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?
gurpreetlally's review against another edition
dark
emotional
reflective
sad
medium-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? A mix
- Strong character development? It's complicated
- Loveable characters? It's complicated
- Diverse cast of characters? Yes
- Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes
3.5
Content Warnings
Graphic: Death
piccola_el's review against another edition
5.0
Ho deciso di leggere questo libro dopo averne sentito parlare in un podcast che ‘spaccia consigli di lettura’ e, per qualche motivo, mi ero convinta che vi avrei trovato una storia dalle tinte sovrannaturali, che forse mi avrebbe spaventata un po’; invece, vi ho trovato una storia dolorosamente umana, articolata in uno dei libri più belli ed evocativi che mi sia capitato di incrociare ultimamente.
È l’estate del 1984 quando Breathed, una piccola cittadina dell’Ohio, viene abbracciata da un’ondata di calore che non dà tregua e Fielding Bliss, voce narrante del romanzo, incontra per la prima volta il Diavolo, venuto in città a causa dell’invito a lui rivolto dal padre del ragazzo stesso. Privo di corna, zoccoli, o forcone, il Diavolo si presenta nei panni di un ragazzino smunto, dalla pelle nera e gli occhi verdi come foglie estive, in grado di mostrare come la dannazione infernale sia un fatto tipicamente terreno. Il racconto si srotola nella voce e nei ricordi di Fielding stesso che, ormai ottantaquattrenne, ripercorre quell’estate assolata e violenta, narrando i solchi da essa lasciati nella sua vita.
La scrittura lirica e simbolica, che evoca immagini più che descriverle, intesse un romanzo sui toni del rosso e del giallo, colori emblematici e ricorrenti, percorso da una profonda tristezza e punteggiato da innumerevoli gesti di casuale malvagità squisitamente umana. Un romanzo di formazione la cui parabola sembra piegare verso il basso, verso il fondo delle pulsioni umane più primordiali, di cui non ci si riesce a disfare e che, inevitabilmente, segnano i contorni di una tragedia che è al contempo personale, famigliare, ma anche di una comunità intera e, forse, dell’intera umanità.
Probabilmente non si saprà mai davvero chi è Sal e, sebbene tra le pieghe della narrazione si possa intravedere la sua identità, l’ombra che egli proietta avrà sempre le corna, siano esse quelle del diavolo o di un capro espiatorio.
L’estate che sciolse ogni cosa è un romanzo cupo, che risuona come un gong cavernoso in tutta la sua sconvolgente attualità. “Stiamo parlando del 1984. L’anno in cui, disse George Orwell, saremmo stati convinti a credere che due più due fa cinque. La sua storia ci ha dimostrato che si può controllare la mente. Questa gente ha dimostrato che la realtà non è molto diversa.”
È l’estate del 1984 quando Breathed, una piccola cittadina dell’Ohio, viene abbracciata da un’ondata di calore che non dà tregua e Fielding Bliss, voce narrante del romanzo, incontra per la prima volta il Diavolo, venuto in città a causa dell’invito a lui rivolto dal padre del ragazzo stesso. Privo di corna, zoccoli, o forcone, il Diavolo si presenta nei panni di un ragazzino smunto, dalla pelle nera e gli occhi verdi come foglie estive, in grado di mostrare come la dannazione infernale sia un fatto tipicamente terreno. Il racconto si srotola nella voce e nei ricordi di Fielding stesso che, ormai ottantaquattrenne, ripercorre quell’estate assolata e violenta, narrando i solchi da essa lasciati nella sua vita.
La scrittura lirica e simbolica, che evoca immagini più che descriverle, intesse un romanzo sui toni del rosso e del giallo, colori emblematici e ricorrenti, percorso da una profonda tristezza e punteggiato da innumerevoli gesti di casuale malvagità squisitamente umana. Un romanzo di formazione la cui parabola sembra piegare verso il basso, verso il fondo delle pulsioni umane più primordiali, di cui non ci si riesce a disfare e che, inevitabilmente, segnano i contorni di una tragedia che è al contempo personale, famigliare, ma anche di una comunità intera e, forse, dell’intera umanità.
Probabilmente non si saprà mai davvero chi è Sal e, sebbene tra le pieghe della narrazione si possa intravedere la sua identità, l’ombra che egli proietta avrà sempre le corna, siano esse quelle del diavolo o di un capro espiatorio.
