I nabbed this with glee from the bookshop some time ago, and it gradually filtered up through my giant To Read interdimensional-bookshelf-portal. I knew of (though have not yet located and read) Black Juice, her most famous work of short stories (though I didn't know she's actually produced a fair number of books, most of which are largely unheard of by even the literati, it seems) but she's held a special place in my author-repository ever since a judge somewhere compared my writing encouragingly with hers nearly a decade ago. Ego is a powerful thing. She became something of an unknown-role-model (interestingly, she also resorts to technical writing 'when the money runs low'), without my ever taking the time to go and research or, you know, actually read her work.

 But - Tender Morsels, her much acclaimed novel released mid-to-late last year, did not disappoint. Except for the parts where it did, but the rest of it was so strong that I didn't mind - ney, I even expected and was happy to receive - disappointment.

This is not a story about plot, where Things Happen For A Reason. This is literature as it should be - leaves you satisfied, but still slightly yearning.

This book mimics life far more than usual - and what is truly impressive is that it does it successfully. Typically, a book that tried this would fall flat on its arse, bringing nothing but tears of boredom to its reader. Life has no structure, no meaning, no plot or pacing or theme. But Lanagan's sumptuous language, the evocative passages that carry you through the story, lift life into sunlight and beyond. It's not satisfying and neat, because life isn't. The ending feels any-old-where, because where do you stop telling the story of a family? Things happen with almost-complete disregard for pacing, tension, arcs, acts or development. There's no real tension - there are no real stakes, not for more than a few moments at a time - and a lot of the book is devoted to the tiniest of moments. Despite the horrific things that happen in it, it's a gentle book. But it works.

This book makes 'typical' storytelling look like candy: cheap, easily consumed and rather beneath our age group.

It's certainly not for everyone - take note of the fact that the story is not a satisfying story. In fact, you'll be hard pressed to tell someone what the story was after you've read it. But story isn't the point to this one - this is perhaps a unicorn: near-plotless character development. Emotional journeys. And above all, exquisite prose.

If a gripping adventure or idea, or big, dramatic emotions are what you crave in fiction, steer clear of Tender Morsels. This is about the small and subtle parts of ourselves. This is miniscule change and emotion writ large. If a book of lavish prose that meanders through a story of the subtlest of feelings and changes sounds like your cup of methylbromide, grab this the next chance you get.

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