Customer Reviews

Monster, 1959

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

 

 

Maine sets up the book as a spoof of 1950s horror films, complete with corny dialogue, while at the same time echoing John Gardner's "Grendel" in that Maine tries to get into the "head" of a mutant, 40-foot monster. Some of the writing, particularly in the deptictions of the characters of Betty and Doug, is very good, and there's a good deal of excitement as well as sex and gore. But Maine has axes to grind about the United States and the world of the 1950s, and the novel, short as it is, suffers from the pretty naked preaching about Iran, Palenstine and Hungary.

If you thought the 1950's monster movie story was all used up, David Maine will prove you wrong as soon as you've hacked your way through a few pages of jungle on his nuclear-contaminated island. Maine includes all the parts left out of the originals: the primitive sacrificial victim who preceded the beautiful blonde intruder, the sluggish thought processes of the innocent vegetarian monster. He even fleshes out the highly interesting sex life you always fantasized about between the square-jawed hero and the big-busted heroine he saves. Gotta love it!

An arch, sardonic comic-book of a novel that brings technicolor into a black and white landscape. Definitely a romp.

David Maine made a modest name for himself with his first book: The Preservationist, a novelization of the story of Noah's ark. His next two books: Fallen and The Book of Samson were likewise novelizations of biblical stories. All three of those books were enjoyable and creative.

With Monster, 1959, Maine leaves the bible behind (although, if it was a story from the bible, it would have been my favorite one by far. Every Sunday growing up I would have been praying that the Sunday School lesson was going to be about the 40-foot monster that terrorized the wicked people of Galilee or Nineveh) and attempts to either pay homage to the B-movie monsters of the 50's or to perpetuate his own political ideologies.

The story is blatantly unoriginal - hapless thrill-seekers stumble upon an island inhabited by a monster (the result of nuclear fallout from the government's testing in the Pacific in the early '40s). The monster kidnaps a blond from the expedition, is then captured, taken back to the U.S., and displayed across the country as the headliner of a circus. Maine's own political views are inserted throughout the book, almost randomly, and by the end I was left with the impression that his real intent in writing the book was to give those views a platform to stand on and decided at the last minute that he ought to accompany them with a story. So he combined Godzilla and King Kong and thought, "It is good." It was not.

An interesting pastiche on "King Kong" and '50s monster movies is marred by anachronisms (having Sinatra singing "New York, New York" more than 25 years before the song was written; "Fiddler on the Roof" playing on Broadway six years before it opened). That might be forgiven as plain laziness by the writer, but the repeated inclusion of completely extraneous anti-Israel slurs (such as comparing them to Nazis) marks Maine as a writer with an agenda I do not wish to encounter again. Even referring to "Palestinians" is anachronistic as the local Arabs certainly weren't calling themselves that in the 1950s, and the West Bank and Gaza were being occupied not by Israel at the time but Egypt and Jordan. In his closing credits Maine references classic Israel bashers like Noam Chomsky and a Palestinian website. If the book was focusing on Maine's anti-Israel bias, his claims and distortions could be discussed and shot down. Instead he inserts these references into the text like a Hamas suicide bomber sneaking into an Israeli supermarket or college cafeteria. Why he would deface his novel -- which has NOTHING to do with this subject -- with this propaganda suggests his political agenda trumps his ability to tell a story.

I am a huge fan of Maine's and was naturally quite excited to see he had a new book out. As with his biblical fiction, he has taken a well-known story and made it his own (this one just happens to not be from the bible.)

Maine's writing is top notch, and his word-play is one of the things I most enjoy when reading his books. His humor is my favorite aspect of his writing, and this book contains some gems.

As with his other books, Maine is not shy about sharing his opinions, sometimes overtly, sometimes subtly. In the scope of this "Monster Movie" tale there is just enough commentary to keep you thinking. I'd be hard pressed to find a topic that wasn't at least briefly touched on (money, power, greed, sex, the media, etc. etc.)

I probably wouldn't recommend this as a first exposure to Maine, unless you are a fan of the monster movie genre. The Preservationist is a great introduction to Maine's work, but once a fan I think you'd agree that he could write the copy on a cereal box and make it unique and interesting.

