Customer Reviews

Lullaby

5 star:		(124)
4 star:		(88)
3 star:		(44)
2 star:		(22)
1 star:		(23)

 

 

Chuck Palahniuk has a knack for capturing the pressures of modern life, and the resulting angst and alienation of the people who inhabit it. To that extent, Lullaby is no different from Choke or Fight Club. This really isn't a twist on the horror story as some of the media reviews have made it out to be.

There's the emotionally scarred main protagonist with a dark past secret waiting to be dredged up who surrounds him or herself with a surrogate family. There's the rants against modernity and consumerism and their resulting compulsions. There's the quest on which the main characters embark that culminates in an anarchic free for all. There's the identity switches between characters. And, of course, there's Palahniuk's wisecracks, smart-[aleck] asides, and spare, almost hard-boiled writing style.

Palahniuk does all this so well, so uniquely, that his fans are not going to be disappointed with Lullaby.

What makes Lullaby different from what has come before, and what makes Lullaby his best novel, is that he seems to tackle his usual themes a bit more thoroughly and directly than he has before. And for the first time, Palahniuk introduces the notion of modern access to information as something to really worry about, rather than accept as something that will liberate society. The device he uses here is an ancient African culling spell. A magical spell that poses as a deadly information virus.

If there is anything that is unsatisfying it's the ending, which in typical Palahniuk fashion, resolves the fate in an anarchic free for all of outlandishness. It seems like Palahniuk plots his novels into dead ends, leaving him no way out to end his novels, and he has to resort to, well, what happens in Lullaby.

But that doesn't make Lullaby an unsatisfying novel. And, in the strange world that Palahniuk's characters inhabit, which is still identifiably the world we live in today, the way Palahniuk unravels it all seems to make the only sense in light of what's come before in the novel.

So far, Palahniuk can do no wrong.

Lullaby finds Chuck Palahniuk in a transitional phase. Chances are the Portland author won't be competing with the likes of Stephen King any time soon. And his fans should be thankful.

As a horror novel, Lullaby is anything but a traditional entry in the heavily commercialized genre. Palahniuk's sinister sense of humor prevents the author's fourth novel from achieving a significant scare factor. Or at least the typical horror type of fright.

Our hero is Helen Hoover Boyle. She is a real estate agent with an eye for "distressed" property. The kind of homes where the only permanent residents are not exactly of this world. Helen Hoover Boyle sells haunted houses. She sells them to normal families who seem happy enough, until blood starts running down the walls. After that, the buyers will scramble out of there before they even start unpacking their boxes. Easy money for a realtor who knows where to look. And with the help of a police scanner and a practitioner slash secretary named Mona, Helen Hoover Boyle is very good at what she does.

Our narrator is Carl Streator. A newspaper reporter who, while doing a story on sudden infant death syndrome, comes across a book of poems. More like a can of worms actually.

If words could kill.

The discovery of the infamous "culling song" lights the fuse of Lullaby's plot which eventually intersects the lives of our hero and our narrator, spiraling the book into a constantly building power struggle all the way until the bitter ending. With plenty of Palahniuk's signature quirks, Lullaby will surely satisfy Chuck's rapidly growing fan base.

It is the story just below the surface, however, that will get the wheels turning. Lullaby was inspired by the tragic killing of Palahniuk's own father. The murderer was eventually apprehended and convicted. During sentencing, Chuck had to testify as to whether he believed in the death penalty. Keep these facts (not included in the book) in mind, as they will provide a better appreciation of the novel.

Otherwise, Lullaby may prove just too darn entertaining for the average reader to even notice the deeper message. It is truly a page-turning, hilarious ride. Take the horror sticker off and, in my mind, the brilliantly constructed third chapter is reason enough to buy this one today.

Carl Streator is a journalist working on a story about SIDS (sudden infant death syndrome). He is going on emergency calls to the homes of parents who have just lost their children and researching past SIDS cases looking for clues and a story. He arranges to meet Helen Boyle, premier realtor for distressed haunted houses, a parent who lost a child to SIDS almost 20 years ago.

Carl Streators' journey is a twisted maze of supernatural, paranormal, pagan ritual, truth, discovery, and even love.

