by MARY WORONOV
Nowhere near the compelling vicinity of her sublimely exhilarating 'Snake' novel, this novel barely has a plot to call its own and gloomily revolves around a woman called Molly who's frustratingly stuck in a loveless marriage.
Whereas 'Snake' was a racy thriller and easily likened to the top-notch novels by Jenny Siler and Joe R. Lansdale, save for the enthralling opening few chapters of 'Niagara,' this novel is something of a washout.
Still, Woronov's distinctive writing style should keep you pretty riveted, and there are a few decent, worth-their-wait revelations in store for Molly which concern her beloved half-brother Kenny, who supposedly drowned after plunging over the Niagara Falls in a barrel, but who might just be alive. 'If it weren't for the guardrails more than one of them would have jumped to their watery death, mistaking it for eternal light. As a candle cannot help drawing moths, the Falls drew the depressed, the tired, the weak and the mystics who thought there must be a better place beyond reality, beyond the veil of tears that rose out of Niagara.' Unless, that is, Molly is hallucinating - as the characters that Mary Woronov creates in her novels tend to do to a worrying extent.
Far from being dull or boring, the final paragraph - especially - is fantastic� you just wish there was more of a story that leads up to such a startling point of no return: 'My next reincarnation is here in this sunless world, looking for bodies as my father had done along the river. At the edge of the cove the water suddenly turned cold.' Cleverly cryptic, we presume Molly - ironically - falls victim to the perils of water too.
Far more surreal and bemusing than Woronov's other work, 'Niagara' reminds of Margaret Atwood's challenging 'Surfacing' novel. With her dysfunctional family pivoting on everything, Molly's estranged mother - in conversation with Molly - boils the truth down right to its crux:
'You cannot drift� have no roots, no grandmothers, no ancestors. Without roots the tree is destined to become worthless driftwood.'
'Don't be silly, Ma. I have a marriage, a house, a car.'
'These are possessions, not roots.'
And that should have told her.
While this was a disappointing read after 'Snake,' rest assured that Woronov's way with writing poetic prose still never falters and I shan't be put off her work in any respect.
(Steve Rudd)
ISBN 1-85242-801-5 (SERPENT'S TAIL; 2002)
www.serpentstail.com