Eros and
Thanatos 2002
Lofting
Alma Marceau
Studio Loplop, Los Angeles
Publication date: 2000
280 pp. $19.95
On the whole, Lofting stands
as an accomplished piece of erotic fiction. Exploring one woman’s development
from lonely post-breakup spinsterette to promising cybervixen to out and out
vessel/instrument of physical debauch, it treads upon familiar ground—materially
speaking. However, Marceau’s talent and intelligence often serve to elevate
the narrative high above the mundane material strictures of the genre. At
certain points, her prose seems to throb with a poetic intensity so rarely found
in these spare and unimaginative days. The book would be a worthy read for this
quality alone. Marceau is obviously hard at work on a balanced, active-language
narrative style—a style we applaud and try to encourage at any and every turn.
Unfortunately, while Marceau’s poeticism may be a resounding literary Alpha,
she occasionally neglects to include a requisite Omicron, Psi, or Chi while
pecking pell-mell towards her orgasmic Omega. The characters, though clearly
drawn and interesting, suffer from a troubling similitude of voice.
Distinguishing one character from the next in dialogue would be nearly
impossible were one to dispense with names and/or identifying genitalia. It
should be said that the narrative loses only a bit of its luster from this
inattention to individual voice, mainly because the characters’ voice/voices
are quite intelligent and given to lively banter. In fact, the intellectual
interplay of the characters is both the novel’s selling point and its biggest
weakness. Often, especially in the transcribed cyber-chat sessions (the
introductory and weakest section of the novel), the humor steps beyond a
measured use of wit into the realm of the resolutely smug and self-aggrandizing.
The barrage of one-liners, horrific puns, and pseudo-second-language terms of
endearment could and should have been cut by three-quarters at least. Scads of
intellectually brilliant interchanges may fly in some Internet chat rooms, but
in fiction they only serve to obfuscate any sense of character continuity,
inevitably making the reader detect the author’s voice in the character’s
mouth. It’s not that Marceau’s bons mots aren’t funny or even
character-appropriate; it’s just that the sheer number of yuk-yuks would be
more appropriate for a comedian doing a two-hour set at a polymath convention in
the Catskills. For
example:
“Another reason I hate Jung.
Except neo-Jung ... and nothing after Harvest.”
“Yeah, Andres. You, me, Ma Barker,
and the colored balloons. Anyway, I can tell you’re dying to explain....”
You can practically
hear the rim shots, fast and furious. The incessant comedy is at odds with the
dramatic development of the narrative and should have been largely jettisoned
prior to publication. Drama and comedy can work together when balanced properly,
but that delicate balance has not been struck here.
Despite these minor
issues, we can honestly recommend Lofting. The dramatic passages are
well-written and involved, and the comic passes are funny; they just don’t
compliment each other well. In the end, our biggest disappointment is not
with the book itself but with the powers who kept it from becoming the book it
could have been. But not to worry: Given her obvious intelligence and
amazing command of style, Marceau is clearly a talent to be reckoned with. We
like where she’s aiming and look forward to her next novel with great
anticipation.
–
CAW –
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