Michelangelo Electric, un roman captivant si neconventional care s-a numarat printre finalistele prestigiosului Booker Prize 2004, face parte din Colectia Raftul Denisei (foarte faina si ingrijita) si prezinta povestea fascinanta a unui artist tatuator de la inceputul secolului XX cand aceasta meserie era marginalizata si privita cu dezgust.“Tatuajele puteau fi socante un timp. Dar in cele din urma deveneau componente obisnuite ale anatomiei umane. Oamenii treceau prin viata ca niste cani indelung folosite, adunand cioburi, zgarieturi si pete, de atata uzura, dupa ce au continut si au turnat viata.”Michelangelo Electric de Sarah Hall are un inceput visceral si pe alocuri poate neplacut pentru cei obisnuiti cu o lectura soft dar pe masura ce treci de primele 30 de pagini incepe sa te fascineze tot mai mult. E drept ca dialogul este aproape inexistent iar limbajul este un fel de proza poetica, pe alocuri mult prea incarcat si cu detalii ce nu prea-si au rostul insa, daca ai rabdare, gasesti fraze tari si minunate.“Tatuarea era un salt inainte. Era implicita. Era explicita. Era intimitate absoluta, intimitate cu intreaga lume primara care fute, ucide, iubeste. Astea sunt culorile fundamentale ale vietii, nu? Cele trei culori originale pe care fiintele umane doar le amesteca pentru a scoate din ele nuante civilizate.”Povestea il urmareste pe Cy (Cyril Parks), un pusti ce creste in hotelul pentru tuberculosi al mamei sale, de la prima sa intalnire cu viitorul mentor intr-ale tatuajului, Eliot Riley (foarte dubios si decadent), trecand prin perioada de ucenicie, mutarea la New York, apoi in Coney Island unde isi gaseste muza (o artista de circ ce traieste intr-un apartament impreuna cu calul sau) si revenirea in Morecambe-le natal de pe coastele Marii Britanii.Desi nu se spun prea multe despre sentimentele sau gandurile lui Cy, autoarea strecoara multe alte povestioare si detalii despre vietile altora, despre ce poarta in spate cel mai mic dintre semnele imprimate in piele.“Deodata, Cy intelese despre ce era vorba. Vazu dincolo de cerneala rosie care intra in piele. Vazu prin miezul lucrarii lui, vazu cum daruia lumii comunicare fara compromis, cum scotea la iveala sinele. Cum talmacea experienta si identitatea in culoare si forma. Cum el reprezenta mainile artistice ale celorlalti oameni, poate redundant in alegerea temei, dar imperativ in transmiterea ei. Aceasta era esenta sa stranie si imposibila.”Deasemeni, in roman se regasesc subiecte referitoare la litoralul infloritor al Marii Britanii inainte de Primul Razboi Mondial, la succesul si prabusirea lui Coney Island, originile si tehnicile primitive folosite in arta tatuajului si, ce mi-a placut cel mai mult, introducerea in lumea vie si colorata a “freak show”-urilor din anii 1900.Merita sa intri intr-o atmosfera aparte si sa-l cunosti pe Michelangelo electric pentru ca el picteaza inimi, si picteaza suflete.
It took me longer than expected to finish this book because I forgot to take it with me for the summer. When we finally reunited two nights ago, it didn't take long to remember the reasons I fell for it and also why sometimes I wanted to compress it and make the story move faster.Why I picked it up? Because I liked the title (still do) and I've never before read a book with a tattoo artist as one of the main characters. This is a very ... language-oriented book. If English is not your first language, you'll probably be challenged by new words every once in a while. The sentences are long, the descriptions of characters, their surroundings and their inner worlds very often went on for paragraphs. Sometimes it got dull because of the lack of dialogue and plot, especially when Elliott Riley appears. What was really well written were the parts giving historical background on Morecambe Bay and Coney Island (you can see that the writer really did her research), as well as musings on life, death and tattooing. That's what this book is about. Ink on skin and blood beneath it, in vivid and long descriptions, the result of which was (at least for me) a deep emotional impact. I thought Cy as a character and especially Michael Sedak's motivation for doing what he did should have been more developed in the last section of the book. There was no balance between their characterization and the development of plotline and I missed that. On the other hand, I really enjoyed the passages describing Grace's tattoo sessions with Cy because they lead up to a build up in expectation and emotion that kept me glued to the pages.Optimistic melancholy. That's how The Electric Michelangelo feels.
Do You like book The Electric Michelangelo (2005)?
What Sarah Hall does well in "The Electric Michelangelo" are descriptions. The images of blood, coughed up from lungs or pulled with a tattoo needle, are vivid enough to make me queasy. Likewise, I can perfectly imagine the characters and their every mannerism, except the main character Cyril whose perspective gives the story. However, after all these carefully constructed visuals I was left wanting more plot. The main action takes many fewer pages than the descriptions and happens so abruptly that I had to reread it to understand what had happened. After creating all these fascinating characters, I really wanted Hall to do something with them. I realize that some things were left intentionally mysterious, but I feel like a great thing about fiction is its ability to reveal some of the secrets that you never find out in life.
—Allie
The strange thing is that I remember not liking it very much but finished it anyway. I just went back and read the Amazon reviews of the books and now I remember - the writing was really beautiful and the book introduced me to a world - a couple, actually - that were completely unfamiliar to me. But it was a sad and dark and disturbing book, and I think that's why I remember not liking it very much.Cy is a child of a single mother in a small seaside town in England early in the 20th century. His mother runs a hotel that is more of an infirmary for tuberculosis patients who have come to "take the sea air" in hopes that it will help their disease. When Cy gets a little older, he becomes the apprentice of the town's tattoo artist, an engaging and creepy character. He teaches Cy all there is to know about tattooing, including how to give oneself a tattoo with ink and a hammer and a nail. Cy ends up in New York City and gravitates to Coney Island, where he meets an entertaining assortment of carneys. One of them is Grace, who does an act with her horse that she keeps in her apartment. Yes, really. Grace gives Cy the opportunity to craft his masterpiece - a tattoo that will cover Grace from the neck down. He agrees and falls in love with her... but their romance is not meant to be.It's a sad book. Sad things happen to nearly all of the characters. I suppose that is true in nearly everyone's life, however...
—Emily
Tattoists, freakshows, the whole motley alternative scene lovingly described in luxurious prose, the book's title beguiling and hypnotic. The initial setting the bleak seaside resort of Morecambe, a place heavily linked to my own past. When I saw this book I knew I had to have it.But, to me, it's cobbled together, strangely bland, a stylistic mess. Almost every page has a cute swirl of a hyphen disrupting the text so that it feels you are reading an author's draft notes before they cunningly fit them together. It smacks of laziness and dumps the reader back into their living room/commuting train/bathtub/bed. I don't want to be faced with a long list of separate scenes, I want to be dazzled by a coherent journey that is as much about the way language is used as about the emotional travel of the characters. That isn't to say Hall doesn't love language- she is clearly a linguaphile- but there is no emotional resonance in it. Our access to the central character of Cy Parks is as skin-deep as his tattoo creations.It is rare for me to not finish a book- I even completed the woeful 'Family Arsenal' by Paul Theroux- but every time I saw this book's face I felt a rush of anger, as if it was depleting my life force. This little relationship had to end in a preemptive divorce.
—James Barker
