Customer Reviews

Story House

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1 star:		(0)

 

 

Now that I've gotten that out of my system, let me say two things up front:

1) This *should* have been a 4-star review

2) I think Mr. Taylor is a helluva writer, with some tremendous novels in him...but this most certainly isn't one of them.

'Story House' was probably more of a labour for me to read than it was to write. (There's a ton of 'stuff' in there, all of requiring research and knowledge and scope.) Seriously; I couldn't wait to finish it, it was an absolute chore.

Now, I love intelligent writers. I love writers who have capability and energy and verve and a love of language and audacity and...and...

Mr. Taylor has all of these. But in this instance anyway, the one thing he's lacking is the storyteller's gift.

I didn't care about the story he was telling.

I didn't care about the characters within the story he was telling.

I certainly didn't care about the subject -architecture- and moreover, Mr. Taylor didn't seduce me into caring about it...or anything else in the novel.

I was *confounded* by 'Story House'. I was infuriated. I kept wishing the remaining pages would shrink to a scant few so I could be done with it.

There are portions that are illuminating. Lyrical. Playful. But they don't make for a good story, and they certainly don't make for a good read.

If I was being blunt (understand that I just finished the novel and I'm not a happy camper, not even remotely) I'd say it was an effing mess, and desperately needed editorial guidance. (As do most books I'm reading these days; funny, that...)

Next up is his début effort; I sure hope that its reading isn't as painful an effort for me to exert.

As I gently placed this novel down at my bedside yesterday and sprinkled a pinch of twinkledust into my baby blues, the penultimate thought I'd had in before nodding off to Neverneverland was that rarely has a novel been as meticulously-researched as Double-T's STORY HOUSE. (I'm happy to report that I had pleasant dreams all night long, and I woke up refreshed and ready to tackle a new piece of fiction, preferrably one belonging to to this author). Oh yeah, the last thought I'd had before hitting the hay was whether I'd snugly closed my bottle of twinkledust. It's expensive, even off of eBay, and even if I pay in Canadian funds.

Alright.

Time for a little digression towards the specifics of this tome, folks. You've just GOT to love (said with heapful James Brown-ism) how this writer's done his homework.

Gadzooks! I'm totally shocked. I mean, there's not a single t nor i--uncrossed or undotted, respectively--in this here work to be found.

Not only was I entertained--yarn-like--throughout the 400 or so pages of this bookaroonie, I was also massively educated. If that doesn't garner an "edutainment" award from which Canadian Council funds that, then the category's gotta be redefined, okay?

In any event, Taylor, like a Talmudist, dips into the storybook trail mix of the entire architectural field in this one, folks. Not only has he evoked a sense of drama between his four or so protags (Graham, Elliott, Esther, Avi, etc.), my babies, but he's also managed to teach you a thing or four about how to build a home. Properly. Sturdily. Differently.

And punch this: several other little gemstones make an appearance inside these pages as well. Displaying a jack-of-all-trades flourish as Mr. Everyscribe, Tim Taylor unsheaths the mother of all skills in his STORY HOUSE, giving us a Pepsi-challenge-like taste test re: his bona fides on the film biz, Hollywood-style, slapdashing some TV savvy in there for good measure, even peppering us with a few on-set antics courtesy of the man called (Avi) Zweigler, ostensibly a Tamil gentleman (probably from Jaffna, or maybe he's Nigerian?), and very definitely against Tinsel Town type (tongue firmly dans la bouche here, kids).

In any event, mix this with a little gun-running shtick care of younger Gordon brother Elliott, some contraband tschotchkes and assorted swag, not to mention the Kung-Fu Hustle, and you've got the makings of a Giller Prize winner here, kids.

Gosh, my hands are getting all clammy just imagining shaking Governor-General Michaelle Jean's palm (gosh, Timmy, isn't she just a fox? Yum!).

What you'll love about STORY HOUSE is that it's not in any way a facile read. Rarely *are* the Canadian novels I enjoy reading. Mr. Taylor combines his characteristic authorly smarts and several whopping metric *tonnes* of style in this tasteful depiction of a Jacob-ian/Esau-ian family feud about who's got their hands deeper into daddy-o's inheritance cookie jar, and what they're willing to sacrifice of themselves, their comfort zones, and their reputations to attain it.

You're going to majorly dig STORY HOUSE's introductory segments, with its more pugilistic undertones, as deft as a left-right-left setup (or right-left-right if you're a southpaw like 3 out of 10 of our Czech women) for that "battle royale" sequence which takes place somewhere along the lines of this plot--but--PSYCHE!--if you think I'm telling you about it, you might as well wait for the next solar eclipse.

The magnificent thing about a writerly trifecta, as in the case of Mr. Taylor's SILENT CRUISE, STANLEY PARK, and now his STORY HOUSE, is that it goes to show you that our man's totally here to *stay.*

Not once, mesdames et messieurs, not twice, but three-times-a-w'ady, Timothy L. Taylor has shown that he can outpace the fillies, getting out there to rub two narrative sticks in constructing a smokin' hot bonfire. He puts firmly to rest that oft-bandied about saw about how the novel is in its death throes.

Nuh-(four-letter word)-uh.

When I read something this cute-as-a-button clever, I bow down in hosannahs of joy. Why, you query?

Well (and here's my very frank admission folks) it's because one day I hope to write as well as this. One day I just hope to be able to move a reader along as much of an emotional path from first page to the last as Tim did me.

I got to that final paragraph, read what needed to be read, and it stuck with me like crazy glue, long after I'd shut the hardcover.

Treat yourself to something more pensive after a kvetchy holiday season, folks. Something to take your mind off that debt servicing, that credit card fraud, plus the fact you're going to have to break into your kids' trust fund just to finance all those hi-tech whiz-bang purchases you thought looked like a wicked score way back in the middle of November--ages ago, in 21st-century speak.

STORY HOUSE is the House That Taylor Built. It's an abode you're going to want to dwell in, too. I already do.

Hand on the heart,

--ADM in Prague