L’estate che sciolse ogni cosa è un romanzo cupo, che risuona come un gong cavernoso in tutta la sua sconvolgente attualità. “Stiamo parlando del 1984. L’anno in cui, disse George Orwell, saremmo stati convinti a credere che due più due fa cinque. La sua storia ci ha dimostrato che si può controllare la mente. Questa gente ha dimostrato che la realtà non è molto diversa.”
ktxx22's review
5.0
2019- this book is still one of the best books I have ever read and it WRECKED me again.
2018-I have read a lot of excellent books this year, and over the last few years, but it is a rare beauty to find a book that is written like this one is. The language and word usage is decadent to say the least. I was hot. I was melted. I was one of those puddles on the ground. It is a small select few of books that are kept for a reread in the future. I’m happy to say I look forward to coming back to Breathed and having my whole perspective of the Devil, good and evil, and humanity smashed to smithereens, again.
Highly recommend this book. Grab a box of tissues. Trigger warnings for just about everything you could be triggered by. And an easy 5/5
2018-I have read a lot of excellent books this year, and over the last few years, but it is a rare beauty to find a book that is written like this one is. The language and word usage is decadent to say the least. I was hot. I was melted. I was one of those puddles on the ground. It is a small select few of books that are kept for a reread in the future. I’m happy to say I look forward to coming back to Breathed and having my whole perspective of the Devil, good and evil, and humanity smashed to smithereens, again.
Highly recommend this book. Grab a box of tissues. Trigger warnings for just about everything you could be triggered by. And an easy 5/5
wanderaven's review against another edition
4.0
St. Martin's Press has always been one of my favourite publishers. Their publications are always top notch and warrant a second glance. When McDaniel's debut novel flickered on my radar, I was intrigued by the synopsis. When I realized that it is published by St. Martin's, I was sold.
Such assumptions can, of course, not always fulfill one's expectations.
In this case, however, my loyalty to St. Martin's was richly rewarded.
Reading The Summer over the last couple of weeks has been rather surreal. It's set in the summer of 1984 with incredibly oppressive heat just crushing the inhabitants of Breathed ("Breath-ed"), Ohio. I'm in Salt Lake, so we don't have the humidity as in Ohio, but the daily temperature has consistently been 97 degrees or above for the last three or four weeks. To muddle through this miserable weather while reading about a summer of hell was an interesting and highly apropos experience. McDaniel excels at setting the environment, both outside and inside Fielding Bliss' home.
The Summer That Melted Everything is magical realism. I have to wonder whether the author or other readers would fully agree with me on this assessment, but I found certain elements to be undeniably magical realism.
While The Summer is set in 1984, the claustrophobic, small-town world, the characters populating it, and the activities of the boys make it feel quite a bit older, sometimes by decades. Sometimes it even has that fantastical feeling you get with magical realism where it's both solid, grounded every day life... but set perhaps even in another world or another dimension/version of our own.
The boy who (seemingly) randomly just shows up in town, claiming to be the devil, Sal, has a maturity and insight unheard for a boy of thirteen or fourteen years old. Don't get me wrong - I am frequently annoyed by reviewers claiming that children in some books wouldn't think/act like their purported age (see: Flavia de Luce series) and this would be for a couple of different reasons: sometimes not giving real children enough credit, and also taking into consideration that many novels could be seen as being told by (or could be inferred to be told by) an older, wiser narrator reflecting on their childhood. But Sal repeatedly seems preternatural, speaking and acting in a way beyond even what one might expect from a boy forged from his experiences. This was anything but a negative to me but I imagine some readers reading without an acceptance of a magical realism element might be put off by this.
My third claim to magical realism for this excellent debut is McDaniel's often strange, twisty, elegant language. It's unique, with certainty, and every once in a while it can be disconcerting, as in this passage where, after reading it three or four times, I was still left with, "What??":
"All love leads to cannibalism. I know that now. Sooner or later, our hearts will devour, if not the object of our affections, our very selves. Teeth are the heart's miracle. That a mouth should burst forth on that organ without throat and crave another's flesh, another's heart, is nothing short of a miracle."
