Customer Reviews

Messiah: A Novel

5 star:		(11)
4 star:		(2)
3 star:		(4)
2 star:		(2)
1 star:		(1)

 

 

From the editor of "Exquisite Corpse" magazine Andrei Cordrescu, we are given several novels in one, unfortunately, in some cases, such as thi--one would have proved sufficient.

One novel here might be called "The Shades" another "Felicity" Another "Gal Gal Hamazal" (which, by the way had me rolling with laughter).

It seems that Codrescu couldn't sustain the gargantuan project he began, although he did a slapdash job of making it seem his best. The black comedy is not lost on me, I merely wish that very cool characters like the Sarajevan orphan Andrea who herself seemed to be messianic enough on her own, and of that species of women one finds it hard enough to find let alone to depict: to Codrescu's credit he appeared to do this, her connubial and compassionate nature the most corporeal and transcendental as well as comic element of the book.

It's unfortunate that this satire careens at such breakneak manic Tom Robbinsesque speeds for at a slower pace or woven together (the sequences) with a stronger sensibility, Messi@h could have delivered the promised land it instead buffaloed it's way through. I suppose it's possible that Codrescu, himself an editor, felt in no need of an editor. I find that unfortunate, even the book jacket design was astonishing, and it was with great enjoyment that I breezed through nearly half the book having Messi@h spike a flat tire and some false notes straining after comedy, in particular with the obvious absurdities of "fundamentalist Christians" and the ribaldry of the "spirits" of our dead "great ones" (according to whom?) such as Aristotle coming back into bodies and incarnating after being disturbed during the cyberplay of tomboyish "Tank Girly" Felicity.

Andrei, please, take this back and edit it and give up the real Messi@h. I'd love to add it to my shelf of great great reads rather than consigning this novel to the stacks of benign and merely amusing books littering so many shelves.

We needed a little more of the adage "less is more." Don't mistake me, Codrescu is a great writer, but...but...

this could have been a miracle (sigh). We readers could have been satisfied but as it stands I was left longing. And for the record as it is possible to be too thin (and I would say too rich) it is also possible to be too clever.

Still, all in all a really good read.

In which the reviewer pans a book that wasn't completely without merit.

Novel premise, interesting beginning, confused and out of character middle, sappy sitcom-like ending. How about some character development? The best books chronicle how their main character(s) learn from the experiences in the book, how they change to overcome obstacles. In Messiah, we see Felicity develop from two-dimensional to, well, two dimensional. Andrea learns that she can cause group climaxes -- gee whiz! She's been through hell on earth, been raped, had her family slaughtered, lost her home, and the best insight we get from Codrescu is that she thinks she might have whored it for four years. Well, at least it was titilating!

The best thing about this book is that it lets (no, it _forces_) readers to draw their own conclusions about every aspect of the story. But then, what part does the author play? Perhaps a mere conduit -- a medium through which the story is told without commentary. But who will channel Hermes once Major Notz dumps Carbon?

What a great book this could have been!

Codrescu puts together an interesting set of heros and villians, and seems determined to work all religions into the "Grand Plan". Very interesting reading, however the gratuitous explicitness especially at the end may put off some readers. The best parts were the depiction of Heaven as a Democratic bureaucracy, and insights into the nature of love, itself.

Wheew! What a superbly layered vision of our time! Codrescu juggles life, death and in-between with the ease of a delightful magician. I felt my self opening up to Codrescu's visionary world and I liked being there: it's as though he invited me as one of the guests. And what a tasty coterie of guests, from both this world, and the next! Codrescu's vision of the end of the millenium party rocks with suureal clear-sightedness, is kind and compassionate, and ultimately hopeful.

This book was so much fun, I may just read it again! He's hit the millenial nail on head with this one! Finally, someone who doesn't buy into that whole Christian end-times baloney, and instead has fun with it!! Beware "Bible-Thumpers"! This book may upset and scare you!! Reminds me ALOT of Tom Robbins!!

