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beckycoxmedina33's review against another edition
5.0
Man...I can't say enough about this book. Definitely a gem. The ending felt a bit rushed, but wow. So many twists and gut wrenching turns. And the language was soooo incredibly painful and beautiful at the same time. Loved this book.
sarahallen77's review against another edition
3.0
Absolutely beautifully written, but the plot just left me feeling really bad. I’m so torn on what I think about this book.
stehannigan's review against another edition
5.0
This is a remarkable novel that touches on a lot of issues in society that were as relevant in 1984 as they are now. Heart wrenching in places but equally thought provoking at the same time.
jenvanry's review against another edition
3.0
I think it's a big complement to the story, particularly one with some mystery to it, when you finish the book and immediately want to flip back to the beginning and re-read passages. That's how I felt with The Summer That Melted Everything. Still rolling it over in my mind. Worth the read.
anicolewrites's review against another edition
1.0
DNF at page 134.
I just...can't. I've been waiting to read this book for ages, and now that I have a copy in my hands I'd do anything to return to the days of blissful ignorance, when I still thought this book could be something I'd enjoy. I considered slogging through to the end, but the tedious strings of metaphors and seemingly endless parade of parables and folksy dialect, combined with some of the most distasteful dialogue I've ever read, just turned me off completely.
I've seen other reviews compare the style to some of Stephen King's work, and it's an apt comparison in some ways--there's the folksiness, of course, and the consonant cutting on every page that rivals King's ubiquitous "ayuh"s. But more significantly, McDaniel utilizes King's characterization mainstay of "Bad White People Say the N-Word and Good People Don't, and You'll Know Who's Who By Their Reactions to the Arrival of a Magical Negro Character." It's lazy at best, painfully offensive at worst, and as a black reader I get sooo tired of seeing *that* word thrown around by white authors hamfistedly trying to prove a point. Also, I get that Elohim (side note: that name choice, dude. Really? I'm sure there's probably some sort of plot-relevant significance there, and I'd find out what it is if I could force myself to read more of this, but what a name for such an awful man) is supposed to be the antagonist, but I got up to this bit and wanted to vomit:
Please, stop. I get the intent, but...ugh. I can't stomach this.
From what I've heard it gets worse from there, so I suppose I picked a good(?) enough place to quit.
I just...can't. I've been waiting to read this book for ages, and now that I have a copy in my hands I'd do anything to return to the days of blissful ignorance, when I still thought this book could be something I'd enjoy. I considered slogging through to the end, but the tedious strings of metaphors and seemingly endless parade of parables and folksy dialect, combined with some of the most distasteful dialogue I've ever read, just turned me off completely.
I've seen other reviews compare the style to some of Stephen King's work, and it's an apt comparison in some ways--there's the folksiness, of course, and the consonant cutting on every page that rivals King's ubiquitous "ayuh"s. But more significantly, McDaniel utilizes King's characterization mainstay of "Bad White People Say the N-Word and Good People Don't, and You'll Know Who's Who By Their Reactions to the Arrival of a Magical Negro Character." It's lazy at best, painfully offensive at worst, and as a black reader I get sooo tired of seeing *that* word thrown around by white authors hamfistedly trying to prove a point. Also, I get that Elohim (side note: that name choice, dude. Really? I'm sure there's probably some sort of plot-relevant significance there, and I'd find out what it is if I could force myself to read more of this, but what a name for such an awful man) is supposed to be the antagonist, but I got up to this bit and wanted to vomit:
"My momma, God rest her soul, used to say a black boy is only good till he reaches thirteen. After that, he's man bound, and a black man's no good for nothin', especially since they passed all them laws on workin' 'em.
I thought of my momma and what she had said as that man shook my hand at Helen's funeral. I thought, gee, if only someone had stopped him from growin' up. Just ate his future away. I would still have mine."
Please, stop. I get the intent, but...ugh. I can't stomach this.
From what I've heard it gets worse from there, so I suppose I picked a good(?) enough place to quit.
runninglaur's review against another edition
5.0
With a book so specifically set on the day I was born, it's almost like this book was written for me. The way she combines words just pulled me in, and I'm sure I'll read it again after a while.
Friends, ask for trigger warnings. With a book about the devil, some are needed.
