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A review by seethinglloron
Lakewood by Megan Giddings
challenging
dark
mysterious
tense
fast-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? Plot
- Strong character development? Yes
- Loveable characters? It's complicated
- Diverse cast of characters? Yes
- Flaws of characters a main focus? It's complicated
5.0
I've been crying for an hour, since I reached part two. I am trying to act nornal in my plane seat right now.
I have read a lot of shocking, gory, surreal, unsettling literature. I love shit that makes me want to turn away, to cringe, to stand up and walk away. I have never been so nauseous that I had to stop reading a book and watch a youtube video to take my mind off what I'd just read. I only do that when I wake up from nightmares where I'm being chased by unnaturally large spiders, or where there are bees so deep in my ears that those hoes are in my g-ddamn brain. This was incredible, and no one in my life can read it because reading this means knowing that Giddings has a industrial-size drill, and this novel aims right for the pupil and makes you watch in the mirror as it pushes and pushes, veins popping out with the strain. I forgot where I was while reading it. I felt my stomach turn over at the mundane cruelty of it, the terror of looking down the barrel of something evil that asks, would you tolerate what I can do to you if it meant you would be safe, happy, and fed for the rest of your life?
I shocked myself with how fast I started to cry when the main character described the vacations she wanted to take her ailing mother on in France. I couldn't read the screen with how watery my eyes got as she watched the video on the tablet in the cabin. I felt fear. Real, honest-to-YHWH fear. This novel should be taught in schools, in college. This should be mandatory reading for anyone interested in learning about American history of medicine, of anti-Black racism, of governmental power, of how Americans consider class, of psychology as a created industry, of what the mind does when put under primal pressure in a postmodern world.
Beautiful prose. Babies screaming like melted glass, foaming lakes, nights as creatures.
I don't know what else to say. Don't read this in public. Hold your loved ones tight. Don't drink anything you didn't watch be poured. Don't trust anyone in a labcoat. Read this yesterday.
I have read a lot of shocking, gory, surreal, unsettling literature. I love shit that makes me want to turn away, to cringe, to stand up and walk away. I have never been so nauseous that I had to stop reading a book and watch a youtube video to take my mind off what I'd just read. I only do that when I wake up from nightmares where I'm being chased by unnaturally large spiders, or where there are bees so deep in my ears that those hoes are in my g-ddamn brain. This was incredible, and no one in my life can read it because reading this means knowing that Giddings has a industrial-size drill, and this novel aims right for the pupil and makes you watch in the mirror as it pushes and pushes, veins popping out with the strain. I forgot where I was while reading it. I felt my stomach turn over at the mundane cruelty of it, the terror of looking down the barrel of something evil that asks, would you tolerate what I can do to you if it meant you would be safe, happy, and fed for the rest of your life?
Beautiful prose. Babies screaming like melted glass, foaming lakes, nights as creatures.
I don't know what else to say. Don't read this in public. Hold your loved ones tight. Don't drink anything you didn't watch be poured. Don't trust anyone in a labcoat. Read this yesterday.
Content Warnings
Graphic: Gore, Panic attacks/disorders, Violence, Blood, and Medical trauma
Moderate: Death