Here, please allow me to put forth a couple of caveats: St Martin's provided an advanced reading copy for my review (the novel's release date is July 26, 2016). I do not always quote from advanced copies because there's always the possibility that changes can be made proceeding the publication date. I'm quoting here because I find some of the language to be poetic, eloquent, finely wrought and want to share because I feel they provide great examples of what you'll be getting into with this novel. Just be aware that changes could be made. As well, maybe you read that paragraph and have no qualms. I certainly didn't with these other passages I selected:
"Summer in Breathed was my favorite season of all. Nothing but barefoot boys and grass-stained girls flowering beneath the trees. My favorite summer sight was those trees. Whether up in the hills or down around the houses, trees were Breathed. Some were old, and they squatted, clothed in heavy moss and time like they were enduring Neanderthals who should not exist. Others were timelessly modern, smooth and lean and familiars to twine."
"At one time he had been engaged, but his fiancée drowned in 1956. Though her body was recovered from the Atlantic and buried in Breathed, he lived as if she were by his side and not low and deep and slowly disappeared by the soft power of the worms."
"She didn't say anything, just threw her arms around him. It was like a cold burning between them. Their skeletons joined at soggy throbs. The space they filled before us, like twisted wire, embedding into itself. They were one grasp. One curve of flesh. One heart breaking in startled, flickering cracks."
Things I didn't love about The Summer: scattered passages similar to the first example I provided, where it felt like the twistiness of the language was perhaps taken just a bit too far so as to be confusing, and to pull me from the story trying to figure it out. Also, I felt somewhat uncomfortable by an element of the characterization of the primary antagonist in the novel - it feels like a physical abnormality is highlighted as part of his darkness, but there was never really a point at which I felt like this was a part of his motivation, or at least not strong enough to be a part of his motivation, to highlight this abnormality as contributing to his darkness. Since this has been done to real people with the condition, it felt a bit like an unnessary and outdated stereotype.
Things I did love about The Summer: McDaniel's tense and original writing, the darkness and depth, and the questions surrounding Sal, the boy claiming to be the devil. While he is most frequently portrayed as more of a fallen angel - kind, generous - rather than a straight devil, there are actually moments in which you realize that some of his actions could be seen as either good or bad, intentional or unintentional. There's also the possibility of Fielding, the protagonist and the boy who brings Sal home with him, as either being an unreliable narrator or at the least an unreliable observer, and this tension just adds richness and layers of patina to this engrossing debut.
Such assumptions can, of course, not always fulfill one's expectations.
In this case, however, my loyalty to St. Martin's was richly rewarded.
Reading The Summer over the last couple of weeks has been rather surreal. It's set in the summer of 1984 with incredibly oppressive heat just crushing the inhabitants of Breathed ("Breath-ed"), Ohio. I'm in Salt Lake, so we don't have the humidity as in Ohio, but the daily temperature has consistently been 97 degrees or above for the last three or four weeks. To muddle through this miserable weather while reading about a summer of hell was an interesting and highly apropos experience. McDaniel excels at setting the environment, both outside and inside Fielding Bliss' home.
The Summer That Melted Everything is magical realism. I have to wonder whether the author or other readers would fully agree with me on this assessment, but I found certain elements to be undeniably magical realism.
While The Summer is set in 1984, the claustrophobic, small-town world, the characters populating it, and the activities of the boys make it feel quite a bit older, sometimes by decades. Sometimes it even has that fantastical feeling you get with magical realism where it's both solid, grounded every day life... but set perhaps even in another world or another dimension/version of our own.
The boy who (seemingly) randomly just shows up in town, claiming to be the devil, Sal, has a maturity and insight unheard for a boy of thirteen or fourteen years old. Don't get me wrong - I am frequently annoyed by reviewers claiming that children in some books wouldn't think/act like their purported age (see: Flavia de Luce series) and this would be for a couple of different reasons: sometimes not giving real children enough credit, and also taking into consideration that many novels could be seen as being told by (or could be inferred to be told by) an older, wiser narrator reflecting on their childhood. But Sal repeatedly seems preternatural, speaking and acting in a way beyond even what one might expect from a boy forged from his experiences. This was anything but a negative to me but I imagine some readers reading without an acceptance of a magical realism element might be put off by this.
My third claim to magical realism for this excellent debut is McDaniel's often strange, twisty, elegant language. It's unique, with certainty, and every once in a while it can be disconcerting, as in this passage where, after reading it three or four times, I was still left with, "What??":
"All love leads to cannibalism. I know that now. Sooner or later, our hearts will devour, if not the object of our affections, our very selves. Teeth are the heart's miracle. That a mouth should burst forth on that organ without throat and crave another's flesh, another's heart, is nothing short of a miracle."
