Customer Reviews

The Sea Came in at Midnight

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4 star:		(4)
3 star:		(1)
2 star:		(1)
1 star:		(0)

 

 

In 1991 I read Erickson's *Tours of the Black Clock*, and came away touched to the core by his reckoning with evil, loss, and the secret history of the Twentieth Century; I felt in finishing the book as if I had been given an incredible gift. He was definitely going to be one to watch.

Well, I devoured *Amnesiascope* and *Arc D'X* and *Rubicon Beach*, but despite the appearance of the same tropes (like J.G. Ballard, Erickson obsessively redeploys the same imagery, in his case fractured time, deserted Chinatowns, flooded cities) they didn't bring me off quite the way *Tours* did.

Now *Sea* does, again. It's a haunting and beautiful meditation on time, loss, evil, and redemption - call it a scruffier alternate take on DeLillo's *Underworld*, for post-boomers. It's uneven in spots, but it did the work that all great writing is supposed to do: it triggered the simultaneous grief, acceptance, and joy in that acceptance that means you've arrived, at long last, at your own life. You should buy this book.

Oh, and: thanks, Steve.

Steve Erickson is one of the most challenging and visionary of all contemporary American writers and the fact that many of his books are going out of print is certainly cause for alarm. While some critics have compared Erickson to Pynchon and DeLillo, and there may be some similarities, "The Sea Came in at Midnight" shows Erickson moving past such comparisons and developing a style and technique that is very much his own. "The Sea Came in at Midnight" is certainly his finest novel to date but it is, unfortunately, plagued by some of the same inconsistencies of his previous work.

The thematic and stylistic elements of which this novel is composed are the stuff of undeniable brilliance. The innovative structure of the novel is also an asset through most of the novel but by the time we near the end it has become one of the most problematic elements. In this novel Erickson tells several stories at once, weaving each into the others with intricacy and skill. Among the many plots that emerge are a teenage girl's attempt to dream, a madman's attempt to document the world's slide into apocalypse and another teenage girl's brush with death on film. Each plot thread makes for engrossing reading and as I read I was constantly surprised by how Erickson managed to tie one plot thread to the others.

The problem is that by the time the end of the novel approaches, which is far too fast, none of the plot lines actually terminate, they just trail out into space. It is possible that Erickson tried to do too much in too small a space - just over 250 pages. This novel might have been better if it had been a hundred or so pages longer and Erickson had been able to bring everything together and create some sort of closure. As it is thing never come full circle, and while perhaps it was not Erickson's intention to close the circle for a while he makes it look like he is definitely trying.

Even so "The Sea Came in at Midnight" is a fantastic and absorbing novel, one which is well worth reading more than once. I am eagerly anticipating Erickson's next work and I can only hope that his genius will not continue to go unnoticed.

The three nights I spent reading Erickson's "The Sea Came at Midnight" were both riveting and disturbing. Rarely do I dream, but Erickson's fantasy gave my nights urgent and almost panicked visions. In retrospect I fancy my mind unable to process the wild implications and subconscious import driven to point by only the experiences of his few characters. "The Sea Came at Midnight" is not only beautifully written and well-composed, but it is also ominous... Like all significant works of writing it leaves you hungrier than sated, straining to bring into focus the looming world you know lays waiting behind the words -- A world that is more your own than Erickson's, because he has only given you a fleeting, piercing glimpse at all you refuse to perceive about humanity.

`The Sea Came in at Midnight' is so good it's scary. I'm worried that it will be a long time before I read another novel that is so accomplished and successful in its intent. Maybe I shouldn't worry...maybe I only have to wait until I read another of Erickson's novels before I encounter such mastery again.

For me, the most enjoyable aspect of this novel was the elliptical paths the characters took. The way they crossed and re-crossed paths, never knowing the significance of the other in the way their lives have been shaped. Erickson manages this without forcing the relationships or situations in an artificial way.

The story itself, though, is artificial and contrived - but I mean that in a positive way! Erickson's settings, the novels events and the characters motivations are grandiose and on an epic scale. He wants you to be confronted by his themes - the decay of society, the power of redemption and self-belief - so they are enlarged and made more bold by their scale. `The Sea Came in at Midnight' is a novel that trades in challenging the reader and the reader's perceptions. You will never forget the desperation of some characters and the despair of others. Never forget the hyper-realistic imagery - Tokyo memory hotels, the mass suicide, the shattered aquarium. And finally, never forget that you have been privileged to read a novel of truly stunning accomplishment.

This is a remarkable achievement in plot and character, although it is certain to leave some readers dissatisfied, confused, or possibly uncomfortable. An assortment of men and women whose moods range from desperate to indifferent are set toward goals they barely comprehend: lost loves, personal identity, procreation, past mistakes they hope to correct, penance for their own sins and those they did not dissuade from evil. The milieu is the usual Erickson almost-real world, a damp, dark place where beings are never fully in control of their energies, needs, and cravings. This is a very erotic book, but one that also crosses into the realm of sexual violence. There are no stereotypes. Every one of the many characters lives and breaths in a macrocosm in which paths continually cross at critical moments. Some readers will not like the complexity. Some would rather not read about sexual exploitation. Some will fail to recognize the remarkable and fully credible transition from despair to hope that this story tells.

A sometimes beautiful, sometimes disturbing "memior of the future", this novel contains plot twists that in themselves are nothing short of amazing. The books many protagonists live as if in a surreal dreamworld of cultural movements, apocolyptic fear, horrific urban legends and even worse histories of the last century. The writing is very lyrical, but the narrative also has a frenetic science-fiction like pace that keeps you turning the pages with each cosmic coincidence. Very much like Delillo in delivery and Pynchonian in plot.

Steve Erickson is one of the most exciting and inventive writers alive today, and it's a shame he's not more widely known. This is a really dazzling book, full of three times as many ideas, and twice as much gorgeous writing as most other books around. One of it's most intriguing ideas is the bordello full of people representing various dates in history, which opens up the theme of people being able to "sleep" with various significant dates of their lives (i.e., constructing a life out of the days that are most important to them). The whole concept of the "memory hotel" is fascinating, too, and I love the way the characters' stories dovetail each other, though there are a few too many characters and stories in the end. But no one else today seems to take as many risks as Erickson, or to be as audaciously fascinating .

Erickson occasionally misses the mark in his latest novel, but it's only because he attempts moves most authors wouldn't even begin to imagine. The millennial theme isn't as prevalent as promotion would lead one to think; this goes far beyond it, and Erickson's astounding skill makes up for his occasional shortcomings in characterization.

Erickson is, quite simply, the finest American writer of prose in these last days of the 20th Century. His words are radio broadcasts from a world without hope in a time beyond meaning. This latest novel maps the Apocalypse through the chaotic story of a dreamless young woman and Erickson's own life; plotting the intersections of pop culture, history, and love.

This is the first book I have read by Erickson. I had heard good things, and this book does not dissapoint. It has been haunting me since I first read it two months ago. What is perhaps most fascinating about the books is its ability to engage both heart and mind, often times bringing them together as only good art can do. What I saw as central to this is book is the place of the individual within an oceanically overbearing world where it is scary to be on your own. Not unlike our own! But also within this framework, Erickson manages to insert questions of reason and history, and whether we can have a history that is collective, but also personal. The scope is sweeping and the imagery is often beautiful and terribly beautiful. The characters, though nothing as inspiring as most anything your Shakespeares or your Dickens have produced, are perhaps most appropriate to the overwhelmingly secular and mechanical and technological world in which they, and we, live in. I strongly recommend this book!