Monday, December 3, 2012

SHINE SHINE SHINE - A Book

By pure chance, I happened upon Lydia Netzer's debut novel, SHINE SHINE SHINE. That's right, no commas; thus, immediate breaking of rules! But I digress. The author's mother, Ahno, wrote a blog that I occasionally enjoyed. Within the confines of her own word-crafting, Mom often mentioned family members and events. I'd formed opinions based on what she divulged and thought the clan to be different... kooky, if you will. In a good way, 'cause different is usually interesting, at the very least, and thought provoking at its best. Sadly, Ahno passed away way too soon, but not before she informed her readers of the pending release of Lydia's first.

And so it goes, and so it goes... the book is nothing short of kooky, too, and reminiscent of mind chatter... you know, the brain-contained conversations often had with one's self during which decades-old memories factor in, immediately alongside yesterday's. How better to make a case? Disjointed fragments. :-) Thus is the format for presenting Sunny, the conflicted main character whose most visible society-deemed flaw is her baldness, this being the root of (no pun intended) more disguised foibles. The hairless condition becomes a running theme, suggesting that we are all inflicted/conflicted, though better able to hide under external glitz.

Thing is, everyone in the book has a major issue going on. Husband Maxon and Son Bubber are both on the autism spectrum, to which, by the way, Lydia speaks with great depth and understanding. Pregnant Sunny's mother is dying of cancer. A seemingly successful TV-personality neighbor is living in depressed squalor, as a result of a life altering event. No one is spared. Yet, there is humor. Hmmm, sounds like life itself, eh?

In addition to this emphasis on human imperfection is the constant reminder that as new life blossoms, death looms. I'm reminded of John Irving's final line in GARP,

"In the world according to Garp, we are all terminal cases." 

In a MY MOTHER/MY SELF moment, I wished Lydia had credited Ahno for introducing her to the wordy world, via command reading. The author has certainly mastered language, some of which I do confess to skirting. 

Honestly, on a scale of 1-5 *'s, I'm not sure how I'd rate this... it's unique enough to be in a category of its own, a rebel of sorts. You'll have to judge for yourself. Will I read Ms. Netzer's second novel?
Most likely... in fragments.