Havah: The Story of Eve - Further Explorations

If you enjoyed Anita Diamant's The Red Tent, Tosca Lee's Havah: The Story of Eve will leave you breathless. Havah exceeds the excellent The Red Tent in nearly every category: delving into more intimate historical detail, stretching the scope of speculation with sound research, and breathing life into characters that could so easily fall flat. Importantly, Havah avoids the stereotyping of our ancestors that plagued some parts of The Red Tent.

If you think you know the plot of Havah, think again. It truly is an experience you won't soon forget.

Here are just a handful of the questions that I found being addressed through the course of the compelling narrative. Not only did I experience the alien lives of our ancestors and origins in Havah, but I also was subtly challenged to contemplate all manner of mysteries both great and small,* including:

The source of iron content in human blood.
The roots of Satan's "Lord of the Flies" monniker.
Death as an alternative control.
The miracle of self-awareness.
Insects as sin-amplifiers.
The concept of naive superintelligence.
The meaning of language.
The origin of dragon mythology.
The birth of idolatry.
The importance of (what we now call) incest.
The meaning of guilt.

And there is much more than that. There is blood in this book. Bad blood. Good blood. God's blood.

When Demon: A Memoir debuted in 2007, it became readily evident that a new, inventive and meaningful storyteller (in the deepest sense of that word) had burst upon the scene.

Demon: A Memoir and Havah: The Story of Eve are companion books, but this is unlikely to be apparent at first blush. Though a great span of time (from origin to present) separates their settings and all but two characters (both of whom are critical, but also almost never overtly "on stage") are entirely different, both stories make it clear that a new world (and worldview) of Providence and the fantastic has been birthed by a most capable midwife in Tosca Lee.

*One of my favorite qualities of Havah is that there is a subtle shift from romance languages (in the Garden) to grittier Anglo-Saxon vocabulary in exile. Lee is nothing if not a writer who builds in layers.

Havah Inspires a Free and Easy Contest

Tosca Lee, author of Havah (which I am currently reading*), is giving away a few interesting Genesis-related prizes. Just go to Toscology to enter the drawing. Yeah, it's that simple.

By the way Havah: The Story of Eve, officially released today. Look for it a B&N or wherever you shop, today!

*I'll have a review up when I finish, but I do have to say that any book that switches from French, Latin and Greek-origin language to Anglo-Saxon sixty pages in just to make a point is well ahead of the game.

Demon Takes Silver: Thanks God it Isn't a Werewolf

ForeWord Magazine has announced its Book of the Year Award winners.

My favorite book of 2007, Demon: A Memoir has taken the silver medal in its category.

Incidentally, the full list of winners, medalists, and finalists provides a pirate's chest of the treasure from independent presses.

Congratulations, Tosca Lee, and all the authors recognized by ForeWard Magazine.

I think this means I have taste. Chili dogs and rotgut are on the house...er, cave!

Demon to Appear at Awards Banquet

My favorite modern weird book on the planet, Demon: A Memoir, just got nominated for a major award.

Okay, not that major award. A different one. One that, should an author win it, comes with a thingy that goes on the bookcovers of re-issues, a lot more attention in bookstores and, if I'm not mistaken, a compass in the stock.

Wait, that's Christmas Story again.

But, hey, this really is a Christmas story, because sometimes the good guys win at the end, sometimes no one sees you in the bunny costume, sometimes you do get the Red Ryder bb gun and sometimes, just sometimes, the publishing industry realizes it has something really great on its hands.

Congratulations to all the Christy nominees, including Tosca Lee, but special congratulations to the nominating committee for recognizing what a literary triumph Demon really is.

Soli Deo gloria.

Via Toscology

Further Notes on Demon: A Memoir - SPOILERS

**SPOILERS** FOR THE EYES OF DEMON READERS ONLY ** SPOILERS

Please keep in mind that you aren't even supposed to be reading this. No humans allowed. I only stuck this journal on the internet so I didn't lose it under a sandwich or something. Spoilers are a rotten thing, but sometimes it becomes impossible to write about the more complex points of the novel without them. So stop reading. Not that you should have been reading even this.

The memoir is not of a demon, but of an editor at a mid-sized publishing house and his interaction with a demon. There is a point in the story where it seems unclear whether the memoir will be contracted for publication.

