The Gargoyle | 
 enlarge | Author: Andrew Davidson
Creator: Lincoln Hoppe
Publisher: Random House Audio
Category: Book
List Price: $49.95
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Avg. Customer Rating:  143 reviews
Sales Rank: 205827
Format: Audiobook, Unabridged
Media: Audio CD
Edition: Unabridged
Number Of Items: 16
Shipping Weight (lbs): 0.9
Dimensions (in): 6 x 5.1 x 1.7
ISBN: 0739328956
Dewey Decimal Number: 813.6
EAN: 9780739328958
ASIN: 0739328956
Publication Date: August 5, 2008
Availability: Usually ships in 1-2 business days
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Product Description
An extraordinary debut novel of love that survives the fires of hell and transcends the boundaries of time.
The narrator of The Gargoyle is a very contemporary cynic, physically beautiful and sexually adept, who dwells in the moral vacuum that is modern life. As the book opens, he is driving along a dark road when he is distracted by what seems to be a flight of arrows. He crashes into a ravine and suffers horrible burns over much of his body. As he recovers in a burn ward, undergoing the tortures of the damned, he awaits the day when he can leave the hospital and commit carefully planned suicide?for he is now a monster in appearance as well as in soul.
A beautiful and compelling, but clearly unhinged, sculptress of gargoyles by the name of Marianne Engel appears at the foot of his bed and insists that they were once lovers in medieval Germany. In her telling, he was a badly injured mercenary and she was a nun and scribe in the famed monastery of Engelthal who nursed him back to health. As she spins their tale in Scheherazade fashion and relates equally mesmerizing stories of deathless love in Japan, Iceland, Italy, and England, he finds himself drawn back to life?and, finally, in love. He is released into Marianne's care and takes up residence in her huge stone house. But all is not well. For one thing, the pull of his past sins becomes ever more powerful as the morphine he is prescribed becomes ever more addictive. For another, Marianne receives word from God that she has only twenty-seven sculptures left to complete?and her time on earth will be finished.
Already an international literary sensation, The Gargoyle is an Inferno for our time. It will have you believing in the impossible.
Andrew Davidson Talks About Becoming a Writer
 Some of what follows is true.
When I was about seven, I had a turtle named Stripe. I decided, because I liked my turtle and Jacques Cousteau, that I wanted to be a marine biologist. This ambition lasted until I was ten years old, when I spent a year gazing into the abyss, hoping that the abyss would not gaze back at me. At eleven, I longed for a master to teach me the secrets of the ninja, but the teacher did not appear; this probably means that as a student I was not ready. As I entered my teens, I set my heart upon becoming a professional hockey player. On weekend nights, the final game at the local arena ended around 10 p.m. but the icemaker was unable to leave the building until about midnight, as he had to clean the dressing rooms and do maintenance. I bribed him with presents of Aqua Velva aftershave to let me play alone on the rink until he headed home. Despite my devotion, I never developed the skills to make it off the small-town rink and into the big leagues. My dream shattered, at sixteen I started to spend more time writing. I began by changing the lyrics to Doors songs. I rewrote "Break On Through" so that it became "Live to Die": "Soldier in the forest / dodging bullets thick / only took one / to make him cry / All of us just live to die." Clearly, writing was my future.
I soon realized that, since I still had no authorial voice of my own, I should at least imitate better poets than Jim Morrison. Soon I was word-raping Leonard Cohen, e.e. cummings, Sylvia Plath, William Blake, and John Milton. After writing much abusively derivative poetry, I moved onto stage plays written in a mockery of the style of Tennessee Williams, which also didn’t work out so well. Next, I tried to put baby in a corner, until it was explained to me that nobody puts baby in a corner. Following this, I produced short stories that would have been much better if they were much shorter. Then, screenplays that even Alan Smithee wouldn’t direct.
Somewhere along the way, I managed to get a degree in English Literature; this was strange, as I thought I was studying cardiology. Undaunted, off to Vancouver Film School I went, but naturally not to study film. Instead, I took the new media course, because there was this thing called the internet that was just taking off. I also spent a fair amount of time using digital editing software for video and audio. An example project: I slowed down the final movement to Beethoven’s Ninth Symphony, looped it backwards, put in a heavy drumbeat, and end up with a funeral dirge. "Ode to Joy"? I think not. "Ode to Bleakness" is more like it; I was very deep, and showed it by destroying joy.
After this course finished, I had tens of thousands of dollars of student debt, and could no longer avoid getting a job. I soon discovered, in no uncertain terms, that work is no fun. I stuck it out for as long as I could, which was way less than a lifetime. As my thirtieth birthday approached, I became incredibly aware that I had never lived abroad, so I moved to Japan.
