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La petite fille qui aimait trop les allumettes by Gaétan Soucy
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's review
Sep 28, 08

it was amazing
Recommended for: indie-film junkies

The narrator of this story speaks with an old-world cadence, startlingly original and evocative phrasing folded in among distressingly detailed accounts of cruelty, filth, and deviance. After reaching the alarming conclusion of the book with its multiple revelations, I went back to the beginning and realized that most of the "twist" elements are present right up front; Soucy creates a reality that's so dense with peculiarity that the reader gets disoriented, unable to figure out how to weight each piece of information.

It's the story of two isolated teenagers who discover their authoritarian horror of a father dead and then have to figure out how to deal with this. Most of the book is just the narrator recounting the way that they were brought up and the ordeal of venturing into town to purchase a coffin, but there's so much going on here that I felt this slim volume could easily have been double the size and still not tell enough of the story.

Soucy's book is part terror-cult porn, part Silent Hill lore, part schismatic Jésus de Montréal. I had something of a hard time reading it at first, and then suddenly at one point my brain clicked over into the dreadful little place that the narrator inhabits and I couldn't stop thinking about the book, ravenous to finish it. And then when I finally did, I wished I hadn't.
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