So, clearly, there were other hands that reversed this course. How would the memoir read from someone who knew Clay, helped to get it published, but never had any evidence that what he saw was real? I wonder if Clay's publisher promoted the book as the diary of a madman, a straight memoir or as fiction (and attributed it to Tosca Lee?)

I can't remember the term for a sequel that is a parallel to another character's experience (as opposed to subsequent to that experience) but if there's a sequel to Demon in the works, I'd love to see Religious Madness (An Inquiry into the Mysterious Events Surrounding the Publication of Demon: A Memoir). I'd love to see Demon retold from a complete skeptic's point of view, someone who has to choose blindness by the end of the retelling instead of admission.

It would make a great faux documentary, too.

In the Aspern Papers, Henry James recounts a gripping tale of a would-be biographer's attempts to wrest private letters of a famed dead poet (Jeffrey Aspern) from his estate. The book cuts into the heart of the agents of public exposure, and the lengths people will go to either maintain their privacy or capitalize on their experiences in public. As I read Demon, I found new parallels to James' classic novel, and I can't help but wonder: how much of Clay's exhaustion-driven, depression scarred, demon haunted memory made it to the page. How much of what he wrote made it to publication? Did his editors posthumously alter the story in anyway?

Who ensures the publication? The Lord? Or Lucian?

This book posseses my mind with holy fire. I aproach it with the obsession of Roy Batty in Blade Runner:

Questions. Morphology? Longevity? Incept dates?

Opening Line of a Novel - Important or Just Crucial? You Decide!

Dale James Arceneaux has a lively post on how to stage a good opening for a novel. I disagree with him slightly, in that I believe that the opening for Demon: A Memoir is actually perfect, not just okay.*

As for me, I'm a hundred pager. If I make it to page 100 and am not yet engaged in story, I'll put it down for good. I also realize that I am not the droid that Penguin is looking for.

*The line is this: "It was raining the night he found me." It works because ostensibly, we are reading a memoir. In eight words, Tosca tells us that this is a biography of a man who is sought under unfriendly conditions, that the story is about a relationship between two people who are not intimate with each other, but needful, and that our hero is hiding from something. If you can say that compellingly in less space, I'd love to see it. The paragraph that it introduced is haunting and tense.

In short, the devil had me at "Hello."

Character Creation: A Man in Third Heaven

I know a man in Christ who fourteen years ago (whether in the body or out of the body I do not know, God knows) was caught up to the third heaven. And I know that this man was caught up into paradise and heard things too sacred to be put into words, things that a person is not permitted to speak. On behalf of such an individual I will boast, but on my own behalf I will not boast, except about my weaknesses.

Paul writes this to the Corinthians, almost as an aside.

"Oh, by the way, I know this guy who went to heaven. So, how's life going? Did you see the big game?"

This is a great example of introducing the supernatural to a story. Paul isn't writing fiction, but relaying a history, of course, but the principle he employs applies to storytelling.

Heaven is separate, real, experiential and unique, and Paul nails all four qualities in a short passage. Third heaven is a state wherein the witness was "caught up" (separate), either in the body or out of it (real), heard things too sacred for words (experiential), and whose experience was worthy of boasting (unique.)

Readers of the supernatural who have no real interest in spiritual things will be drawn to the realness and the experience, but have little thirst for separateness or uniqueness. Both Stephen King and Neil Gaiman are masters of the first two qualities. Their strange gods/heroes will have dirt under their nails, and can navigate a fistfight or a brothel with all too humen acumen. They have little use for separateness, for a uniqueness that might be considered pure or holy.

On the other hand, writers like Peretti have a hammer lock on the more subtle qualities. They get separateness. The understand uniqueness. Their strange gods/heroes may lack in a physical reality, but they are endowed with a special sort of clarity - a defined, clean isolation that should be unique to mythic figures.

Then, you've got the rare few who are able to bring forth all four effects into one good character. When a writer can do this, he (or she, although, I've got to admit, all you humans look the same to me) has achieved a glorious thing.

Shelley does it with Frankenstein's monster. C.S. Lewis accomplishes it several times, as does O'Connor (Lewis' best example can be found in the Unman Weston in Perelandra, and I'll just take a stab at O'Connor's iconic Misfit). Lee does it in Demon: A Memoir with Lucian and his ilk. Rice strangely achieves this in Interview with A Vampire and then "over-realizes" Lestat in the Vampire Lestat. Stoker does it with Count Dracula in the abstract.

Somehow, all four cylinders have to hit in rhythm. St. Paul does it here with ease. I haven't done it yet.

