to find out what lies at the end.

While I did enjoy the book and wanted to find out how it closed, it was a bit frustrating because there is a lot of detail that could have been edited out without changing the story and possibly made it a more enjoyable read. It sometimes felt like listening to a really good joke.................but wondering just how long until the punchline?

Underneath it all, the story itself is interesting and does leave you wanting to know more until it is finally revealed in a happily unpredictable way. Not happily in the sense of happy ending, but happily in a way that many authors can't accomplish...giving you an ending you did not immediately predict.

I'm sure this author will go on to write more books and will find fans, especially those who love his authenticity. It may take you a while to read, but I would recommend that you do.

Andrew Davidson, "The Gargoyle". Debut novel. Unbeliveable. I would leave it at that, but I must explain. If I can. Love that follows through life time after life time. Souls that find one another time and time again. Pain, sorrow, despair and anguish that holds you until souls are united and love becomes the healer once again. Are we ready to accept or do we analyize and dismiss based on our limited minds? Do we feel or think? Believe or disbelieve? How do we know? This book is so remarkably written, with beautiful stories of everlasting love and painful rememberences of lives lived. This book is complicated. Love is complicated. But it is also simple. Honest. Painful. Read the book. Feel the words. Enjoy.

This is the first book I've ever read where three vice-presidents and top editors of a world-renowned publishing house wrote and signed a glowing foreword for any author. I was impressed, and due to the pre-hype and outstanding publicity for The Gargoyle by Andrew Davidson, I couldn't wait to read it.

They bill it as "an international sensation ... the most extraordinary debut novel of the decade, a riveting love story about the redemptive power of suffering and a romance that transcends the limits of time and space," but unfortunately, I don't see it that way.

Davidson is definitely a gifted author, with an amazing voice and an enthralling way with words. Written in the voice of a poor, beleaguered, unnamed man who is severely burned in an auto accident, Davidson's description--through the man's eyes--is magnificent in purity and depth. And he blew me away with his description of what burn victims suffer during rehabilitation; this part is so authentic, it's obvious the author researched the book from every angle. It's a brilliant book.

Even though the protagonist was a coke-addicted pornographer and had a horrible background, my heart softened towards him due to the horrific burns he suffered and what he went through during rehabilitation. I genuinely liked him.

The man is in such pain he forms an elaborate suicide plan, which he later abandons when a schizophrenic fellow patient, Marianne Engle, begins to visit him. This beautiful woman pulls him back from the brink with unbelievable stories about them being soulmates, dating back to medieval days. Marianne's tragic love tales are so historically convincing and her emotion so real that the burn victim gradually begins to believe in her, eventually falling in love with her ... again in this life.

When the man has recovered enough to try living outside the hospital on his own, Engel, a successful sculptress of gargoyles, offers to take him into her home and care for him. She, too, won my heart by her obvious love and concern for the patient. I cheered when the doctor reluctantly consented and allowed him to try it with her.

When suddenly the tables turn and he ends up taking care of Marianne and learns the secret behind her sculpting--what she goes through to "release the gargoyles from the stone"--that's when my enchantment with the woman began to wear thin.

And my enchantment with the author soured a little!

When Davidson drags the sculpting scenes out, by sending the sculptress back to the studio time and time again in her wild obsession with the gargoyles--to the point of making herself ill--I think he overdid it. I grew bored with those repetitious chapters and this is where the author and Engel truly lost my deep concern.

But when the man has his big epiphany with Michael the Archangel, I became thoroughly lost. I didn't understand this part and was unhappy with the ending of this much-heralded novel. I never did understand just who "The Gargoyle" is. Since Gargoyles were called "Grotesques" in earlier times, perhaps the burn victim is meant to be "The Gargoyle." Since Engel sculpts the Gargoyles from a smooth slab of marble, I thought at first she might do a reverse with the man and make him perfect again, if not in body, then in spirit. Perhaps she did. Could that be another pertinent point I missed?

Perhaps the fault is mine; maybe it's the kind of book I need to read twice in order to understand. I'm willing to do that. Should a second reading bring it together for me, I'll return and change my rating: 3-stars.

(I need to make it clear that I think Davidson is a 5-star writer with a brilliant imagination and that The Gargoyle is a high-concept novel. It just was not clear to me.)

