I had to read And the Ass Saw the Angel because I'm a Nick Cave fangirl. I met a fellow obsessive Cave fan a couple of months ago, and in discussing various things, I had to admit I hadn't read either of Cave's novels. My excuse had always been that And the Ass is out-of-print, and Xenu-forbid I spend more than four dollars on a book. But, I shouldn't be a bad fangirl. So, I found a used copy online for ten bucks shipped—a miracle, as this wasn't the first time I was looking for a cheap copy—and finally read the damn thing. I love Cave because he crams his songs with figurative language, allusions, and philosophical queries ("if I have no free will, then how can I be morally culpable?"). I get not only the visceral ROCK AND ROLL! sensation from his music, but also the "I think I'm getting smarter" feeling.I'm having trouble objectively reviewing this book because a) I love the man so much b) While reading it, I heard his voice and c) it was the longest song he's every written, and I'm not sure he would put it on another B-Sides album. a.2) If I laud the book, is it because I'm blinded by adoration? Or will I give it a bad review just so I can prove I'm not that person? b.2) that says something about his voice, though. If this book didn't have his name anywhere on the cover and I did a blind read, I would say, "This reads like Nick Cave." c.2) The Bad Seed's B-Sides and Rarities has many covers, alternate takes, and extended cuts. A few songs should've been included on albums, not just the compilation. If And the Ass were a song, would it be strong enough for B-Sides? The novel has similar character archetypes, motifs and situations as his songs, so it fits right in. But is it too long and ambitious? Yeah, I don't know. Anyway, Cave is an Australian, but he always wanted to be an American cowboy. That's good for us, because And the Ass is Southern Gothic in the vein of Flannery O'Connor.And the Ass is about a downtrodden hillperson named Euchrid Eucrow. Not only was he born into abject poverty, but he's mute and has an abusive alcoholic mother and a father who cruelly traps animals for entertainment. He lives in Ukulore Valley, which is home to sugar-cane farmers and religious fanatics, none of whom are kind to him. Euchrid realizes he was born into a bad situation, but really tries to make the best of it. He picks his scabs, builds a secret enclave in the marshland, befriends a whore, kills some people, and talks to God. Some of these things will turn you off the character, as might his spying on a little girl and his later raping and attempted killing of her. And no, I'm not giving anything away. You'll see this stuff coming (it's like mythology, man). Anyway, the reader remains sympathetic to Euchrid, even though he's a bastard. He is just such a poor son-of-a-bitch, you can't turn your back on him. You want someone to love him: finally, someone does, because she thinks he's Jesus.Ok, so that "Yeah, I don't know," I gave earlier in this review? I'm now changing my answer to "No, it is not too long and ambititous." The above paragraph made me realize this is a pretty kick-ass story, full of all things grotesque. Hey—that's why I like Cave as a songwriter so much!Also, I really like that I am so damned sympathetic to Euchrid, even though he's a monster. You know what? It's the same feeling one gets when reading Frankenstein. Frankenstein's monster was an abomination only because someone created him. It's the same thing with Euchrid. Neither he nor the monster asked to be born into a world where no one would love them. They didn't ask to be spit on, beat constantly, and ignored. They endlessly searched for love and acceptance, but had so much stacked against them it was freakin' impossible to find.You know what? I'm not analyzing any more. There is so much in this novel to talk about (most obviously its Biblical allusions, its Gothicness, its plot—rife with appalling moments—and its epicness) that I'm calling it a day here. The most powerful reaction I had was the sympathy I felt for Euchrid (which is what I liked most about Frankenstein). If we are responsible for creating a monster, how much responsibility can said monster take for his actions?KKNext up: The Walking Dead (compendium one).
