Skip to main content

Review 20: The Story of My Teeth by Valeria Luiselli

The Story of My Teeth
The Story of my Teeth by Mexican author Valeria Luiselli, is a post-modern funhouse in the style of a slightly less surreal The Third Policeman. Which means it might not be up everyone’s street, but it’s more up mine than my own front door is.

It follows the life of “Highway” Sanchez, a highly talented auctioneer who’s a yarn-spinner extraordinaire. He is also a collector of just about anything: fingernail clippings, paperclips, courses, stories.

It’s this last that the book is principally concerned with, although it does touch kaleidoscopically upon a whole rumination of philosophical questions (which is – or should be – the correct collective noun to use) along the way.

As we follow Highway’s progress, we understand not only his talent for storytelling, but also the importance of stories in general. After all, the items that he auctions only have worth as a result of their personal histories. The more impressive a story an item has, the more money it fetches. It’s his life’s ambition to sell just the stories and not have to bother with the items at all.

This is obviously taking its cues from surrealist fiction but it does a fantastic job of exploring this in an unpretentious way, unlike (it feels like) the majority of post-modern surrealist fiction. There are, of course, multiple layers, and I’m certain I missed the relevance of certain points, being the brain-dumb stump that I am. But that didn’t prevent me from enjoying it one bit – it just added richness, and made it a book I’ll probably revisit again in the future.

These might be heady ideas, and he might regularly drop in references to philosophers, ancient historians and niche musicians, but the character of Highway is mostly a pretty straightforward chap. He isn’t likeable – he’s a womaniser and a fraud – but his general optimism feels infectious.

Overall, if you can take a bit of absurdity in your books, this is a short, fun and thought-provoking one to pop in your pocket.

--

This is my twentieth book review of 100 to raise money for Refuge, the domestic abuse charity. If you liked this review, or just want to help out, please donate on the link below!

JustGiving - Sponsor me now!

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Review 43: The Lottery and Other Stories by Shirley Jackson

I didn’t quite know what to expect from Shirley Jackson. I feel like she’s often put into the thriller category, but if you encountered her alongside John Grishams and P.D. Jameses, I suspect you’d consider her misplaced. Mostly, though, I only knew it from a brief mention on The Simpsons, shortly before Homer throws the book into the fireplace. I know, I know. This is what you get from Broken Britain’s education system. Imagine my delight, then, to find that The Lottery and other stories is a collection of carefully-crafted short story gems. Turns out that people enter the literary canon for a reason. Who knew? Jackson’s stories have a clear theme running through them of propriety and conformity. She tackles these from lots of different angles – judgemental mothers, anxious homeowners, murderous communities. These are all brilliantly polished, mostly viewed from the perspective she knew best – city life in 40s and 50s America. There’s a clear focus on gender here too, w...

Review 36: Vampires in the Lemon Grove by Karen Russell

Across the course of this challenge, I’ve tended to pick authors whom I know are well-respected, or books that have sat on my ‘to read’ list endlessly, gathering dust and weeping like abandoned children. So when I saw Karen Russell’s Vampires in the Lemon Grove winking at me, a book I’ve never heard of by an author I’ve never heard of, but with a frankly excellent title, I thought Are you Abba? Because I’m gonna take a chance on you. I’m delighted that I did. VITLG is a book of short stories, each of which follows a similar form: there’s a weird idea that forms the crux of the plot, and then Russell sets about making it feel fleshed out with believable characters. It would be wrong to call this surrealism, because there’s generally only a single oddity in each story. But it’s also not quite magic realism. It’s somewhere in-between. Or if it is magic realism, it’s 90% realism and 10% magic. It’s on the Murakami road. Let’s be exemplokleptomaniacs and take an example: in on...

Review 24: The Flick by Annie Baker

My first play of my 100 Book Year is the Pulitzer prize-winning The Flick from American playwright Annie Baker. Oof, that almost sounds like the opening to Wikipedia article. But instead of rewriting it, I’m just going to reference that fact and turn this intro into solid gold through the lazy medium of apparent self-awareness. ANYWAY, it centres on three people working in a run-down little cinema in Worcester, Massachusetts. It’s the first I’ve read / seen of Annie Baker, but it’s apparently very representative of her style: lots of small, apparently mundane conversations by everyday people, that are vehicles for big overall emotional shifts. This gives a lot of space for nuance, which I like, and goofball humour, which I like even more. Imagine all the crummiest jobs a minimum-wage cinema attendant might have to deal with, condensed into a few short interactions. It could be depressing, but Baker makes it hilarious. Plays are different to novels in that novels have the...