Can the Damned Be Redeemed?

Tosca Lee points out a really fascinating complexity about the state of demonic salvation.

She quotes Augustine quoting the philosopher Plotinus* (and I quote Lee quoting them!):

"…that the very fact of man’s corporal mortality is due to the compassion of God, who would not have us kept for ever in the misery of this life. The wickedness of demons was not judged worthy of this compassion, and in the misery of their condition, with a soul subject to passions, they have not been granted the mortal body, which man had received, but an eternal body."

Plotinus is right. By association, so are St. Augustine and St. Tosca.

"Damned" isn't soft terminology. I think it is easier for those who have not faced a direct confrontation with evil to believe that it can be redeemed or reformed. It doesn't work like that. You don't purify Tianenman Square by celebrating the Olympics there: you only spoil the torch.

Keep in mind that demons, before demonhood, had been granted the one thing we really wish we had: immortal bodies. How many times have we thought that everything would be just fine if we only didn't have to deal with death in all its forms (breakdowns, breakups, breakouts, brokenness).

Well, so did the angels. But immortality turned out to be insufficient for a huge number of them.

So the demons are blessed with the one thing we covet: eternal existence. But it still isn't enough for them. They were built for community with God, but they used their immortality as a wedge against their own design!

Theoretically, physically, God could redeem a demon, but His just and righteous -- and loving -- character dictates that he not redeem a demon.

I know you humans think you are smarter than He is. You think you are more loving than He is. You, given the omniscience, omnipotence, omnipresence of the Lord, would devise a delightful means by which the whisperers of Auschwitz might find redemption, even if they don't want the redemption you offer.

Instead of casting them to outer darkness, you'd be better than our father Abraham, who would not even send a dead man to witness to five lost brothers. Instead of separating yourself from the absence of good, you people, in your infinite justice, would marry yourselves to it.

Oh, wait, you** already have.

Why do we have such compassion for the devil? Isn't a demon a sort of tarbaby for misplaced sympathy?

Sincerely,


St. Grumpy



*Plotinus' efforts, by the way, should rightly be seen as an attempt to clarify Plato. His philosophical influence stretched from neopagans of the day to Christians. It is also worth noting that his philosophy is as overtly hostile to gnosticism at the intellectual level as Christianity is at the spiritual.

**(we)

Review-A-Palooza: Demon: A Memoir Discussions Start to Hit Stride

Nicole Petrino-Salter is suffering from another bout of the God virus, as propagated by Demon: A Memoir.

Fancy that.

This is one of the first reviews that I've come along that really starts to dig into the book's greater implications.* I have a feeling that the conversation started by Tosca Lee won't end until Judgment Day. If then.

This is going to be fun.**

*I mean, I've seen a few who have spoken of the book as "witnessing tool" to non-believers, but that falls short of the mark if that is the end of the discussion. The book is, first and foremost, a great story in an otherworldly format. It is a real story that makes demands on the reader--not to take a prescription or a "message" from it-- but demands that actually cause the reader to be somebody better, deeper, more loving, more engaged.***

**I mean, you know, I'm talking about a restrictive, semi-joyless fun, just in case you were getting worried. Only Diet Chocolate Cherry Fun for you!

***I know, I know. I've been playing it close to the vest about my opinion of Demon: A Memoir, so here's my big reveal: I kind of liked it. Shh.

Jesus loves Demon (A Memoir, that is)

I've noticed a few reviews of my new favorite book on the planet: Demon: A Memoir.

The Review Hutch: Review of Demon: A Memoir

Dave enjoys Demon: A Memoir

Ginny Smith has a few thoughts as well.

Detecting a pattern, I'm sure. I hope you don't think its all just a bunch of hype. Would I lie* to you?

Okay, so maybe these do not constitute a direct endorsement from our friend and master. But, wherever two or more are gathered in his name...and I've gathered three! (four if you count all present semi-humans.)

*I mean, not counting that bit about me doing time for counterfeiting currency, or accidentally derailing transcontinental train shipments with a penny, or eating a rock or that bit about the cannibalism.

Tosca Lee Chernobyls Her Underwood

Just to finish off the invasion of words that Tosca Lee launched on her editors (previous posts here and here):

Her first run-through hit 160,000+. Considering the target was 100,000, I'm thinking that she met her mark. Then punched it in the face. Then kicked it when it was down and rolled it off a cliff.

