Melanie TemReseñas

Flashes of brilliance are overwhelmed by a wandering plot and too much repeated existential musing by pretty much everyone. I kept getting the impression that Tem had a really good story about familial angst and abuse that, for whatever reason, she forced into a werewolf trope that detracted from the psychologically and sociologically profound topics she was dealing with. I kept thinking, “now just pull out the werewolf bit here.”

There’s also an unnecessary flashback final chapter that tells us all this stuff we don’t need to know.

A weird sort of vampire novel written from the perspective of a 12 year old girl. As such, the prose is very spare and juvenile and there just aren't a lot of strong metaphors or similes. This is always an issue for me when the protagonist is a child and the narration is from the child's perspective. When this is handled as a flashback or memory from an adult, the author has more latitude in the prose.

At first you think the bad guy is a child peeper and diddler (and of course a murderer) but he ends up as something equally sinister but much different. A body violation is still a body violation. If pedophilia is not to your fictional taste then this is probably not for you.

A decent read that I just had trouble getting into for the reasons above. Tem also did not get me to feel the sense of dread and suspense for Lucy's fate. Tem makes all the brats pretty unlikeable and although we get into Lucy's head, and understand her turmoil, I just didn't care what happened in the end.

Three solid stars, no more.

La faccio breve, libro veramente scorretto, utilizzare nascondendo l'argomento Horror per approdare nella pedofilia, il finale è indecente...
la scrittura poi è alquanto di piu' irritante, un continuo salto da prima alla terza persona, storia piena zeppa di descrizioni zavorre che nulla donano al continuum narrativo...
per dirla in due parole povere: du balle cosmiche!!!

La faccio breve, libro veramente scorretto, utilizzare nascondendo l'argomento Horror per approdare nella pedofilia, il finale è indecente...
la scrittura poi è alquanto di piu' irritante, un continuo salto da prima alla terza persona, storia piena zeppa di descrizioni zavorre che nulla donano al continuum narrativo...
per dirla in due parole povere: du balle cosmiche!!!

2.5 Stars

Read all my reviews on http://urlphantomhive.booklikes.com

This turned out to be a completely different novel than I expected. I somehow thought it would be a suspense novel, probably the wood thingy that gave me that impression. However, I never expected it to be a family saga.

Alexandra goes back to her father Alexander after 30-something years because he's dying and her siblings would like her to come. Then she finds out he's been experimenting on them since they were young children.

Although it was a fast and not unentertaining read, it did fell short for me. It was never really engaging, nor was I really curious to find out more about the family. I didn't like any of the family members. I was a little disappointed.

Thanks to the publisher and Netgalley for providing me with a free copy of this book in exchange for an honest review!

Dark, unsettling view of an abusive relationship, which is seen from an ever-shifting temporal perspective.

http://alookatabook.blogspot.com/2009/08/it-appears-i-become-sidetracked.html

Once upon a time the writer of this blog was an impressionable young girl. This time period happened to be the early Nineties, when Dell was publishing bizarre horror novels with their Abyss imprint. Blog author grew up, nearly drowned under a wave of nostalgia and bought a handful of Abyss books at used shops and off Amazon. Prodigal is the first one to be reread after a dozen plus years. Tem is an excellent author but Prodigal feels like a first effort. Not surprising, because it was Tem’s first novel. A bit rough around the edges, it still packs a punch. Enjoyed.

A strange sort of memoir, at times genuinely frightening, at others quite touching, but at all times just a little too slight. I never read the original (well praised) novella, so I can't really judge, but I'm not sure there was cause to expand it here. There's a great deal to really like, but it doesn't hang together in any form I could really love.

This is an odd little book: a biographical, explorative discussion of the imagination, of the story we build in our lives to explain various anxieties. The un-marked balance between fact and fiction occasionally distracted me, despite the book's assertion that everything is "truth". The self-involved nature of the book (the authors writing about their imaginations) sometimes distracted me too. But, most of the time, I found it a compelling form of narrative, fascinatingly interstitial. It is definitely worth reading for those who want to explore the many shapes a novel can take, the many aspects it can tug into itself. Genre lines are refreshingly absent.½

The Man on the Ceiling, written by the married team of Melanie Tem and Steve Rasnic Tem, is an extension of the award-winning novella by the same name. As of 2008, the novella was the only work to win all three major dark fantasy and horror awards: the World Fantasy Award, the Bram Stoker Award, and the International Horror Guild Award. I haven't read the original The Man on the Ceiling, but if it is anything near the caliber of the book, it well deserves the accolades.