Friends, ask for trigger warnings. With a book about the devil, some are needed.
lizregard's review against another edition
5.0
Loved the book. Everyone in it has a weird name. You've been warned.
cpope9's review against another edition
3.0
2019: This is not a perfect book and there are many things about it that I can complain about, but I was wowed by so much of this. It had so much depth, meaning, and movement. The plot isn’t quite or satisfactory as clear as its morals, but there is so much power in these words, characters, and interactions. The depictions of things like regret, childhood mistakes, and unsurity are unlike anything I’ve ever been able to internalize or describe but they are perfectly described and presented in a way that presents and atmosphere, environment, and tone that I can say I’ve never actually experienced before and it was so powerful.
I can’t really even describe this much more than I can’t forget this book. I will read it and revisit it regularly. There’s so much wisdom and purpose and detail here and it has left me changed. As the book moved on and things crept deeper into darkness, it also being increasing enlightening. More light and clarity came as the story got darker and more complex with a climax that you could see from a mile away feeling like a total shock despite it being the total absolution and conclusion that was needed. It was almost perfect despite its imperfections.
My reaction is probably not universal, and I may edit this rating to four stars at some point. But for now, in the emotional and spiritual wake this book, I’m nothing more than in awe at what I just read.
2024 reread: not sure what I seemed to have gotten from this my first read a few years back but my feelings are wildly different now. Dropping from five stars to 3.5. I really don’t know what I missed this time (or the first time around) but this didn’t move me or affect me the same this go. It’s still absolutely beautiful and thought provoking but also predictable and relentless. I clearly adored it at an earlier time in my life but now just didn’t connect to it. Still would recommend to lots of folks but probably won’t rush back into reading this one again. It’s soo interesting to see the evolution of my reading interests over the years…id have never thought that a 5 star book could possibly drop lower. I’ve dropped 4 star books down and moved some 3 and 4 star books up, but never had a 5 star drop. But this one just sort of did…
I can’t really even describe this much more than I can’t forget this book. I will read it and revisit it regularly. There’s so much wisdom and purpose and detail here and it has left me changed. As the book moved on and things crept deeper into darkness, it also being increasing enlightening. More light and clarity came as the story got darker and more complex with a climax that you could see from a mile away feeling like a total shock despite it being the total absolution and conclusion that was needed. It was almost perfect despite its imperfections.
My reaction is probably not universal, and I may edit this rating to four stars at some point. But for now, in the emotional and spiritual wake this book, I’m nothing more than in awe at what I just read.
2024 reread: not sure what I seemed to have gotten from this my first read a few years back but my feelings are wildly different now. Dropping from five stars to 3.5. I really don’t know what I missed this time (or the first time around) but this didn’t move me or affect me the same this go. It’s still absolutely beautiful and thought provoking but also predictable and relentless. I clearly adored it at an earlier time in my life but now just didn’t connect to it. Still would recommend to lots of folks but probably won’t rush back into reading this one again. It’s soo interesting to see the evolution of my reading interests over the years…id have never thought that a 5 star book could possibly drop lower. I’ve dropped 4 star books down and moved some 3 and 4 star books up, but never had a 5 star drop. But this one just sort of did…
readhikerepeat's review against another edition
5.0
Reviewed at The Book Wheel.
Read this book. It’s not often that I start off a review with these words, but Tiffany McDaniel’s debut novel, The Summer that Melted Everything, is more than worthy of an off-the-bat recommendation. I say this for many reasons: the writing is beautiful, the characters are unforgettable, and the storyline is an important one. Plus, it made the Guardian’s Not the Booker Prize Winners 2016 list, and I never enjoy the Booker winners, so that was a good endorsement.
The book starts off with Autopsy Bliss, father of two, wife of an agoraphobic, and attorney, taking an ad out in the local newspaper inviting the devil to town in the summer of 1984. Perhaps skeptical of even his own ask, everyone is surprised when a 13 year old boy named Sal, with dark skin and green eyes, shows up claiming to be just that. But curiosity and compassion for this lost boy moves the Bliss family to take him in, despite the danger that lurks. But with the devil comes the heat, a stifling and penetrating heat that makes even the best people go mad. And it is this heat that serves as the wave that the story rides along.