Nick Cave should stick with his music. He is a more than capable writer, but this book was uninteresting for the most part. I had qualms with a lot of it.My biggest problem is the vocabulary of the main character, Euchrid. Euchrid is a mute and as far as I know never went to school and his parents certainly didn't teach him anything. His mother being a massive drunk and his father pays more attention to the traps he sets and the animals he maims than to Euchrid. Yet, his vocabulary exceeds that of myself or any of my friends and most of us have advanced degrees.The novel did get a little interesting when a prostitute named Cosey Mo was introduced. However, her presence was short lived. ****Spoiler Alert for the rest of the review**** She is beaten to death by the townsfolk for being a harlot and outing the evangelical women's husbands as customers. After taking the beating, she is brought to the hospital to be saved. She is not. But it turns out that she was pregnant and the baby lives. Either I checked out while reading or Cave just decided that it wasn't worth mentioning that Cosey Mo was pregnant while being pummeled to death by her clientele. Even crazier than that, apparently the women responsible for the death of the whore decide that the child needs a good home and should be watched after. A character only briefly mentioned previously becomes the father of the orphaned girl and absolutely loves her and names her Beth.Beth is picked on as a child and ends up getting home schooled by some creepy guy. She is forced to attend, I suppose, Bible study classes with the old women. When she is some age, I'm guessing a teenager, the women bring in a nurse to make sure that Beth is still a virgin. She is supposed to be godly, despite being ripped out of the loins of a prostitute.So Euchrid develops a fascination with Beth as he did with her mother. He watches her like he watches all of the townsfolk. A pastime that lead him to several whuppings. As a last stand against the townsfolk that mistreated him, he decides to take advantage of Beth's belief that he is God, by having sex with her. Then a few weeks (maybe) later, Euchrid kills Beth as further revenge for the abuse he has received. The people hunt down Euchrid and his death is delivered. Then guess what, it turns out Beth was pregnant and the baby lives. The same four women that started the whole mess get to do the same thing all over again. Yay!I'm getting angry again just writing this review. The book blows, but Cave's writing doesn't necessarily suck. His story telling does, but he can write.One last thing. The novel is split up into 3 books. The first book has chapters that are fairly well spaced apart in regard to amount of pages. The second book has chapters that are 10 pages, 3, 5, 1, and just a paragraph. The third book has no chapters. This is a tremendous pet peeve of mine. I hate authors that do this.This review is almost as bad as the book, but it is considerably shorter.
Do You like book And The Ass Saw The Angel (2003)?
My 2-star thoughts on this book are specific to this "new edition" Penguin recently released, which is a heavily edited version of the original book as published in mass-market paperback editions and trade editions over the years. If you can get any other edition, I think it's a five-star book. This new version attempts to tighten up the book by cutting out a lot of descriptive prose and focusing on the plot. I would argue that this is a tragic mistake in this case--this book is as much a story as it is a method for evoking a specific kind of monotone brown atmosphere, perfect for reading on a rainy weekend. Made to pass itself as a faster, more muscular text, it loses a lot of its power for me.So if you see this version, which didn't photograph well (it has gold foil text/art over a black background), go ahead and judge it by its cover and keep looking for an older edition, like the 2.13.61 w/a sunset, or the old mass market paperback with a country scene on the cover.
—Scott
This is one of my favorite novels. I have to recommend it with a string of caveats, however. The writing is gloriously, indulgently, and shamelessly overwrought. If you go in for clean, crisp prose, you'll probably hate this. It is also an incredibly grim book, but with a wicked and sometimes viciously dark sense of humor throughout (this is Nick Cave, after all).The novel's protagonist is a character named Euchrid Euchrow, a physically deformed and mentally deranged mute living in the fictional backwoods town of Ukulore. He struggles to find some solace and acceptance in the small town, which is mostly within the grip of the "Ukulite" religious sect--similar to the American evangelist cults from which spring handling of snakes and laying on of hands.The outlook is grim and harsh, but it's an exquisite sort of pain. I think I read this book cover to cover in a day, as I recall, but that was about eight years ago. I will try to find time to read it again, soon.Anyway, there you go. The novel is insane, grim, and overwrought. If that sounds like your cup of tea, and you don't mind a slightly self-indulgent author, do read this.
—V.
I would have to agree with a fellow reviewer of And the Ass Saw the Angel by saying that this novel is very much what would happen if William Faulkner wrote One Hundred Years of Solitude. It is a meditation not only on isolation, but exclusion. Nick Cave's grandiloquent debut novel plays upon the notions of madness and zealotry: their intersexions and divergences. It's hard to call this dark, though it certainly plumbs darkness. As the book progressed, I notived many common themes with his songs, notably 'Tupelo', 'Black Crow King', and much of his musical influences (as tributed on Kicking Against the Pricks). If you enjoy the '80s-era Bad Seeds, the novel will feel like a culmination of sorts. A final tribute to World War-era Southern culture in the form of a Southern Gothic novel.
—Kaz
