Customer Reviews

Skunk: A Love Story

5 star:		(7)
4 star:		(2)
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Obsessions are either understood by those around us or they are not. Addictions are the same, but to love anything too much is more danger than it is worth. Not for Damien, the main man in this book, Skunk: A Love Story. Damien is unhealthily obsessed with the smell of skunks, their "musk" and anything skunk related, this novel is about how his life goes and flows because of it. A tale of life with an addiction that is not understood by anyone, and ridiculed by everyone. Witty, fun, silly and mostly just insane this is a book unlike anything I have enjoyed.

My relationship with Skunk was a stop and go type of time. I loved it, then it seemed to move too slowly, then I loved it, then I didn't then.., well you get the idea, yeah? Much of the time it felt like there was a little something missing, and I cannot put a finger on it. The voice of the narrator reminded me (for all you TV folk) of that of Dwight Schrute off of the splendid show The Office. He is similar in the way he speaks, in his weirdness and just too much to mention. I enjoyed the voice, but sometimes I felt like I needed to be told the same story from the perspective of a more balanced individual.

No matter what, this was one of the most entertaining books I have read so far this year. It held tons of laughs, tons of weirdness and the feeling of too many salami sandwiches much too late at night.

Grab this book while it is still available. It is a quirky love story that will leave you in tears. Daiman negotiates life's troubles with a steadfast determination to overcome obstacles that keep popping up. Courter writes with breathtaking audacity and clarity.

This book is a most delightful change from the ordinary and a compelling read. The author is gifted in both imagination and description. His characters draw the reader into their life situations out of curiosity and fascination. It shines a new light on the dark side of addiction and persecution bringing about laughter as well as tears.
Looking forward to the sequel!

I had planned to go to bed at a reasonable hour and thought I would finish another chapter of Skunk. Three hours later at two in the morning I turned the last page. Mr. Courter has created some unforgettable characters who draw you into their strange reality. If you tend to read the same genre all the time, Skunk, A Love Story, will be a very pleasant surprise. Loved it.
chill1019

"Only three years ago did I finally decide to get a skunk of my own." Thus begins an extraordinary tale by a writer with an imagination as big as the outdoors where his hero, the nerdy but lovable Damien Youngquist, flees to escape the confines of city life. Courter paints his characters with a bold brush, characters that are both outrageous and believable. There's Damien, who prefers his pasta flavored with a dash or two of skunk musk; his off-again on-again girlfriend Pearl who replaces the vermouth in her martinis with a splash of cod liver oil, and Robby Krauthammer, a hippie wannabe whose body "gave one the impression of a handful of pipe cleaners loosely twisted together and animated by an electric current." The plot, as bizarre as the characters, twists and turns in unexpected ways but the author leads his reader skillfully through the roller-coaster of events. Courter's wry wit shines throughout the book and his descriptions can leave the reader reeling. When Damien goes through de-tox--addicted to skunk musk of course--the reader goes with him and is as wrung out by the experience as the hero himself. And what better proof of the writer's skill than that the reader--this one in any event--tears up over the death of a skunk.

Loved this book. Funny, witty, different than the typical romantic fiction. Highly recommend it.

Where else will you find the anal-retentive yoked to the sensualist? The human fascination for filth hand-in-hand with affirmations of what's best in our natures? But what else is love, if not a force that overcomes all divisions -- and what else is a dandy, deep, odd lot of a novel like SKUNK? Justin Courter starts with one of the most isolated outsiders imaginable and then winds up rooting him wonderfully. His fecund and witty imagination delights us with the journey of Damien and Pearl, unlikely bedfellows indeed, who arrive at last at a permanent bond and a productive, earth-safe farm, where each of them have shaken off their most destructive compulsions. The effect is at once iconoclastic, breaking from the usual subjects of an American nature story, more especially a romance, and yet classic, offering the eternal pleasures of getting your hands dirty and your heart massaged.

Justin Courter's debut novel is in a class all its own. My library had it labeled romance, but it seems anything but that to me. It's one of the hipper reads I've found lately, and it takes your senses to a new level.

I was thrown a bit by the subtitle, A Love Story, and I'm sure the library labeled it romance because of that; however, this novel is more concerned with the informal education, social development, and maturing of its protagonist. It's truly one of a kind.

If you're a seasoned reader looking for something fresh, this is definitely the book for you.