I heard great things about David Maine going into this novel, but after suffering through it, I am thankful that he kept it under 300 pages. It comes across as "I'm so smart that I'm retelling a retold story, but with a twist--there is no twist! Get it? The twist is that there is no new take on the remake!" Honesty and storytelling are not this writer's strong points. In today's market, I can see where a writer would try to hone in on an audience that can be easily duped, even if it is a small market. Hey, a few "cool" sales is better than putting yourself out there and having to face the fact there is nothing original or interesting being written down here. King Kong again...yawn again.

I picked it up because I liked the cover and I thought it might be a tongue-in-cheek ode to B-movies. Which it is, sort of. It's a mix of history, pop culture (of the 1950s), B-movie references, radiation testing, and King Kong. I found it to be unusual and interesting and I enjoyed it.

I count myself a David Maine fan. I loved "The Preservationist" and "The Book of Samson," and I thought "Fallen" was orchestrated brilliantly. I appreciate Maine's ability to be irreverent but never sacriligious with biblical stories, infusing them with the raw reality of everyday humanity. Imagine then my interest in "Monster, 1959," marketed as a "nuanced, detailed, and exquisitely written" tale.

On those criteria, the book holds up well. Indeed, "Monster, 1959" is full of details about the 1950s, about cultural and political turmoil, and about the creature that serves as the centerpiece. This forty-foot tall monster, named K., is wrought with great skill and nuance; of this, there is no doubt. I found myself drawn into the creature's story as he is pulled from a South Pacific island and taken to America. Inevitably, he will be exploited for money. The comparisons to "King Kong" are many. Perhaps too many. I kept waiting for the story to veer from that well-known plot, only to find it rehashing it with a bit more violence and sexual perversity, ala Chuck Palahnuik.

From Chuckie P., this would be a tame but expected story, although it fails to ever deliver on its deep social homilies. (If anything Palahnuik has become "preachy" with his nihilistic vision.) Maine seems to try his hand at a similar style, but succeeds only a few times at transcending the "King Kong" story and making it anything fresh, vital, or important.

I love Maine's writing, his creativity, and I'll give his next book a chance. It was fun to see him try something different, but the only character I could truly root for was K., and K's destiny seemed evident from the first four or five wonderfully rendered chapters. The rest was a bumpy ride.

Sublime. Magnificent. The story focuses on a seemingly intellectually primitive creature and its transition from life on a remote island, to captivity in the city. With Monster, 1959, David Maine has catapulted himself to storytelling greatness.

Hah, it is equally as erudite and intelligent as any of his previous books. But this time in utilising the readers own (assumed) knowledge of the King Kong school of cinema with which to paint his canvas he misses out one of the most interesting things that he generously offered us within all of his previous works, namely the use of his own unique and personal knowledge (and understanding) of middle the eastern cultures, cuisines, habits ECT. So whilst reading Monster I found myself feeling nostalgic for all of that crumbly goat's cheese and the blazing fields of yellow mustard flowers, and for those clammy whitewashed interior walls, and those fat ripe figs and the sticky honey combs and the tangled greying beards and the acrid bad breath and spittle. The other quibble of course is his childishly unsubtle use of global politics. Even though I agree on almost every point with him it still grates a bit here because all of this ranting does nothing to really enhance this novel's basic premise. I'm sure that both he and I and anyone else for that matter could quite easily compile a list of atrocities committed by and bad intentions acted upon by bad eggs for almost any day of the year since Cane first picked up that rock and took out his Brother Abel, but so what! Doug made me smile and laugh out loud and I'm glad that the bad guy got away with the dough but...There is something of the spirit of Richard Brautigan pounding around within the walls of this book and also inside his recent blog writing, and I have nothing against this being a card carrying Uber fan of Mr B myself; but still I think that all in all I preferred his previous works and I do hope that whatever his next choice of a subject that he will give us much more of that crumbly goats cheese and of that poor dithering Doug's discomfort and less of his angst ridden soap box ranting.