Poor mark.

Sorry for all the violence, but I've never been one to tack toward the Isle of Appropriate Social Conduct.*

In case you didn't know.

* This also applies to my disgusting disregard for the victims of bureaucratic failure and improper oversight in the old Soviet Union from whom I carelessly appropriated for my title. Also, I lied about Lee and her Underwood. At least, I think I lied. I don't actually know how she first writes her words, but the two things I'm pretty sure she doesn't use are a clay tablet or a manual typewriter. But a clay tablet would be cool. Especially if that's how she wrote Demon: A Memoir.

Author Lee Departs Crazytown for Insanity City

Post below, updated: Tosca Lee just passed 144,000.

A significant number, considering its importance in the Book of the Revelation.

"Then I looked, and behold, on Mount Zion stood the Lamb, and with him 144,000 who had his name and his Father's name written on their foreheads."

Although not as significant as each living member of the remnant, every word is significant, even those that do not make it to final edit. Editing a full third of the draft away is going to be an amazing feat of scrutiny.

Wow. This is like watching Skywalker* in the trench, TIE fighters on his tail, the meter counting down, and an exhaust port no bigger than wamprat for a target. I don't know how it is all going to end, but I guarantee it will be spectacular.

The one thing that Red 5 can't be aware of in the thick of this, and what most of the audience will have forgotten by now, is that Han Solo may be rough, but he's no derelict, and he doesn't stand by when there is action in the game.

*What follows are a series of obscure references to a little-known art film from the late 70s.

Tosca Lee Kicks Asterisks

Ugh, in her latest post, world renowned-author Tosca Lee notes that she's hit 131,000 words in the new novel she's working on. This is a big number, especially to me, who tends to think of long-form fiction as anything that doesn't fit in one of my stupid asterisked* comments.

I've mentioned it before, but none of my major publications have ever cracked the 100-word limit. In one of them, I lost the plot twice before the 50-word mark. So, yeah, to have cranked through, oh, 1,310 times as many words and to complain about not being quite finished is a little like Edmund Hilary summiting Everest and complaining that it doesn't go up any more.

By the way, if you haven't read Lee's Demon: A Memoir yet, you probably should. But only if you don't want me uprooting you like the witless stripling that you are and picking my crooked teeth with the remains.

*My asterisk comments are brief, is what that means.

Demon: A Memoir (Reviewed by Me, Read by You)

As you know, I don't rank works of literature, however, I can name only about a score of major modern* works that really matter: Beowulf, Don Quixote, Dante's Divine Comedy, Hamlet and Henry V, Canterbury Tales if you must. In the 20th Century, I've read a few great tales - The Wasteland, the Lord of the Rings, Perelandra, The Great Divorce, The Violent Bear it Away, Ficciones, the Name of the Rose, and The Secret History.

So, there you have it. This reader's noted great works first saw print, with the exception of Tart and Eco, well before my birth. Because it has been 15 years or so since the last straggler (Donna Tart's The Secret History) made it through the arch, I had lulled myself into thinking that my personal canon of great works was closed.

I am an idiot.

One of the greatest perils of postmodern thought is postmodern ideology, which carries an inherent risk: the risk that qualities such as good and bad, important and irrelevant, will be drained of meaning. Eventually, only the "personal" matters, and, eventually, not even that. I must have fallen in line with this quiet assumption at some point, because otherwise I cannot explain the shock I experienced when Demon: A Memoir appeared in my mailbox through what I can only describe as a series of unusual circumstances.

Let me get to the point: Tosca Lee's Demon: A Memoir is great literature, and being such, will very likely be misunderstood (at best) or overlooked (at worst) for another 30 years or so.

Me and the followers of the only way worship the Word, so it has always baffled me as to why we are, generally, so incapable of writing well. Eliot, L'Engle, O'Connor and Lewis are, of course, among many examples to the contrary, but there is a lot of Christian literature that can't even get the prose right, much less the theme. Demon: A Memoir is a new exception to that general tendency.

The plot structure is that of an architect's, the characters are vivid, the writing expresses clarity, wit, realism and logophilia. The book has three extraordinary characters that I'll be able to name on my deathbed. The climax is taut and spectacular. If Tosca Lee ripped out her own heart, I think words would come pouring from the wound.

This is a brave book - one that very humbly ventures into darkness with a candle.

