Dictionarily, the word prolixity means to write, or speak, at great or even excessive, length. Prolixity is probably not meant as a compliment, but as a lover of words, I empathize with the wordy. It is also the nom de Internet of long time Cannonballer and kiss book reading enabler, Mrs. Prolixity Julien. Mrs. Julien has previously reviewed Penny Reid’s Neanderthal Seeks Human as well as other books in the Knitting in the City series. When Mrs. Julien, among others, says she likes a book, I do make a note of it. She also actively encouraged me to start the Knitting in the City Series. So, the series starts off with some Prolixity attached to it.
I wasn’t very far into Neanderthal Seeks Human before I thought, “I see why Prolixity likes this author.” Penny Reid loves words. This is not to say that she uses too many of them. She does make good and appropriate use of her thesaurus. Janie, the female protagonist, babbles, makes up words, and creates collective nouns for groups. I love an author who uses language well to build their world and create its atmosphere. The first book is told entirely from Janie’s point of view, and Reid’s word choice creates the feeling of being in Janie’s head from the very beginning.
I lost it in the bathroom.
Sitting on the toilet, I started to panic when I noticed the graveyard of empty toilet paper rolls. The brown cylinders had ostensibly been placed vertically to form a half oval on top of the flat shiny surface of the stainless steel toilet paper holder. It was like some sort of miniature-recycled Stonehenge in the women’s bathroom, a monument to the bowel movements of days past.
Actually, it was sometime around 2:30 pm when my day exited the realm of country song bad and entered the neighboring territory of Aunt Ethel’s annual Christmas letter bad. Last year Aunt Ethel wrote with steady, stalwart sincerity of Uncle Joe’s gout and her one – no make that two – car accidents, the new sinkhole in their backyard, their impending eviction from the trailer park, and Cousin Serena’s divorce. To be fair, Cousin Serena got divorced every year, so that didn’t really count toward the calamitous computation of yearly catastrophes.
We know immediately that Janie is a rambler, an observer of details, makes connections between unrelated things, categorizes things, cares about accuracy, is in a crisis, and is funny. This is a great example of “show don’t tell.” We learn a lot of important stuff about Janie and none of it’s related to what she looks like or how other people perceive her. Like most of us, Janie is a lot more aware of her ticks, foibles, faults, and antisocial tendencies. As she and Quinn start their relationship, she is in a constant state of self-doubt, but in an adorable and fun way, rather than an annoying smack her in the head way.
Reid also does well with the female friendships. Janie has a great group of friends. The weakest part of the book, I thought, was Quinn. Quinn never feels like a real person to me, and I found, as I read Neanderthal Marries Human, that I don’t like him that much. I could have done without Neanderthal Marries Human altogether. I think that’s where Reid engaged in some unfortunate prolixity. I still liked Janie quite a lot, but there is a conversation in which she and Quinn make the rules of their marriage, which include things like, not hearing about menstruation or farting in front of each other. It’s a mutually agreed upon conversation, but it annoyed me and illuminated my dislike of Quinn and Janie and Quinn together. But I enjoyed Neanderthal Seeks Human, and recommend it. The plot is bonkers, but who really cares. Quinn isn’t my favorite, but he gives good sex and smolder. I also enjoyed the subsequent books in the series, Love Hacked and Beauty and the Mustache. I’m not sure I’m going to review them, but follow the links above to Mrs. Julien’s reviews and get your Prolixity on.