I had no idea if I would like Japan, but I vowed to stick it out for a year. I did, and then another year, and another, and another, and another. In the beginning, I worked as a kind of substitute teacher of English, covering stints in classrooms that needed a temporary instructor. I lived in fifteen different cities during my first two years, traveling from the northern island of Hokkaido all the way down to the southern island of Okinawa. It was a great introduction to the country, but eventually the constant relocation became too much. I got a job in a Tokyo office, writing English lessons for Japanese learners on the internet. I lived in the big city for three years, and loved it: hooray for sushi, hooray for sumo, and hooray for cartoon mascots.
While in Japan, I entertained myself by writing and, having already mangled poetry, short stories, stage plays and screenplays, I thought it was time to give a novel a shot. A strange thing happened: I found that I don’t write like other people when it comes to novels?or at least, none of which I know. It’s true that I’ve read comparisons of my novel to a number of other books?The Name of the Rose, The English Patient, The Shadow of the Wind?but I haven’t read any of them. (To my great shame, really, and I suppose I should. Since they are my supposed influences, I should become familiar with them. I’ll appear more intelligent in interviews.)
I liked writing The Gargoyle, and I think I’ll write another novel. If I can, I’ll make up new characters and a new plot. That’s my plan.
Product Description
An extraordinary debut novel of love that survives the fires of hell and transcends the boundaries of time
The narrator of The Gargoyle is a very contemporary cynic, physically beautiful and sexually adept, who dwells in the moral vacuum that is modern life. As the book opens, he is driving along a dark road when he is distracted by what seems to be a flight of arrows. He crashes into a ravine and suffers horrible burns over much of his body. As he recovers in a burn ward, undergoing the tortures of the damned, he awaits the day when he can leave the hospital and commit carefully planned suicide—for he is now a monster in appearance as well as in soul.
A beautiful and compelling, but clearly unhinged, sculptress of gargoyles by the name of Marianne Engel appears at the foot of his bed and insists that they were once lovers in medieval Germany. In her telling, he was a badly injured mercenary and she was a nun and scribe in the famed monastery of Engelthal who nursed him back to health. As she spins their tale in Scheherazade fashion and relates equally mesmerizing stories of deathless love in Japan, Iceland, Italy, and England, he finds himself drawn back to life—and, finally, in love. He is released into Marianne's care and takes up residence in her huge stone house. But all is not well. For one thing, the pull of his past sins becomes ever more powerful as the morphine he is prescribed becomes ever more addictive. For another, Marianne receives word from God that she has only twenty-seven sculptures left to complete—and her time on earth will be finished.
Already an international literary sensation, the Gargoyle is an Inferno for our time. It will have you believing in the impossible.
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| Customer Reviews: Read 138 more reviews...
 Great read, had me hooked from the first chapter November 13, 2008
This book was one of the best books that I have read this year. I really enjoyed the story line. In the begining I was intrigued by the relationship between the two but it all came together in the end.
Definetly some grusome parts but a must read for most.
Dear Ashley...... November 9, 2008
0 out of 1 found this review helpful
My review is written for all to see, but is especially written to Ashley Sheridan.
Dear Ashley,
You did not lure me into reading this book. You did not trick me either. But you demanded it of me, and I did read it.
Now. This is the hard part. I am not sure that I can honestly say that it is a good book, nor can I say that it is one of the best I have ever read, because, as so many people, I "just don't get it." I wondered, as I often have been asked, if when I am dreaming , is that really real life and when I am in what I think is reality, am I dreaming? This book reminds me a little bit of a modern Dickens' "A Christmas Carol." I thought that the story in the present was wonderful and learned to like the narrator and Marianne. But the stories that Marianne told to the narrator, I had a rather tough time getting through. But I have you, and only you, to thank as I have spent the last 10 days slowly plodding along, because you demanded it. My wife has me well trained. I imagine that the more I think about it, the more I will realize that it is a great love story, told so terribly twisted, that one has to have the time to sort it out and stomach what has been read. But again I thank you for your scolding and high demands. If ya have anymore books to tell me that I have to read, please let me know. Think I will go and read a bit lighter book now. Confused, amazed, happy, baffled, but glad I followed your explicit directions.
Sincerely,
Bill
 Some Marvellous Writing, Some Terrible Writing November 3, 2008
The historical romance at the heart of this novel is absolutely enthralling and brilliantly executed. But at the same time, this story is interwoven with what might be called a "frame narration" set in modern times that works far less well. The extreme tension and excitement of the historical narrative, set in medieval times, is not matched by the events that happen in modern times, and in the modern sections, the writing lags and is even trite or sloppy in places. For this novel to be completely successful, the modern day characters should be caught up in an external conflict as compelling as the one in the historical romance. But instead, the modern story line is a little slow, and there are repeated references to the narrator being stalked by what he calls a "bitch snake" in his spine, something like the proverbial monkey on an addict's back, which he quells by a morphine addiction. This is the least convincing aspect of the whole book; the conflict simply does not persuade and the writing in these sections seems trite, even ridiculous. Only when Davidson turns to his medieval story lines and enters the genre of fantasy and historical romance does his writing really become exceptional. The poor sections are worth enduring for the sake of the brilliant vision at the heart of this highly original story.
