Every once in a while, you come across a book that makes you uncomfortable by its sheer unfamiliarity. I have been staring at the screen for the last fifteen minutes trying to find words to describe my reaction to the national-award nominated novel ‘My Dreams Out In the Street.
What does that mean? Did I like it, hate it or just didn’t get it. The dilemma indicates it was worth my time, but I will hold off putting it on must-read lists.
So, what’s it about?
Rita Jackson is a 23-year-old addict. She is addicted to drugs, alcohol, and smoking. She is homeless, married but does not know where her husband is. She freelances as a prostitute when she is penniless. And she has seen a man disposing of a dead body, someone he might have killed. And he knows that she has seen him.
A hundred pages in and I am already gasping for air with the hopelessness of it all.
Does it get any better or happier? Not really.
The closest thing to hope is Gary Shepherd. He is a private investigator, who works in the hell holes of San Francisco trying to find justice for people just like Rita. As he walks into a chapter, you breathe a sigh of relief.
He is instantly drawn to her and provides some emotional and financial support to this deeply disturbed yet earnest woman. Once he discovers that Rita has witnessed the very murder he is investigating, he promises to protect her. Even if it means sleeping with her and cheating on his wife. A modern, 21st-century fairy godmother if you will!!
But there is redemption for him and for her. Nothing dramatic. Maybe because this isn’t a fairy tale.
Final Thoughts on My Dreams Out In The Street
Reading fiction is an opportunity to feel unfamiliar. Travel to places unseen meet people unknown, and live another life. So relatability is not high on my list when reading fiction.
However, that was my biggest challenge, when reading My Dreams…
Even when I tried to push my boundaries, tried to imagine Rita’s world I couldn’t connect. And it was so hopeless – constantly. For instance, Rita has vodka for breakfast, daily. Then for lunch and then for dinner. Rita lost all her belongings once, twice, and then again.
It was exhausting and eye-opening. It’s fiction for sure, but art imitates life and somewhere out there this is real for someone.
“My Dreams out..” literally pulls you by your collar into Rita’s messy world. There were moments when I had to put the book away and walk around the house to steady myself as waves of nausea hit me. The reaction was this visceral.
The writing is choppy, very new age. Sentences in your face. There is no hiding in decorative literary moldings. As I read I felt I was breathing the air of those god-forsaken alleys of San Francisco and not enjoying it.
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Nicely written review. Sadly though it’s about a book you did not like much.
**There were moments when I had to put the book away, walk around the house to steady myself as waves of nausea hit me. **
have you read “Lolita”? I felt the same about that book. never did complete it….
btw nice review, echo Kapil’s thoughts on this
Kapil, Seeta – Thanks for stopping by . Sometimes I believe we just need to read these books to step out of our comfort zone ..
Well you certainly gave me a book that made me step out of my comfort zone and I’ll never forget that – Sybil 🙂 It made me experience the same state that you just indicated here.
Hmmm…reading this book reminds me of a long gone book that I read about a similar character who drives herself to a state of drugs, alcohol and prostitution. Its really scarry!
Zoya – No I randomly dont pick up books with these themes. I have new reading strategy..I am picking books in the library in an alphabetical manner ..thats how I picked this one up.