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A review by whogivesabook
Speak Gigantular by Irenosen Okojie
1.0
God this book was absolutely devoid of any emotional or intellectual depth.
I originally wrote a huge essay of a review. But then I read it and decided not to bother.
The funny thing is that if they'd have sold this as nonsense fiction (not a disparaging remark, Joyce and Lear are splendid) it would have been pretty fantastic! (If the author reads this, that's a solid piece of advice: reclaim the genre of nonsense fiction; it means you can write like this and everyone will think it is fantastic because there will be no expectation of meaning and you'll escape any criticism based on plot/message/etc..) But INSTEAD they tried to make people believe it had depth and meaning. It's void of both. It angered me to have spent money and listened to the guy who pitched this as brilliant and original.
At its heart this is a bunch of pretty words and images that are no better than the instapoetry nonsense that is the fast food of fiction and desperately needed a guiding hand from a competent editor.
A decent editor would have picked out the two good stories, highlighted them, explained why they worked better and allowed the author a chance to grab the wheel on the others and steer them towards salvation. Not to mention picked up on the numerous errors.
Deeply deeply disappointed in this collection. So much so that I'm not even adding a review of it onto my Instagram, I think this might be the worst book of 2022 and it is only the 20th January.
And if you don't believe me.. read the reviews. Everyone who loves this is imprecise and just as cryptic as the stories are. Their reviews read like album reviews as if they're trying to impress the author with their own nonsensical and sycophantic metaphors. They focus on who the author is and the awards... In short, I doubt their sincerity. Its understandable though. When I was a kid I pretended to love David Bowie's lyrics because I thought he was deep and if I told people I loved him that would make me SEEM deep. Where really I just didn't understand most of what he was chattering on about and that confused me enough to think it WAS deep and then I later learned that his songs were cut-ups and felt stupid. You only learn the truth later in a terrible moment of existential panic. I still love the music though. I won't fall for it again
I originally wrote a huge essay of a review. But then I read it and decided not to bother.
The funny thing is that if they'd have sold this as nonsense fiction (not a disparaging remark, Joyce and Lear are splendid) it would have been pretty fantastic! (If the author reads this, that's a solid piece of advice: reclaim the genre of nonsense fiction; it means you can write like this and everyone will think it is fantastic because there will be no expectation of meaning and you'll escape any criticism based on plot/message/etc..) But INSTEAD they tried to make people believe it had depth and meaning. It's void of both. It angered me to have spent money and listened to the guy who pitched this as brilliant and original.
At its heart this is a bunch of pretty words and images that are no better than the instapoetry nonsense that is the fast food of fiction and desperately needed a guiding hand from a competent editor.
A decent editor would have picked out the two good stories, highlighted them, explained why they worked better and allowed the author a chance to grab the wheel on the others and steer them towards salvation. Not to mention picked up on the numerous errors.
Deeply deeply disappointed in this collection. So much so that I'm not even adding a review of it onto my Instagram, I think this might be the worst book of 2022 and it is only the 20th January.
And if you don't believe me.. read the reviews. Everyone who loves this is imprecise and just as cryptic as the stories are. Their reviews read like album reviews as if they're trying to impress the author with their own nonsensical and sycophantic metaphors. They focus on who the author is and the awards... In short, I doubt their sincerity. Its understandable though. When I was a kid I pretended to love David Bowie's lyrics because I thought he was deep and if I told people I loved him that would make me SEEM deep. Where really I just didn't understand most of what he was chattering on about and that confused me enough to think it WAS deep and then I later learned that his songs were cut-ups and felt stupid. You only learn the truth later in a terrible moment of existential panic. I still love the music though. I won't fall for it again