Chuck Palahnuik begins your journey into 'Lullaby' in a chilling account of paranormal haunting and when your good and scared he taps into your maternal/paternal needs of protecting children by detailing the deaths of infants. I found the prologue and first couple of chapters difficult to read due to the images he evokes.

If your looking for eloquent prose of beauty and light you need to get a different book. 'Lullaby' is full of gritty descriptions, unusual characters, and a very dry dark sense of humor. You will laugh in this book but in the oddest places.

I did enjoy this book but my biggest criticism is he had great insights about the media that was lost in the side plots and characters in this book. The book asks the questions what if you had the power to kill? What if the media told you how to feel, can you control yourself? Does the end justify the means? Does power corrupt?

You will be surprised by the outragous and unusual events that only Chuck Palahnuik could dream up for us. This is a departure from books like 'Choke' and 'Survivor' that were self discoveries and a step toward the genre of Horror. If you like gritty tell it like it is style you'll like this book.

I liked it and would recommend it.

"Lullaby" tells the story of Carl Streator, a newspaper reporter investigating SIDS (Sudden Infant Death Syndrome) for an upcoming article. As Carl delves into his investigation, a peculiar pattern begins to emerge: a fairytale book, "Poems and Songs from Around the World," is always nearby when a baby dies from SIDS. Carl eventually discovers that the book contains a "culling song," an ancient African song capable of killing anyone who hears it -- instantly. Armed with the culling song's power, Carl soon becomes an unwitting murderer; even *thinking* the culling song in someone's direction is enough to kill that person. Along the way, Carl meets up with Helen Hoover Boyle, a real estate agent who deals in haunted houses, her Wiccan secretary Mona, and Mona's boyfriend, Oyster. Forming an "anti-nuclear family", they set out on a cross-country road trip to destroy all known copies of the song book, before the "virus" is able to spread any further.

Palahniuk's premise is certainly intriguing (albeit difficult to swallow at times), but he stumbles with the execution. The culling song presents the kernel of an interesting idea, but the book feels padded even at a slim 260 pages -- simply put, this is an idea that would have worked much better as a short story. Palahniuk is clumsy in communicating his major themes, taking a heavy-handed approach that simply involves bludgeoning the reader into submission through sheer repetition.

But there is an even larger problem here, one beyond the scope of just this book: Palahniuk is becoming repetitive. He has an incredibly unique voice, but it hasn't expanded much since "Fight Club" and "Survivor". While reading "Lullaby", I was suddenly struck by an observation -- all of the characters sound exactly alike -- in this novel *and* in Palahniuk's other novels. Likewise, the themes of nihilism, media saturation, and salvation-through-destruction are used and re-used over and over. I understand that authors have common themes that they revisit, but after a while, it begins to feel more like a rut than a style. Palahniuk needs to show more growth in this area quickly or he runs the risk of being seen as a one-trick pony.

Overall, the book is interesting, but it never rises above the level of just "OK". If you've never read Palahniuk before, I'd recommend reading either "Fight Club" or "Survivor" instead of this. Here's hoping that Palahniuk branches out into some new areas with his next novel.

The best part about "Lullaby" was the summary inside the front cover. The premise sounds exciting enough: an African culling song can kill with words and the heroes, Helen Boyle and Carl Streator, are out to destroy all copies to redeem them from their previous sins. Seems like something original, occult, and obscure enough to be fresh, right? It isn't.

Palahniuk is a connoisseur of good ideas but can't present them. The author falls back on bad angst, juvenile anti-civilization commentary, and mindless repetition to bludgeon readers into believing that he is a brilliant modern writer. He exploits the fascinating philosophy of nihilism without even offering entertainment in return. His characters are indistinguishable and all speak with the same voice - his. Ultimately they can't express what he wants to say with this book, so he falls back on blatant, preachy, tiresome comments about society which provoke little or no thought. His tone inevitably loses what wit it originally possessed (and let's just say he's no Douglas Adams, either) and deteriorates into self-righteous condescension.

"Lullaby" yearns to be brilliantly avant-garde, artistically misunderstood, and appealing to only a selective, free-thinking minority. Unfortunately, it only manages to be shallow and irritating.

If you can put up with Palahniuk's style, you might enjoy this book. Just don't expect too much.

A journalist researching a story on "crib-death" makes some scary connections between a series of infant deaths and a book of poems from around the world, leading him and a small crew of odd companions on a nationwide quest.