Fun story that keeps you on your toes November 2, 2008
This book switches from past to present beautifully. You want to know more about the mysterious Marianne, as she grips you with her words and actions. it was a great read, and leaves you wanting more.
On Beauty, Hell, and Healing in Andrew Davidson's "The Gargoyle" October 27, 2008
1 out of 1 found this review helpful
Andrew Davidson's THE GARGOYLE continues to win acclaim for a number of reasons: one is the author's insightful blend of world cultures to create a single tapestry of world-class literature. Another is his seemingly seamless fusion of classic genres such as Gothic, erotica, and horror to create something new beneath the literary sun. And a third is his invention of two of the most compelling characters in modern literature.
The role played by the defining power of character throughout The Gargoyle becomes evident in its first horrific opening pages as our nameless anti-hero drinks and drives his way to a life-altering crash. The detailed account of the inferno that engulfs and permanently disfigures him is as lucidly terrifying as it is mesmerizingly precise. It's not the kind of thing that most people survive but this man does, albeit with severe anatomical damage and loss: "I could hear the bubbling of my skin as the flames kissed it." In fact, as a man and former porn star, he suffers the loss of the one appendage with which he had earned his living.
During the course of his hospital recovery, the narrator battles thoughts of suicide, a growing addiction to morphine, and the excruciating pain of cultivating the growth of brand new skin. Enter Marianne Engel--"She appeared in the burn ward door dressed in a light green hospital gown, with those unsolvable eyes and that riotously entangled hair"--a former psychiatric patient and artist famed for sculpting gargoyles. She is convinced that she and the once-upon-a-time porn star have shared at least one major previous lifetime together when she was a German nun and he was a mercenary soldier. Even more odd, however, is Marianne's claim to have never died at all while waiting some seven centuries to reconnect with her once-beloved. She is comfortable enough with this belief that she strips naked in her new/old friend's hospital room to reveal a body covered with a luxury of tattoos: a beaded rosary and cross, a snake coiling up her leg to her sex, a Sacred Heart on her left breast, a pair of angel wings upon her back, and more.
Whereas we might expect the irony to be painful, it is instead profoundly daring. Engel stands before her friend painted with beautiful symbols while the man once accustomed to being paid for his beauty is now something more akin to her gargoyle sculptures. To a degree, it would seem that his extreme disfigurements make him into the "Gargoyle" of the book's title. But herein may lie a central aspect of author Davidson's literary art. Is his anti-hero a gargoyle now because of how he looks, or was he in fact more of a gargoyle because of the cynicism and self-absorption that dominated his personality before his life-transforming accident? And does the ensuing journey through his personal hell to emotional and spiritual recovery make actually make him more beautiful than he ever was in the past?
Marianne seems at first to be a hyper eccentric teller of tales whose stories simultaneously puzzle, captivate, and motivate her friend. It turns out, however, that these stories--in such diverse settings as France, Japan, Germany, and Iceland--have a much greater function than simply passing the time while recuperating. Davidson's skill at evoking the passions and dilemmas of characters in different cultures and historical eras is truly admirable. Likewise, his Dickensian talent for the creation of a cast of supporting characters who, against the odds, lend credible depth, substance, and color to the narrator's and Marianne's fantastic story.
Maniacal or not (or more precisely, "schizophrenic or not," as our narrator suspects) Marianne becomes much like the angel indicated by the tattooed wings on her back as she moves our narrator into her home. There, she alternately nurses, tells one amazing story after another, and works herself into frenzied bloody exhaustion to complete a final series of gargoyle sculptures, with the very last being of you-know-who. As one grows weaker and the other grows stronger, their original roles reverse and readers find themselves rethinking the plausibility of Marianne's extraordinary claims.
Interwoven masterfully throughout The Gargoyle are deeply embedded allusions to Dante Alighieri's Inferno that not only tell the history of the book itself, but that in some ways re-write the masterpiece and present it in modern form as The Gargoyle. To fully understand such a notion, one has to read and actually experience Davidson's triumphant first novel. A number of readers have suggested that taking on The Inferno (for those of us who did not get to it in high school or college) either after or before reading The Gargoyle, doubly enhances the pleasure of delving into this exceptional work of new millennium fiction.
by Author-Poet Aberjhani
author of The American Poet Who Went Home Again
and Christmas When Music Almost Killed the World
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