Let me bypass a synopsis in favor of persuasion. I'll give you three reasons to pick this book up through a scene, an artifice, and an element of pathos:

A scene: The recently divorced protagonist, Clayton, is approached by, and drawn to, a beautiful woman in a bookstore. Lee masterfully negotiates a vulnerable man's complex lusts without ever once relying on cultural myths of manhood. Clay's emotions towards her come from a good place, a desire for the comforts and companionship of a wife, and quickly distort into more complex, and less pure desires.

An artifice: I love mis en abyme, when done well. The play-within-a-play in Hamlet, the book-within-a-book in The Name of the Rose, the poet-within-a-poem of Eliot, are all flawlessly executed. I'm a sucker for them, but I also know that they can be a trap, tempting the author to pull the trick once too often (a fate that befell the great artiste of our generation, Michael Jackson, when he turned the spectacular Thriller into a movie within a dream, or vice versa, or something.) The 70s film They Might Be Giants was brilliant mis en a byme, but had to bail on the ending to avoid the myriad traps that the story-within-a-story structure. Demon: A Memoir, shamelessly goes for mis en abyme, and delivers. In spades.

Demon not only is a story-within-a-story-within-a-story, but it is also a Truth-Within-the-Lie-Within-the-Truth story. Not only that, but it makes subtle reference to the conceit with overt references to John Gardner's Grendel and even, of all things, Sesame Street's infamous "Monster at the End of This Book."

The pathos: I know demons. I've seen their handiwork (so have you). Even as a weak and vain bridge-troll, I know my charge: to wrestle against principalities and powers, spiritual wickedness in high places, and the rulers of darkness. Somehow, like the unconsolable wailing of Esau over the unfairness of the loss of his birthright to his deceptive younger brother Jacob, the demon Lucian, with craft, earnestness and emotion, quickly earns my sympathy with his account of the Cosmic Disaster, even though I know that he too abandoned his own birthright for even less than a trifle.

Lee must be crazy or brilliant to try to pull this off. Just because it works flawlessly doesn't mean she isn't crazy. Van Gogh cut his own ear off, you know.

Are you getting the impression that I liked the book yet? Go buy it, already, for God's sake. And yours, too.

Post Scriptum - I have noticed two somewhat prevalent comparisons among commentators that don't quite jive with me.

There are a few references in other places to the work as being derivative of Anne Rice's Interview with A Vampire, but this is error. Lee's novel displays an episodic structure that has greater kinship with Stoker's Dracula, and though the villain is certainly sympathetic, he is no less a villain. Why do people think Demon is like Interview? Uhm, I guess because it has an interview in it, I don't really know. Trust me, Demon has a far greater sense of creeping dread, malevolence and power than Rice's Lestat-as-Superman saga (Don't get me wrong, IwaV is a good book, but isn't similar to Demon in any important or thematic way). I guess by this logic, Les Miserables is derivative of The Music Man, because, uh, they're both plays.

Also, Screwtape Letters. C.S. Lewis' demonic parody is delightful and full of insight and encouragement. Demon: A Memoir aims at a much different target. Lucian has much more in common with one of my favorite figures in literature, Lewis's Professor Weston in Perelandra, than he does with the master's more famous work about the corporate inner workings of hell.

A better book to compare Demon: A Memoir to is Stoker's Dracula. The full story emerges through obfuscation and deceptive trails, through a variety of voices and media (where Stoker utilized telegrams and letters, Lee takes advantage of text messages, calendar reminders, e-mail, cell phones) and centers around an evil that takes most of the book to fully appear. Although Lee is a better writer than Stoker, both Demon and Dracula share the same attention to layering.

Post Post Scriptum - If none of this has encouraged you to pick up Demon: A Memoir, here's one last-ditch effort: if you liked Lois Lowry's The Giver, Rice's The Vampire Lestat, the aforementioned The Great Divorce or Perelandra, King's The Eyes of the Dragon (or, for different reasons, The Shining), Borges' The Library of Babel, Robert E. Howard's Solomon Kane stories, Jackson's The Haunting of Hill House, Bunyan's The Pilgrim's Progress, Dante's Inferno or Poe's Fall of the House of Usher, you are probably going to enjoy Tosca Lee's debut novel.

*You do recall my somewhat broad definition of "modern" don't you? Everything following 601 and the baptism of King Aethelbert. The brief thousand-year-or-so period before that is the Classical, and before that, the Ancient. Suck it up if you don't like it. Keep things simple, I say.