Source of book: Audiobook from the library
This is definitely an odd book to kick off my 2025 reading with, but it unexpectedly came available on audiobook earlier than I thought. Our local library system doesn’t have it, and I was hesitant to buy it, but I was able to borrow the audiobook from the LA County library.
First, let me give a warning: if you have sensory issues, do not read this book. I don’t generally have problems, but this book is a sensory overload, and not in a pleasant way. Sound, smell, touch, vision - all of these are visceral, and generally not in a cozy way. Rather, there is a lot of, well, rot. Apples going from ripe to rotting, mold and fungus everywhere, and a lot of pee and menstruation. So if that bothers you, skip it.
That said, oh my goodness can the author (and the translator, Marjam Idriss) write descriptions. If you can handle the subject matter, this is fantastic writing that makes you hear and see and very much feel. I can’t think of many books that can do this quite this effectively.
The basic premise of the book is this. Norwegian biology student Jo comes to Australia for college. She struggles to find housing until she runs across Carral, who lives in a converted brewery. This odd place lacks full walls, so sounds travel everywhere. The place is damp and unfinished, and seems haunted in a weird way. But it is housing, and Carral seems nice enough, if a bit odd.
Later, Jo meets the neighbor, Pym, who both she and Carral have sex with eventually, after reading his poem-novel, which is kind of about the three of them. But eventually, Jo and Carral become sexually involved.
I can’t even describe the ending, which potentially changes everything that went before, but is so uncertain as to what is real and what is not that, well, who knows? This isn’t a bad thing, though. The entire novella is arguably metaphoric and phantasmic anyway.
One could read it as a coming-of-age novel, perhaps? A sexual awakening? As horror? As bizarre fantasy? Or perhaps just as an internal journey through the sensations of decay and fecundity?
The author is an artist in everything from visual arts to music, and her stuff is…weird.
I was reminded of a few other books, which have some similar motifs, although none of them are really close to this book in style or plot. Mexican Gothic has the mold and the melding. Earthlings has the kind of gross and disturbing use of bodies. The use of urine as a recurring device is a bit like another book in translation, Visitation.
One thing that I also want to mention is the title. In the original Norwegian, the title translates as “Pearl Brewery,” which is, in my opinion, a far inferior title. “Paradise Rot” captures the themes of the book so much better.
For example, there are references to Eden and The Fall throughout, and the ending, where Jo leaves the brewery, consciously parallels the eviction from Eden.
There is also this passage, in the middle of the book, which is fantastic and disturbing:
"I'll tell you the fairy tale of the apple. Eve ate the apple, and then Adam came and did so too. Afterward, this apple was forgotten, and it was assumed that it rolled away in the grass while Adam and Eve were chased out of the garden. But that's not true, because secretly the apple rolled in between Eve's legs, scratched open her flesh, and burrowed into her crotch. It stayed there with the bite marks facing out, and after a while, the fruit-flesh started to shrivel, and mold threads grew from the edges of the peel."
These ideas work their way through the book much like the mycelium of a fungus, another metaphor used often.
I’m not sure “enjoyed” is the operative word to describe my experience with this book, but I found it compelling in its own bizarre and gross way. Again, the writing is really, really good - things come alive…or maybe they come decayed? I can only say that, if you can tolerate gross stuff, you will find the language in this book powerful and evocative.
And maybe you can decide what the ending means, and if there is anything truly real in this book or not.
The audiobook was narrated by Brie Jackman, who I think captured the naivety and internal life of the narrator, Jo, quite well. She also kept a straight face (voice?) reading it, which is impressive. To deadpan all of the gross stuff takes talent.