Narrated by Fielding Bliss, also 13 that summer, we watch the entire summer unfold both in real-time and from his point of view as an old man. From a series of unfortunate accidents to the community pitting the blame on the devil that came to town, the story is heartbreaking both for its content and the lens through which it is told. But what really got me, and what really made the story seep into my soul, was what was unwritten. This seemingly fiction book is actually quite relevant to what is going on today: A community who blames that which they fear for every misfortune, with the desire to take action rising quickly.
For that is what is at the root of this novel – fear, blame, anger, and love. Fear of what is unknown. Blame for misfortunes. Anger at not understanding. Love for even that which is feared. It even delves, perhaps not so subtly, into religion. What is the devil, anyway? Is it a physical presence, in the form of a young boy? Or is it rooted in the actions that arise from fear? And what if, what if, the devil, the fallen angel himself, is a test along the lines of the Bible’s, “Whatever you did not do for one of the least of these, you did not do for me.”
Although The Summer that Melted Everything does not delve into biblical verses, it does include a series of short vignettes that help shape the story in ways that both propel it and that help define Sal. Each of the stories could be a book in and of themselves, but McDaniels’ use of them is absolute perfection. And in the same ways that she makes Sal real to the reader, she does so for the other main characters. Each is beautifully imperfect, and there’s no way of knowing if the summer of 1984 will break them or define them. This uncertainty bestows upon the book a certain aura that you will only feel if you read it for yourself.
This is all, to be sure, heavy stuff and if you allow yourself to really see what McDaniel is saying, the book is a catalyst for pondering life and introspection. But the ultimate question is: What would you do if the devil came to town?
Read this book. It’s not often that I start off a review with these words, but Tiffany McDaniel’s debut novel, The Summer that Melted Everything, is more than worthy of an off-the-bat recommendation. I say this for many reasons: the writing is beautiful, the characters are unforgettable, and the storyline is an important one. Plus, it made the Guardian’s Not the Booker Prize Winners 2016 list, and I never enjoy the Booker winners, so that was a good endorsement.
The book starts off with Autopsy Bliss, father of two, wife of an agoraphobic, and attorney, taking an ad out in the local newspaper inviting the devil to town in the summer of 1984. Perhaps skeptical of even his own ask, everyone is surprised when a 13 year old boy named Sal, with dark skin and green eyes, shows up claiming to be just that. But curiosity and compassion for this lost boy moves the Bliss family to take him in, despite the danger that lurks. But with the devil comes the heat, a stifling and penetrating heat that makes even the best people go mad. And it is this heat that serves as the wave that the story rides along.
Narrated by Fielding Bliss, also 13 that summer, we watch the entire summer unfold both in real-time and from his point of view as an old man. From a series of unfortunate accidents to the community pitting the blame on the devil that came to town, the story is heartbreaking both for its content and the lens through which it is told. But what really got me, and what really made the story seep into my soul, was what was unwritten. This seemingly fiction book is actually quite relevant to what is going on today: A community who blames that which they fear for every misfortune, with the desire to take action rising quickly.
For that is what is at the root of this novel – fear, blame, anger, and love. Fear of what is unknown. Blame for misfortunes. Anger at not understanding. Love for even that which is feared. It even delves, perhaps not so subtly, into religion. What is the devil, anyway? Is it a physical presence, in the form of a young boy? Or is it rooted in the actions that arise from fear? And what if, what if, the devil, the fallen angel himself, is a test along the lines of the Bible’s, “Whatever you did not do for one of the least of these, you did not do for me.”
Although The Summer that Melted Everything does not delve into biblical verses, it does include a series of short vignettes that help shape the story in ways that both propel it and that help define Sal. Each of the stories could be a book in and of themselves, but McDaniels’ use of them is absolute perfection. And in the same ways that she makes Sal real to the reader, she does so for the other main characters. Each is beautifully imperfect, and there’s no way of knowing if the summer of 1984 will break them or define them. This uncertainty bestows upon the book a certain aura that you will only feel if you read it for yourself.
This is all, to be sure, heavy stuff and if you allow yourself to really see what McDaniel is saying, the book is a catalyst for pondering life and introspection. But the ultimate question is: What would you do if the devil came to town?