Here, please allow me to put forth a couple of caveats: St Martin's provided an advanced reading copy for my review (the novel's release date is July 26, 2016). I do not always quote from advanced copies because there's always the possibility that changes can be made proceeding the publication date. I'm quoting here because I find some of the language to be poetic, eloquent, finely wrought and want to share because I feel they provide great examples of what you'll be getting into with this novel. Just be aware that changes could be made. As well, maybe you read that paragraph and have no qualms. I certainly didn't with these other passages I selected:
"Summer in Breathed was my favorite season of all. Nothing but barefoot boys and grass-stained girls flowering beneath the trees. My favorite summer sight was those trees. Whether up in the hills or down around the houses, trees were Breathed. Some were old, and they squatted, clothed in heavy moss and time like they were enduring Neanderthals who should not exist. Others were timelessly modern, smooth and lean and familiars to twine."
"At one time he had been engaged, but his fiancée drowned in 1956. Though her body was recovered from the Atlantic and buried in Breathed, he lived as if she were by his side and not low and deep and slowly disappeared by the soft power of the worms."
"She didn't say anything, just threw her arms around him. It was like a cold burning between them. Their skeletons joined at soggy throbs. The space they filled before us, like twisted wire, embedding into itself. They were one grasp. One curve of flesh. One heart breaking in startled, flickering cracks."
Things I didn't love about The Summer: scattered passages similar to the first example I provided, where it felt like the twistiness of the language was perhaps taken just a bit too far so as to be confusing, and to pull me from the story trying to figure it out. Also, I felt somewhat uncomfortable by an element of the characterization of the primary antagonist in the novel - it feels like a physical abnormality is highlighted as part of his darkness, but there was never really a point at which I felt like this was a part of his motivation, or at least not strong enough to be a part of his motivation, to highlight this abnormality as contributing to his darkness. Since this has been done to real people with the condition, it felt a bit like an unnessary and outdated stereotype.
Things I did love about The Summer: McDaniel's tense and original writing, the darkness and depth, and the questions surrounding Sal, the boy claiming to be the devil. While he is most frequently portrayed as more of a fallen angel - kind, generous - rather than a straight devil, there are actually moments in which you realize that some of his actions could be seen as either good or bad, intentional or unintentional. There's also the possibility of Fielding, the protagonist and the boy who brings Sal home with him, as either being an unreliable narrator or at the least an unreliable observer, and this tension just adds richness and layers of patina to this engrossing debut.
kimjamlee's review against another edition
dark
emotional
reflective
sad
tense
medium-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? A mix
- Strong character development? It's complicated
- Loveable characters? It's complicated
- Diverse cast of characters? Yes
- Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes
5.0
banhart04's review
challenging
dark
emotional
sad
tense
slow-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? Character
- Loveable characters? Yes
4.0
moirwyn's review against another edition
4.0
This review originally appeared on my blog, Books Without Any Pictures:
http://bookswithoutanypictures.com/2016/08/08/the-summer-that-melted-everything-by-tiffany-mcdaniel/
The Summer That Melted Everything by Tiffany McDaniel explores the loss of innocence in a sleepy Ohio town. Fielding Bliss is a kid growing up in Breathed, Ohio. His dad is a judge, and has been struggling with the ethical implications of his role. When he started his career, he saw everything in black and white, and saw himself as an agent of justice and ultimately God's will, but slowly he realizes that despite his best efforts, sometimes even he can get it wrong and condemn the innocent. Fielding's dad posts an add in a local newspaper inviting Satan himself to come to town. He didn't expect to receive an answer, and certainly not in the form of a thirteen-year-old black boy named Sal.
Because he has nowhere else to go, Fielding's family takes him in. The entire town of Bliss is suspicious of Sal, but he quickly wins over some friends, beginning with Fielding. He also makes enemies as the residents of Bliss start to blame Sal for everything that goes wrong. They're unable to accept that sometimes bad things happen to good people, and they see in Sal a convenient scapegoat. The tension builds throughout the novel until it comes to its ultimate tragic conclusion.
