Review: The Gospel of Loki by Joanne M. Harris

This particular book was somewhat difficult to review, but since it was very kindly requested of me, I promised to write something. :)

It’s no surprise that I loved Joanne Harris’ “Chocolat”, and I’ll have to say I’ve enjoyed all the other books by her that I’ve read. Since my interests include Viking Age and, to some extent, Norse mythology, I was very keen to read Harris’ “The Gospel of Loki”.

I gather there’s been some controversy over how Loki has been portrayed here and whether the tale is faithful to the known sources of Norse mythology. Frankly, I didn’t care. So shoot me. This is a retelling, and told from one person’s (I mean god’s) point of view, and thus I would expect it to differ from the known versions. And, like any other myth/holy book/gospel... or, well, with any book at all... you can interpret it in countless different ways. So I’m not going to go into that.

The book is best characterised as a modern re-imagining of (some of) the Norse myths – the key word being modern. That goes for the style and the language in particular. This seemed rather odd at first, but then, the narrator is Loki, the trickster god (need I go into the reliable/unreliable narrator here? I didn’t think so) and he’s obviously managed to keep up with the way language has evolved rather than remaining stuck in archaic vernacular. The use of modern expressions and clever word play makes the book a light and humorous read and gives Loki a witty, snarky voice. Your Humble Narr... erm, reviewer found his repetitive use of certain expressions a little tiresome – but then, we all have our idiosyncratic expressions, so perhaps that just makes him more human (is he supposed to be that, though?)

A glance at reviews tells me that readers’ perceptions of Loki differ wildly. He’s seen as a demon, as a whiny adolescent, a bad boy, a rebel and whatnot. I saw him (or rather, he made me see himself) as an underdog, a misunderstood scapegoat whose malice (partly anyway) sprang from being treated unjustly. Interesting. I bet this is all Loki’s plan: he uses his story and his silver tongue to seduce us, make us take his side... and he is truly a shape shifter, a master of disguise; people who have read his story can’t even agree on who he is or what he is (his True Aspect). For a named thing is a tamed thing...

For one thing, this was certainly not a boring read (I didn’t quite laugh aloud but I did smile on several occasions) and I suspect even readers not into Norse mythology would find this entertaining. Not to mention all those Loki fans. ;) I could have asked for a little more depth, a little more drama and detail, but that might not have suited the fast-paced story or the chatty, wry voice of Loki.

At the beginning of each chapter, there is a short quote from “Lokabrenna”. Many of these start with “Never trust...” and once you’ve finished the book, you’ve learned your lesson: never trust anyone. And Loki is the trickster, remember? Never trust anyone, but especially... never trust Loki!

That is what made writing this review so hard: every time I thought of something to criticise, it somehow turned out to be something that was probably Loki’s plan all along (which, considering his fame as a cunning trickster, is just brilliant). For example: Loki himself is an interesting character; the rest of the cast, however, remain rather flat or appear to be little else but brainless brutes. Then again, this is Loki’s story, perhaps that is how he sees the other gods. Wait... this is Loki’s story! Perhaps that is how he wants us to see the other gods! That trickster...

Well, there is one thing where I trust Loki completely, and that is when he says: “Most problems can be solved through cake”. (Or chocolate, obviously. ;) )

Review: Chocolat by Joanne Harris

“Chocolat” sounds like the perfect book for a chocoholic like myself, and I was thrilled to find a copy in our local library (their collection of English books is small but somewhat eccentric; you never know what you're going to find. That's why I love going there - it's an adventure!). I saw the film based on the book some years ago, and remember it being a lovely feel-good movie that makes you want to try your hand in the art of chocolate making. But even though I was familiar with the story, I still wanted to read the book.

Vianne Rocher, a vagabond chocolatier, and her daughter settle in a small French town. As outsiders, they encounter prejudice and suspicion – but who could resist chocolate? With a bit of magic and lots of joie de vivre, lives are about to change...

The story has two narrators: Vianne with her sensuality and lust for life and the local priest, who sees chocolate (and indeed any and all enjoyment and indulgence) as something sinful. One of the novel's themes could be said to be Christianity vs paganism, but that is not at all everything this book is about. Prejudice/tolerance and belonging/rootlesness are other prevalent themes, as is finding courage to live (and, perhaps, to die) on your own terms.

The descriptions are beautiful and sensual (yes, you will crave pralines and truffles and chocolate cake and chocolate almonds and pain au chocolat and mocha with kahlua... and dozens of other mouth-watering treats). I especially loved the parts where chocolate, “the food of the gods - - - the bitter elixir of life” was described, and where cooking acquired an air of mysticism or a kind of alchemy:

“There is a kind of sorcery in all cooking: in the choosing of ingredients, the process of mixing, grating, melting, infusing and flavouring, the recipes taken from ancient books, the traditional utensils – the pestle and mortar with which my mother made her incense turned to more homely purpose, the spices and aromatics giving up their subtleties to a baser, more sensual magic. And it is partly the transience of it that delights me; so much loving preparation, so much art and experience put into a pleasure which can last only a moment, and which only a few will ever fully appreciate.”

(Sensual magic! I will remember that the next time cooking feels like a chore.) 

The novel has more depth than the film and is also more melancholy. The way that the characters are haunted by their past becomes more poignant, and the themes of love and loss, of having to give up something precious, are central. At the same time, though, it is a celebration of fleeting moments and reminds the reader of how important it is to enjoy those moments and life's little pleasures.

If I had to offer criticism, I'd say that the priest's narrative was somewhat repetetive (but then, I suspect that was on purpose: to underline his obsessive-compulsive thoughts) and, although the characters were interesting and complex, I never felt as close to any of them as I would have wished. Even so, "Chocolat" ranks as the best book I've read this year so far (and that makes me very happy: last year wasn't very good, book-wise - perhaps this one will be better!).

Like a luxury chocolate praline, this novel is sweet, delicious and satisfying – but also complex with some deeper, darker notes. It left me wanting more.