I can't say I really liked Lullaby, but I can't say I didn't either. It was entertaining, and it moved at a good, fast clip. I was always interested. But then there were a few things that just didn't sit well with me. There were times when the characters failed to act in ways we had been taught to expect them to act. Then events start lining up "Hollywood" style; things happen because, well, that's what needs to happen next. It was all too convenient.

Regarding the magic, Palahniuk falls into the ancient trap of letting his magic go unrestricted. All fantasy readers know magic needs to be controlled or it will ruin a good story, so Palahniuk casts his spells then waves his hands to keep us from asking too many questions, which, if he were pressed to answer, would force him to rewrite some chapters and come up with a new ending.

Entertaining, but not very tight.

There's a reason why Chuck Palahniuk is my favorite author: He's quite possibly the most offensive modern writer on the planet. I'm not talking offensive for the sake of being offensive. Every line is scathing, but with a direction. A clear target. He's always got something to throw the spotlight on and make us see things from a different angle.
And maybe this is just my sick sense of humor, but the offensive material makes it just that much more intense. Everything hits with that much more impact. They say that a good book is written based on real-world events and personal experiences. If this is true, Palahniuk's adventures expose the dark underbelly of human existance. He boldly goes where every other writer is too afraid to go. I'm talking about this because Palahniuk's newest novel, Lullaby, touches on some of the most offensive and controversial material he's ever touched on: Dead babies, necrophelia, religion, and paganism just to name a few.
Getting to the synopsis, Lullaby is (to put a 300-some-odd-page story short) about a journalist on a sudden infant death syndrome assignment, who stumbles on a "culling song" in a poems book that, when read or even thought towards someone, instantly kills them. Of course, this sets off a caper-style chain of events where our hero meets several other dysfunctional characters who take off on a road trip to destroy all copies of the culling song.
Going into too much detail would ruin some of the surprise, and dull those cringing feelings you might experience when you read some of the most offensive lines of the book. Simply put, this book is sort of a mixture of that mushy after-sex feeling and the painful muscle spasms of a dry-heave session. A bittersweet sort of feeling that leaves the reader with a head full of profound thought, a stomach full of nausea, and a smirk in the corner of your mouth that you might not even know is there.

The good news is that even slow readers can read this one in a day. The bad news is that's because this book is repetitive and largely lacking in substance. The characters are okay, and there are some interesting ecological details, as well as some extradark humor. Still, this is a 10-page short story stretched over 250 pages.

Chuck Palahniuk freely admits that he wrote this book in three weeks. As in twenty-one days. As in 504 hours. So it took me approximately 1/504th of the time (about an hour) to choke down this sugary litle trifle that he took in the entire "process" of "crafting" it. Isn't there something wrong with that?

The details (as he would say) about Mr. Palahniuk are that he's lazy, out of ideas, and coasting on the success of one really good book. That book was Fight Club, an achievement that I can't help but believe will someday be upheld as a minor fin de siecle 20th century classic. I've read 'em all faithfully since then, and have been consistently disappointed by how completely unwilling he has been to explore *any* new terrain. So if you were thinking about reading this or any other of Mr. Palahniuk's work, here's a quick guide to all of his past and future works:

1) A quirky, undersexed protaganist will be dragged through a series of satirical, increasingly ridiculous events at the behest of an all-knowing alter ego.

2) Said alter ego will be very powerful, with some almost supernatural character traits.

3) At least one (usually more) of the characters in each book will earn something approximating a living by doing something impossibly clever and startingly unethical: marketing haunted houses, making soap from human fat, garnering sympathy by pretending to choke in expensive restaraunts, becoming a mushy new age messiah, strategically blackmailing companies with threats of class action suits, cruising self-help or sex-addiction or survivors groups, etc.

3) Short, clipped sentences. Like a diary. Or something. I guess. Hemingway it's not.

4) Bite-sized chapters. Many of Mr. Palahniuk's readers aren't quite ready for existential weight of 'big kid' books--they get nervous when faced with narrative points that might take longer than ten pages to develop.