The Man on the Ceiling is a difficult book for me to describe, so instead I'll quote the text itself as it will do a better job than I could ever manage:

"This memoir--or testament, if you will--is as much a biography of one family's imagination as chronicle of real life events. It is about both our love and our fear, about what we know and what we cannot know but can imagine. And although what happens in the imagination may be real in a different way than the apparent history of waking events, it is real just the same."

Even before the book begins, the authors affirm that "Everything we're about to tell you here is true," a sentiment that is continually repeated throughout the text--a gentle but terrifying reminder that just because something is categorized as fiction doesn't mean that it false. The Man on the Ceiling is brutally honest, and demands the head-on confrontation and acceptance of our fears. The book is indeed True.

The Tem's are both award-winning authors of horror and dark fantasy in their own right and are incredibly imaginative. Their roles as storytellers permeate the book and their lives. The basis for much of The Man on the Ceiling draws on the Tem's experiences as the adoptive parents of troubled children. A particular touchstone is the tragic death of one of their children when he was only nine years old. The intense emotions of love, joy, grief, and despair are intertwined to create a marvelous and profoundly genuine work.

One of the reasons I find the book so hard to describe is because it is so utterly surreal; I have never read anything like it before. It is visceral, gut-wrenching, and horrifying. But at the same time, while it is disquieting, I found it oddly comforting. There's no real plot to speak of--it's more like a drifting exploration of feelings, life, and death. The stories told and the moments depicted are intricately related and it is surprising how cohesive the book is despite its dark kaleidoscopic nature. It's difficult to tell what is real and what is not, but in the end it doesn't really matter because it's all true.

I came across The Man on the Ceiling mostly by accident and decided to pick up the book more on a whim than anything else. I am so glad that I did. First, I checked it out from my local library (there was a waiting list), but it wasn't long until I knew I needed my own copy of the book. While it is often described as horror, that characterization only begins to touch on the depth and complexity of the work. The Man on the Ceiling, and especially its style, is not something that everyone will appreciate. However, it is absolutely one of the best books I've read. The Man on the Ceiling is an extraordinarily evocative book, and I know it is one I'll come back to again.

Experiments in Reading½

I have to be honest here: I'm biased. Not in the obvious way though. Steve Rasnic Tem and Melanie Tem were the writers-in-residence during the dreaded Week 5 of Odyssey 2005. Well, them and Melanie's guide dog, Dominic, who I think kept us all sane. The Tems were a sharp couple, and they thoroughly interacted and engaged with every single one of us students, and they always gave each us of their full attention. I have to admit, I didn't always agree with their crits (of my own work, of course. ;)) but they were open, honest, and willing to TALK about the work and get to know us better, and that left a far more lasting impression in my mind than anything else.

The only writing of theirs I've read were two short stories (one from each writer) right before they showed up at Odyssey. I didn't pay much attention then, because I didn't know them and the stories didn't grab me at the time, and I've never sought out their work. Until now.

I saw this book through LibraryThing's Early Reviewer Program, and I didn't hesitate to sign up for an ARC. Why not? This was a book they'd written TOGETHER, and it had a gorgeous cover. I couldn't pass it up.

And it turns out, I didn't have to. I won my copy of the ARC, and decided to hell with whatever I thought of the book, I was getting the REAL copy anyway, so I passed my ARC on to and snuggled up with the REAL, pretty-cover copy.

This is one of those reviews that doesn't need a cut. Hell, it doesn't even need a blurb about the premise, because the book is beautiful, surreal, and haunting in such a subtle way you're not even sure it's happening until it suddenly grips you. The Man on the Ceiling is in many ways, creative non-fiction, but it's practically an interstitial work, a book that blurs the lines between fact, fiction, memory, and imagination, but grounds it all in truth. I rarely had trouble discerning when Melanie wrote versus Steve, and the times I did, it didn't matter. Their writing flows together, entwines in such a way that having a book with two different first person POVs feels like it's come from one body, one mind, one soul. But it isn't.