(this review originally appeared in a slightly varying form at ThirdEyeMag[DOT]com)

Skunk: A Love Story feels familiar. I've read this before. I can smell, if you will, a trace of recognition. Our antisocial yet romantic protagonist falls in love, suffers betrayal, adopts a "simpler life equates greater happiness" mentality, and learns a few lessons along the way, all while dealing with substance addition. These broad events, I've tasted them before, but Skunk does offer something distinctive. The story of Damien Youngquist, an intelligent and socially crippled middle-aged office worker, explores themes common with addiction literature--substance abuse, relationship deterioration, relationship rebuilding--with one unique angle: Damien Youngquist is addicted to skunk musk.

Though this may initially seem like a forced concept the absurdity of Damien's addiction allows the reader to approach the situation with a near-zero level of personal baggage. Damien's story is one we can relate to but at the same time is one we can distance ourselves from judgmentally due simply to our ignorance of the specific vice. Unless of course you are a musk addict yourself, in which case you may have found your kindred with our protagonist.

Underlying every one of Damien's motives, and driving the story, is an Oedipal connection to the skunk musk:

"My mother drank quite a lot of beer when I was growing up. She always drank McDougal's--and imported brand that comes in a green bottle and has a slightly skunky aroma. This was the first scent to greet my nostrils in the morning and the last whiff I sniffed before falling asleep at night. I awoke each morning to the clinking of beer bottles as my mother opened and shut the door of the refrigerator to get out her first McDougal's before starting my breakfast" [pg. 24].

Though our narrator denies these connections ("While my mother was slow and languid, [Pearl] was quick and energetic. So I could dispense with the nagging notion that I was committing an Oedipal offense" [pg. 46]) the simple acknowledgement is enough to encourage the reader's close examination of Damien's every decision. His attraction to a specific type of woman, for example ("...gray hair, linked-chain horn rims, and floral print sundress..." [pg. 221]) oozes obsession with the motherly character. Pearl, the constant referent for all of Damien's Oedipal urges, has her own unique addiction, that being to fish--the smell, the taste, and at times, the lifestyle (in one early scene Pearl convinces Damien to swim with her in a giant aquarium in her garage). This shared love of generally off-putting smells instigates their relationship, but Damien's attraction to her motherly characteristics is the impetus to their long lasting bond. Deny it all you want Damien, but you really are just a lost little boy in need of guidance.

Damien's love of skunk musk epitomizes his role as the counterpoint to the accepted norm, a position explored consistently throughout Skunk's entire 347 pages. Where most characters are repulsed by the skunk smell and embrace the traditional goals of a culture--a nice home, a steady job, friends--Damien embraces the stench and dismisses the traditional comforts. Ultimately, after meeting Pearl's supposed fiancé (a relationship Damien never knew about) he embarks on a Thoreauean escape attempt to rural Highbridge in effort to not so much find himself but to find himself completely alone and self-sustaining because, as he says, "freedom is not to have to smell other people" [pg. 176].

The story gains momentum in the small town of Highbridge. Though Damien as a character experiences and becomes representative of many country bumpkin stereotypes during his journey into uncivilization (one Highbridge resident, Jud, Owner of the laughably named Jud's Country Store is described as sitting with "thumbs hooked in the straps of this overalls" [pg.117]) author Justin Courter is able to craft believable enough relationships with these residents which helps to drive the remaining story. Robby Krauthammer, for example, an anti-consumerism, late-breed hippy who freely expresses his dissatisfaction with the "establishment"--a term he uses liberally but doesn't quite grasp--is ultimately the keystone to the novel's courtroom climax. Robby and Damien's relationship is an interesting one of constant tension.

Unfortunately, the Damien Youngquist we know at the beginning of the novel--the stubborn, antisocial, know-it-all Damien with Oedipal issues--is the same Damien we know at the end of the novel. His attempts to be truly alone and self-sustaining are continually interrupted, and the reader is left believing that if Damien were ever to succeed in living a life of solidarity then he would be truly happy. But we never know.

Here is a Damien at his happiest. This is the Damien we want to love, but this is not the Damien we're left with:

"The night I got to the site of my future farm, I was so happy I leapt out of the car and ran to the middle of the field. The cabin, the clearing, and the surrounding woods were all mine. And best of all, there was nothing in sight that suggested the presence of human beings--nothing but the cabin, which was acceptable, since it only suggested my own presence, which though unpleasant was as close as I could hope to come to nothing. Nothing is a form of completion, I believe. And infinity can be found in a black hole" [pg. 114].

This lack of character change, however, doesn't belie the fact that Skunk: A Love Story is a worthy read. While I would not call Skunk a high-concept novel it is the concept that pulls us through. A strange addiction guarantees a strange man with a strange story.