It's *all* good? I beg to differ... in Things That Aren't Mine But That I Have Things To Say About

I am rather reluctant to criticize literature. I have a lot to learn, myself, and any time I point a finger there are three fingers pointing back at me. (And a thumb pointing to the person on my right, but that's not their fault.) But sometimes, I can't help myself. Sometimes, I encounter something so incredibly... out there, that my initial reaction is to assume it's meant as a joke. But after a while it dawns on me that the person was serious, and all I can do is stare in awe at the... well, badness of it.

This is one of those sometimes.

And while I can't bring myself to publicly ridicule this work of fiction (on Twitter and the like), I don't really consider this location public, as such. You are, of course, free to do with this information as you will. Ultimately, the author has put their work out there freely, and like all of us is therefore subject to scrutiny, opinions, and the like.

Okay, have I covered my butt sufficiently? No? Oh well, I'm moving on anyway.

It's called "The Life and Loves of Aaron James," and it is, quite simply, the most bizarre thing I've ever read.

[Note: I've not read all of it. I've only read a few pages. But that was... plenty.]

See for yourself:

https://www.smashwords.com/extreader/read/406577/3/the-life-and-loves-of-aaron-james

If you are reluctant to click there, you are wise. But if you continue reading this entry, then you've only yourself to blame, as I'm about to share one of the snippets of this book with you.

I should warn you that there are "depictions" of an adult nature, but it is so thoroughly embedded in weirdness, that it's kinda hard to tell. You'll see what I mean.

Here is the first sentence: Rails stretched through the strong night like two running medallions; Aaron and Streicher were strapped to their silent crossing.

I'm pretty sure this is about a railroad crossing, judging from subsequent sentences, but where did he get "running medaillions" from? As far as I know, medallions are round, and don't generally stretch, through the night or otherwise.

And this was one of the more lucid parts. It gets weirder, as illustrated shortly thereafter in the introductory description of the character Lailey: The imminent structures of her body were informing Streicher of her inventory and her behavior was prompting him to react, she maintained a silence which punctured benevolence.

(Man, I hate it when my benevolence gets punctured; especially in the sidewall.)

I would say that the author would fail a Turing Test at this point. And this next slightly racier-sounding sentence does nothing to dissuade me of that: Aaron refilled on her face in the momentum he bequeathed to her through the refreshing utility of a lackadaisical sensuality, and she resisted him, putting herself into a quandary as an evasive disruption orphaned her.

"I hereby bequeath to you this momentum, right after I refill on your face." As for the evasive disruption that orphaned her, what does that mean? Somewhere nearby did her parents suddenly fall into quicksand? I'm assuming they didn't mean it literally orphaned her, but I'm not sure what it would mean figuratively, either.

I strongly suspect that English is not this writer's first/native language. Which, you know, is fine. In fact, I Googled the name, and most of the related results appear to be Dutch in origin. So I would wager that the author speaks Dutch, knows some English, and the rest he just relied on a Dutch-to-English dictionary, and all the miscommunication and mistranslated figures of speech that goes with it. What's more, I suspect that he went with synonyms that "sounded cool" to him, without really knowing if it worked in the context. Having said that, he seems to have a pretty good batting average for picking the precisely wrong word each time. Furthermore, just because you aren't well-versed in English, that doesn't give you a free pass to write an English novel and then expect people to pay for it. (This one is a mere $4.99.)

I am a bit shaky at Spanish, but I could roughly converse with someone in the tongue if I had to. I would never presume to write a Spanish novel, however. And even if I did, I wouldn't try to directly translate English figures of speech. But even setting aside the vocabulary weirdness, the underlying story is... lacking. Admittedly, I've only read the first couple dozen pages so far, and some of those I ended up skimming because it was just too dizzying to navigate the turns of phrase. But so far it just seems likes people wandering around, mumbling gibberish and making out with each other.

Even the book's synopsis leaves me scratching my head, though I think I get the gist:

"Aaron James strives to love in happiness, elevating a woman’s fruitful thing to the shivery which engages them, ending powerfully in those clean depths with her full quiver. It’s been a while since the reproductive purpose of sex has been superseded by its social importance. Perhaps if we attune ourselves to this important fundamental we may regain the balance necessary to build a garden."

I mean, the last two sentences sound more like a confusing opinion rather than a summary of events. And the first sentence sounds like a spam advertisement.

Anyway, at least the dialogue makes more sense, but... it still makes Tommy Wiseau's "The Room" look like Tolkien:

“Aaron! Do you remember what you said last class,” and his jarred reverie was incapable of memory.
“Uh! No I can’t,” the effortless reaction confused him.
“Oh, that’s too bad,” Sandusky was beleaguered, “well I guess its time for a break anyway.” He walked to the coffee stand in the corner of the room
“You’re good,” a tranquil, increased soul whispered humor from Jami.
“I couldn’t think of a thing.”
“Yeah! Let’s go outside,” they crossed the slate gray courtyard and looked over the snow-flecked wastes. “Don’t you think it’s beautiful?”
“I think its nuts sometimes,” the spring air was contagious and he shivered through his sweater where the sun’s warmth lay only on its surface.
“That’s stupid.”

It's like a trainwreck, except I can at least understand vaguely how and why trainwrecks happen. Whereas this... if I ever start talking like this book, someone please have me consult a physician. (Unless I'm deliberately writing badly. Which I've done before, though usually while making it clear that it's intentional. Clearly I've met my match.)