5) Flagrant showing-off of the author's "intensive" (i.e., he read a 'fun facts about _____' book at the local library the week before he started writing) research into a specific subject. While these facts make a runny mortar for the fragments of narrative, character, and emotion that he's trying to slap together, the reader will come away knowing more about, say, homemade explosives, cleaning techniques, reconstructive surgery, soapmaking, the human anatomy, witchcraft, serial killers, the history of silk flowers, sex change operations, ecological crises, etc. etc.

5) Deep Stuff will be indexed, sound-bitten, and briefly referenced from time to time. You may be shocked and forever changed to learn, for example, that we are constantly bombarded by the corrupting influence of a highly commercialized media industry. Or that Americans place a high priority on physical appearance. Or that men are being slowly feminized by a culture that is needing them less than ever. Or that we are wreaking havoc on our natural environment and torturing animals before we eat them without ever stopping to consider the consequences of our acts. If any or all of these ideas are completely new to you, you will *love* Mr. Palahniuk's fresh insights into postmodern life. The rest of us already had these insights sophomore year during a series of keggers in Mike Truflowski's backyard.

6) After about 150 pages of what the author seems to consider "momentum," each book ends with a silly, overwrought denouement: typically a larger-than-life showdown with the alter ego/villain du jour in some way. Then a quick, clean resolution.

7) There's more, but I'm getting depressed just thinking about them. And how publishable this guy's formula really seems to be.

That's pretty much the Chuck Palahniuk experience. Lullaby is easily his worst yet, but it does demonstrate his template more openly than any of his previous work. (The dead bird on the cover also provides a helpful visual representation.) Its only conceivable value to anyone might be the service it provides to future lit majors in their discussions of early 20th century pop writers.

It is worth nothing that this is great beach reading, however. Since most people could easily read his entire oeuvre in two days, it might fit nicely into a weekend at the shore. There are worse ways to switch your brain off. Maybe.

Palahniuk is either a genius or a very bad writer, and unfortunately it's not always easy to tell immediately. What I think he is, though, is a PoMo writer wannabe who's a closet sell-out; someone who's sitting astride the fence of art and entertainment, trying to decide what he prefers. He made his first hit with Fight Club and has been riding on a similar formula every since. Five books later, he still hasn't produced anything fresh or new. He reminds me of the episode of The Simpsons when Homer becomes the newest hot artist in town after his failed attempt to build a grill was hailed as a piece of art; and he tries to repeat the same formula repeatedly because that's all he knew how to do. Fortunately, Homer does create something of great scope by the end of the episode, and perhaps Palahniuk is aiming for that great breakthrough as well.

For those who expected this to be a horror fiction, you may be disappointed. There is a lullaby. You hear it, you die. And a reporter is out to investigated the phenomenon. Anyone expected a further Koji Suzuki exploit would not find any more similarities, for Lullaby is populated with your typical Palahniuk characters: eccentrics, loners, people who have bad jobs, or at least bad bosses, and people who's out to inject their own dose of chaos into a villainized order.

In Lullaby, Palahniuk makes yet another assault on the mass media, although he seems to also probe the hypocrisy of those crying out against the mass media as well. For at least all the characters, from the journalist to the ecoterrorist, all seem to be hypocrites of sorts. They are not really as interested in overthrowing the system as they are in ruling it in their own image.

Palahniuk's depiction of the media as "noise" crowding out thought-processes is far from original. It recalls the book Age of Propaganda by Pratkanis and Aronson, that also depicts the strategies of all those who use the media in attempts to shape our thinking. Of course, readers of Lullaby may be immune or at least aware of such attempts, but the reality is that the majority of people buy into this "noise" as perpetuated by the media, so much so that any prolonged instance of silence is deemed uncomfortable. Our daily lives are so inundated by noise from all sources (especially if you live in New York City) that it's sometimes impossible to think. And soon we are no longer able to think without noise.

That is, I believe, Palahniuk's thesis. For the cursed lullaby presents a true dilemma. It's hard enough to stop printed copies of things to circulate, how much more difficult would it be if such a curse was filtered through all means of the media? We would have to crowd out all noise, and be ruled by the reserve dictatorship of silence, and is that what we really want? In the end, Palahniuk doesn't really offer an answer. Perhaps he only wants us to be aware of the dominance of noise in our lives, and for us to tread a careful balance between the dichotomies of noise and silence, altruism and hypocrisy, and to question everything we hear, regardless of whether we agree with the message or not.