This could be said by Marianne Engel as she "releases" her gargoyles:
"I saw the angel in the marble and carved until I set him free." - Michelangelo

This review based on an Advance Reading Copy
Reviewed by: Betty Dravis, 2008
author of 1106 Grand Boulevard

After a terrible accident leaves him burnt beyond recognition, the narrator of The Gargoyle begins to receive an odd visitor in the hospital where he is convalescing. Her name is Marianne Engel, and she seems to be mentally ill. Before long, Marianne is visiting frequently, spinning intricate tales to the fascinated narrator. Her fables involve gifted artists, hardworking landowners, outcast orphans; all ill-fated lovers, all with stunningly touching stories. One story though, seems more puzzling than most. Marianne reveals the story of the past. It is the story of the love between the burnt man and Marianne herself, lovers long ago in Medieval Germany. As he begins to heal, the narrator becomes more involved in the stories of the strange woman, not knowing whether to believe in her mental instability, or in the impossible story she tells. Gradually, the lines of perception begin to blur, and the curious story begins to take on its own life, leading the injured man towards the realms of the unimaginable that will culminate in the cataclysmic bowels of hell.

I found this book completely immersing. The atmosphere was deliciously dark and the author's handling of the plot was extraordinarily deft. The story pulled me in and never let up until the stirring ending. The graphic depictions of the narrator's severe burns and subsequent treatment was a little unsettling, but it was extremely well researched and related with an uncommon elegance as to be informative and interesting, as well as shocking and horrific. Though serious in nature, the book also had moments of sardonic humor and exceptional moments of insight. The main story was folded among various other smaller stories, with particular focus on the story of fourteenth century Germany. Each successive story in the narrative grew in focus and detail and all were extremely captivating.

The narrator, who remains unarmed throughout the book, was a bit churlish and cynical, yet I had no problems relating to him or finding sympathy for his character. The talent of the author in his ability to make an unlovable character moving and sympathetic was impressive. I rooted for him to find his way and learn to accept the myriad changes that he must learn to deal with. His eventual bravery in the face of overwhelming obstacles was a heartening change from the self-pity and suicidal despair that first enveloped him. It was as though through each successive chapter I could see the character growing and changing, his mind becoming more resolved, his heart opening and becoming more accepting. It was a tremendous feat to witness. Marianne was also an alluring and compassionate character whose inconsistencies and frailties were depicted in a tolerant and open-minded way, something that is not afforded to most eccentrics. Her struggles with her artistic vision and her fantastical beliefs were never overplayed or too dramatic. Her certainty and determination were admirable, and the passion with which she drove herself was both frightening and formidable. It was interesting to see the two of them react to each other's differences, and to watch their growing attachment unfold. A more unlikely pair could scarce be imagined.

This story will appeal to a wide audience, but the vivid detail of the burn information may be off-putting to some. I feel that the story was actually enhanced by this level of detail. It was extremely believable and accurate, and it heightened the story's impact and made me understand the character's situation all the more readily and believably. The information regarding mental illness was also authentic and informative. As well as advancing the plot, it provided a wealth of character description and enhancement that would have been laborious done any other way. The story was as compelling as the style in which it was written. Some of the passages were downright conspiratorial and secretive, while others were flowing and beautiful. This book had no easy answers. The subject matter was difficult, but ultimately rewarding and thought provoking.

This is a book that I can see reading over and over again, and taking away something different each time. I have not enjoyed a book more than this one in a long, long while. I was amazed to find out that this is Davidson's first novel. He strikes me as an interesting man who has a uncommon perspective on many things. As a writer, he is very impressive. I think this book is destined to be a big hit, and deservedly so. I consider it an instant favorite. Highly recommended.

Other reviewers manage to give reasonable skeletons of the plot, but one thing with this novel is that basic shape doesn't give a good idea of the flavor. Sure, there are some stereotyped or possibly overplayed elements (but hey, who here is entirely original?!) like the Spunky Asian Girl and the Neurotic Psychiatrist, but what makes them worth your while, and what most reviewers seem to be forgetting, is that they are given to us THROUGH a first person narrator, who is self consciously aware that he is writing a book. (You get a prize if you survived that last sentence).

First-person narration is notoriously and wonderfully unreliable--as we read and try and decide if this person really is as unlikeable as he started out, he in turn is trying to decide if Marianne is nuts, or just another woman (out of many) or, maybe, the real deal.

It's a risky thing--that apparently didn't pay off for some readers--to introduce the narrator as he was: an arrogant smug, drug-abusing dirtbag. Yuck, I said, after reading the first three pages. This guy deserves what's happening to him and it's gross. I put it down for a week. Then I picked it up again, deciding to give it another chance. On the second try, I got swept into Davidson's use of language--he has some breathtaking similes in this novel, and some beautifully evocative prose, and the story unfolds through a variety of tale-telling that covers a host of emotions. Some of the mini-stories are wonderfully sad, and there are points where the narrator actually made me laugh with his sarcasm.

So, people seem pretty split on this novel, and I think I can suggest why: if you like hard-hitting plots with lots of action and tension and a breakneck pace, you will not like this book. If you don't like 'literary' language, or having to figure out what to do with interrupted narratives, you will not like this book.