Readers who noticed that "Messiah" is a great millenial tale are only half right. "Messiah" is also a great fin-de-siecle novel, like Don Quijote. Miguel de Cervantes parodied all the chivalric romances of the 16th century and the result was a timeless classic -- and the only chivalric (anti) romance left standing. "Messiah" parodies and subsumes all the millenial graphomania of the 20th century & sweeps clean a whole literature.

Ambitious, multifaceted, and composed with the kind of imaginative and verbal virtuosity that puts the reader totally at ease, MESSI@H is a rare and wonderful novel. Let certain literary theorists may claim that the great narratives are dead -- Codrescu¹s MESSI@H is brilliant proof tothe contrary. Its two female protagonists are tough, mysterious, and lovable; their adventures are REAL ADVENTURES, in settings (Jerusalem, NewOrleans, cyberspace, Miltonian/Einsteinian angel space) as sensuously realized as the best of Shahrazad¹s 1001 nights or the tales of the Decameron; and the insights the narrative delivers on practically every major blight affecting our present human universe are worthy of Mark Twain (who puts in a cameo appearance). Witty, erudite (but never condescendingly so), and sailing along under the twin flags of Joyful Pessimism and Bluesy Optimism, Codrescu takes us on a truly memorable journey, proving once again the intuitive truth of William Carlos Williams¹ battle cry: ONLY THE IMAGINATION IS REAL! Anselm HolloAuthor of CORVUS, AHOE, AHOE 2: JOHNNY CASH WRITES A LETTER TO SANTA CLAUS, and forthcoming in the Fall of 99, CAWS & CAUSERIES: Around Poetry and Poets (University of New Mexico Press).

Woven into Andrei Codrescu's MESSIAH, a Byzantine tapestry of incredible lushness, is a wealth of detail that could easily launch a thousand minor novels. Much in the same whimsical tradition of Flann O'Brien's The Dalkey Archives and Raymond Queneau's The Bark Tree, MESSIAH is a work of literature of the continental surrealist stripe. Codrescu's knowledge of arcane religious matters easily rivals that of Umberto Ecco. His insight into the fin de siecle American malaise is as hilarious as it is brilliantly accurate. MESSIAH is a work of language, powerfully poetic. Codrescu's primary calling, that of poet, is amply evident in the exquisite often exotic range of his vocabulary. Like a great jazz musician, his logical improvisations are playful, random, and outlandish. His Bosch-like rendering of New Orleans and Jerusalem, peopled by the pierced, the tattooed, the damned, angels, orphans, apocalyptic madmen, and the great minds of history is darkly comic, presented with a demented zest that pulls the reader headlong and at breakneck speed toward an unpredictable though certainly witty millennial resolution.

Codrescu's latest, MESSIAH, is brilliant in that cartwheely way that Tom Robbins books usually are- jammed packed with more theological, sociolgical, psychological and above all- eschatological- asides then you'd get in a Phd program. Salvation and lets not forget FOOD all are major players (as is the city of N.O.- really the only place to be if armageddon does come down). Smart, sweet (but not cloyingly so), entertaining as hell and satisfyingly thought provoking. The perfect book to run naked with down Bourbon street this new year's eve- and that's my highest recommendation....

If Heinlein's _Stranger in a Strange Land_ got mugged by Angela Carter's _Wise Children_, _Messiah_ might be the result.

Felicity starts out on a crusade to avenge herself upon the sleazy TV evangelist who ripped off her grandmother, but instead gets caught up in the apocalypse, which is staged to begin in Felicity's hometown of New Orleans. Along the way, we meet a bunch of religious scholars who enjoy telling stories about trickster figures, a stressed-out angel overwhelmed by divine bureaucracy and, last but not least, an amnesiac war orphan who keeps changing her biographical details.

For those familiar with Codrescu's dada preoccupations with language, history, and tricksters, _Messiah_ is as much of a crazy celebration as Mardi Gras in New Orleans; for those who are looking for a story that is out of the ordinary, look no further. However, those readers who prefer a sensible linear narrative may find this story a bit too far out to be satisfying.