The Summer That Melted Everything starts out as magical realism. Sal claims to be the devil, and he has a host of stories and parables that seem pretty convincing. But as the story progresses, it becomes more and more obvious that Sal is just a kid who's had an extremely difficult life. He feels like the devil, because he understands what it's like to be cast out. But he's also wise and kind and helps heal the broken. The real devil doesn't have horns and a tail, it's the hatred and mistrust and resentment that are present in ordinary people and cause them to do terrible things.
When the story starts to get real, it does so in a hard way. Through Fielding's eyes, we go from the innocence of youth to tough social issues like racism, domestic violence, and AIDS. We see Fielding as a child, and we also see him as a bitter old man who is haunted by the past and lives in his own personal hell. There's no salvation in this story. And to me, the scariest part of The Summer That Melted Everything isn't just my sadness and horror at the story's ending, but the fact that I'm afraid that we haven't progressed enough as a society since then.
The story's antagonist, Elohim, preys on people's fears and amplifies their superstition. He fosters a mob mentality that grows to an unstoppable force. And despite the best efforts of good and honorable people like Fielding's father, there's nothing that can be done to stop it until the madness has run it's course and people look back at it and themselves in horror. And the worst part is that as a reader you can see it coming from a mile away and are powerless to stop it.
This is the kind of book that will make you cry and make you want to hold those you love very closely. I truly enjoyed the beginning of the book, but as I continued reading, it became more and more upsetting, and I felt more and more withdrawn. It hit me hard emotionally. That is the mark of a masterfully written story.
http://bookswithoutanypictures.com/2016/08/08/the-summer-that-melted-everything-by-tiffany-mcdaniel/
The Summer That Melted Everything by Tiffany McDaniel explores the loss of innocence in a sleepy Ohio town. Fielding Bliss is a kid growing up in Breathed, Ohio. His dad is a judge, and has been struggling with the ethical implications of his role. When he started his career, he saw everything in black and white, and saw himself as an agent of justice and ultimately God's will, but slowly he realizes that despite his best efforts, sometimes even he can get it wrong and condemn the innocent. Fielding's dad posts an add in a local newspaper inviting Satan himself to come to town. He didn't expect to receive an answer, and certainly not in the form of a thirteen-year-old black boy named Sal.
Because he has nowhere else to go, Fielding's family takes him in. The entire town of Bliss is suspicious of Sal, but he quickly wins over some friends, beginning with Fielding. He also makes enemies as the residents of Bliss start to blame Sal for everything that goes wrong. They're unable to accept that sometimes bad things happen to good people, and they see in Sal a convenient scapegoat. The tension builds throughout the novel until it comes to its ultimate tragic conclusion.
The Summer That Melted Everything starts out as magical realism. Sal claims to be the devil, and he has a host of stories and parables that seem pretty convincing. But as the story progresses, it becomes more and more obvious that Sal is just a kid who's had an extremely difficult life. He feels like the devil, because he understands what it's like to be cast out. But he's also wise and kind and helps heal the broken. The real devil doesn't have horns and a tail, it's the hatred and mistrust and resentment that are present in ordinary people and cause them to do terrible things.
When the story starts to get real, it does so in a hard way. Through Fielding's eyes, we go from the innocence of youth to tough social issues like racism, domestic violence, and AIDS. We see Fielding as a child, and we also see him as a bitter old man who is haunted by the past and lives in his own personal hell. There's no salvation in this story. And to me, the scariest part of The Summer That Melted Everything isn't just my sadness and horror at the story's ending, but the fact that I'm afraid that we haven't progressed enough as a society since then.
The story's antagonist, Elohim, preys on people's fears and amplifies their superstition. He fosters a mob mentality that grows to an unstoppable force. And despite the best efforts of good and honorable people like Fielding's father, there's nothing that can be done to stop it until the madness has run it's course and people look back at it and themselves in horror. And the worst part is that as a reader you can see it coming from a mile away and are powerless to stop it.
This is the kind of book that will make you cry and make you want to hold those you love very closely. I truly enjoyed the beginning of the book, but as I continued reading, it became more and more upsetting, and I felt more and more withdrawn. It hit me hard emotionally. That is the mark of a masterfully written story.
elliehamilton38's review against another edition
dark
emotional
mysterious
sad
slow-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? A mix
- Strong character development? Yes
- Loveable characters? Yes
- Diverse cast of characters? Yes
- Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes
4.0