However, if you like beautiful writing, complex narrative structures and a protagonist who is, if not loveable, is surely fascinating, you will love this book. It has a deep sense of literariness to it, and most of his historical research is faultless. Really a wonderful, if kinda-ugly book.

If you answered, "yes," then according to our narrator, who is faced with this question in his journey through his own Hell (versus Dante's), you understand nothing of love.

More than anything else, this is a love story. What's unique about it for me is the depth (to Hell and beyond!) and the intricate way the details (very bold, vivid imagery) all fit together to make a rare masterpiece.

We begin with the male narrator: An atheist, alcoholic pornographer, who burns horribly in a car accident. During the time the narrator is recovering in the hospital, several things are happening at once: The pace is remarkable because for me, it was perfect ... the action flows well with the introduction of new characters, and not for one single word was I bored or confused. Also, little details here and there which had me thinking, "well, that's a bit weird!", such as the flaming arrows coming from the forest which distracted the man right before his car accident, are all valid pieces to this masterpiece. Both arrows and fire play a recurring role in this book.

I loved the contrasts in the story. One of them is belief/faith vs. disbelief. While our narrator is an atheist, our heroine is a former nun. This contrast speaks to me that love is possible even when it may not seem to be. While the stories she tells are told as undoubtable truths and history, we the reader have the choice of considering that she may have a mental condition that prevents her from realizing that what she believes as fact, as history, really did not happen. Similarly, when the narrator takes his journey through Hell, we again have the option of believing he is simply hallucinating as he goes through morphine withdrawal.

The stories Marianne tells about her past and her love for the narrator, are pure magic. The narrator calls them fairy tales, but they are in no way all giddy perfection and happy endings. The settings and personal backgrounds are attention-grabbing and actually quite thrilling. There is a couple living in 1347 in Italy: the husband Francesco was a blacksmith (but not the best, and he was a little too hairy and his body showed that he ate too much pasta), and his wife Graziana was kind (but no great beauty); they were happy. (I won't give away what happens next.) There were several other couples: the Viking couple who helped an orphan was my favorite. I actually enjoyed having my heart shredded to bits during stories of people who love truly and deeply making sacrifices I don't know that I could make (though I wish I would be able to - the story makes you want to love as well as these characters do).

I even fell in love with or was enthralled with the secondary characters: Just to name a few (among many!) there is a vile snake that lives in the narrator's spine and his voice is spoken with white capitalized text upon a black box of background; the character Jack is a delight - I was expecting one thing and laughed aloud when my expectations were proven a little off.

The action never flags, but nor does the development of the characters. Most make repeat appearances, which is very satisfying. As the narrator heals more and more from his burns, Marianne gets more and more involved with finishing her certain number of gargoyles. As she becomes more and more obsessed, she seems to weaken as the narrator grows stronger. Eventually, she finishes the story of their history together, their love and their life, and she tells him he will know what to do (actually, she's been telling him this all along)... does he do it? What are the consequences of his choices? Read it to find out - you'll be glad you did.

Yes, this novel is quite otherworldly and like nothing I've ever read before. As you become more and more enmeshed in the story, it begins to feel like a strange dream. A dream filled with horror, physical pain, mental torture and, then ultimately, by the unexpected transformations that arise.

Some do not like reading first person narratives, but it served this story well. You will find difficulty reading the early pages when our narcissistic, porn mogul describes each agonizing detail of being on fire and his journey through months---no, years of treatment, surgeries and rehab. Davidson tells this story so well, that I kept wondering if he had, himself, ever been a victim of a serious burn. I then found myself searching his bio to see if perhaps he had medical training, enabling him to describe these horrors so well. If none of the above, he did his research well.

Marianne Engel, the ethereal, tattooed contradiction, enters our burn victim's room. Just who, or what is she? She appears to be of brilliant mind, speaking many languages and professing to have lived 700 years, fulfilling a mission of giving out hearts. She accomplishes this by bestowing them into her gargoyle sculptures, with such ferocity, that at times it threatens her life. She begins to recount numerous stories of medieval times. Times, when she believes she first met the burn victim. Over the months, a relationship evolves, but it is one of complexity. Are the stories she tells part of a fixed delusional system, or is she truly carrying messages from beyond?

This is not a beach read. It explores the darkness that can devour the human spirit, while guiding you to the light, in very unexpected ways. It is meant to be a thoughtful, spiritual journey---one that stimulates the mind to search for deeper meaning. In total, I found it to be a beautiful story of learning to love ourselves, of opening up to possibilities, after which we can learn how to accept a heart, while giving one away. This one will stick in my memory for a long, long time.