I'm not entirely sure how my reaction to this book is based on the fact I got to spend a week with this amazing couple. I suspect quite a bit, to be honest, but yet, you can't argue the beauty of the whole book put together. I was reminded of Valente's work. I was reminded of Winterson's. And that's high praise. There's such a simple, deceptive beauty to this prose that you don't even realize that at the book's heart, it's horror, but horror in the most realistic ways imaginable. Key word: imagine.

My Rating

Must Have: close to "the keeper shelf," but suspect it might take a second reading to bump it up a notch. Like I said, it's very possible I'm simply biased, but I thoroughly enjoyed this read, this autobiography of the Tem's imagination, of their lives, of their children. It's a surreal piece, and one not easily forgotten.

This is a biography of imagination. Not that it is an imaginary biography...not at all. It is the biography of the imagination and how it has impacted their life. Once you adjust to the slightly surreal tone and temporal shifts, it is a joy to read.

Surreal to the point of near trippiness and yet very realistic, this fictionalized account of real events ("everything we're telling you here is true") grips the reader at a gut level. Any person who can even imagine having children will find this horrifying novel difficult to set aside. “The Man on the Ceiling” is the story of parents who having lost a child (exact reasons unknown) struggle to deal with the aftermath of emotions and delusions that flow from the sudden and horrible loss of a loved one. While, to some, the effects they use may seem overdone and overwrought, for anyone who has suffered a loss like this it will all seem oh so real. The pain from this sort of death can cause those left behind to not exactly lose touch with reality, but rather to find the “real” less tangible than desolation of their own emotional landscape… one becomes lost in an internal war zone of obvious and hidden dangers. For most people this “other” world can take a long time to (mostly) escape from, others may never even make the beginning steps to heal this tragedy. “The Man on the Ceiling” is labeled as a horror novel and it is in the sense that it attempts to capture one of life’s most horrifying events, the loss on a person one loves deeply.

The Man on the Ceiling is a sort of autobiography of Steve and Melanie Tem. They have adopted many children over the years and care very much for them. They try to create a space in the world for each of their children. This novel really blurs lines all over the place: fantasy and reality, the mundane and adventure, fantasy and horror genres. When I started this novel, I was expecting a fantastical story complete with monsters and fairies. I was surprised to learn that all of the fantasy and horror were wrapped up in the normal lives of a family. Everyone can relate to the struggles and triumphs of this family. Their horrors are our horrors. Their adventure is our adventure. I was genuinely surprised at how many fundamental truths were presented and developed. I would recommend this book to anyone.

A very unusual sort of book, this "fictional memoir" tells the story of Steve and Melanie, two writers who have adopted a number of children, one of whom died tragically. The stream of consciousness narrative drifts between the two writers, who muse upon death, the art of storytelling, and family relationships.

More than once the authors tell the reader that "everything we're telling you is true," which makes this book strangely compelling and unsettling. Although this is labeled as "horror fiction," the horror is rooted in real life and the pain of losing someone you love. The "man on the ceiling" of the title seems to be a sort of grim reaper, always present if not always seen. The writing is elegant and lyrical, creating a dream-like fluidity that feels natural and effortless. Readers expecting a traditionally structured novel will be frustrated, but if you're willing to go with it this is a wise, rewarding book.

One of the constant refrains in "The Man on the Ceiling" is that everything the authors are telling us is true. They repeat it again and again, almost talismanically. True, in this case, clearly does not mean "real" -- as the book describes, among other imaginary stories and events, a man who lives in the ceiling of Steve and Melanie Tem's house. True, in this case, means something more like "right" or "honest". Ironically, I think a "true" autobiography of these two people would have made for a more powerful and enthralling book. The authors are a couple that has adopted several troubled kids, including one who dies tragically at a very young age. There is no real plot or story here -- the book is more a series of stories, observations, vignettes, memories and fables -- and important details are glossed over or shrouded in imagination and fantasy, making the line between true-as-in-real versus true-as-in-right frustratingly blurry. There are certainly moments of beautiful language, and fabulous elements of joy and tragedy, but not enough to really carry this slightly indulgent book.

Not at all what I expected. I didn't find it worthy of being in the Horror section. I think it was more a strange memoir about their lives and raising adopted children.

This is my bogus review which has absolutely nothing to do with the content of this book. But, since I won an early review copy and have as yet to receive said copy I'm posting something so I can stay in the running for other advanced reader copies that may or may not ever arrive.