Marilou is Everywhere

by Sarah Elaine Smith
Feb 9-23, 2020

I happened upon Marilou by chance. A dear friend of mine emailed one day from Chicago to tell me that an old high school friend of hers was doing a book reading at a bar in Cleveland the next night. On that cold, rainy night I was instantly hypnotized by Sarah's voice. I bought the book at the event, which she signed with a thoughtful, joyful passage. I couldn't wait to get started.

The book begins so atmospheric and calming, and I could still hear Sarah's voice reading aloud in my head. I could instantly put myself in that time and place. It was evident that the author meticulously crafted each and every sentence – she has two Master's degrees; fiction and poetry.

"The pond looked alive to me, even the shape of the hills around it... I felt, all at the same moment, that it was valiant for beauty and also so plain that it embarrassed me to belong to it... under the hawthorns, fine dappled mushrooms winked like they had invented themselves..."

Her metaphors were dreamy and yet so descriptive. But at some point, I felt that I was just indulging the poet.

"It was my time and I felt fat. A rose is. The dew of a frigid October. Buster Keaton's beautiful eyes."

I must have read those sentences five times trying to figure out what it had to do with the game of charades two characters were playing (I think – nothing.). What makes a great novel is the character development, but suddenly the characters felt empty and shallow.

"I felt like my words were made out of bones and hot dogs and nonsense."

How does that help the reader? This short book was moving at a snail's pace, and I really wanted to find out what happened, but instead one chapter was entirely devoted to soy sauce. And some excerpts were completely out of character comparative to the perfectly-honed ones:

"And Clinton didn't say about it, so I didn't say about it, and the green fur was was coming back up in divots..."

That feels like it belongs in a different book. The randomness seemed to grow rampant. The plot definitely lost track. When the climax was finally revealed, I found myself appalled at what an absolutely horrible person the so-called protagonist was – unfounded and out of nowhere. I feel like the book would have been better served to stick to a more concise plot and "try" a little less. I grew so very weary of the poetry and the metaphors, I was bored.

There's no doubt Sarah has a talent, it just needs a bit more focus for future novels. Three stars for the friend connection, but really only 2.5.

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