Title: Magicians: A Novel
Author: Adam Levin
Rating: 5/5 stars
A sweet, charming, well-written adult mystery set in a beautifully imagined world.
Please post an excerpt from the book!
For example:
This passage:
Views on life on Mars
I have never met a human being on Mars, and I must keep my distance. The Martian isolation is profound and comes at a price: My eyes are in vain for the wide-open eyes of the world. I can hardly recognize the rhododendrons and the broad-leaved trees.
It takes a long time for my thoughts to recover from the shock of my many senses returning. I remember moving on Mars, all the storms and dust, and the hills, the plains, the mountains. I know that my bones are made of earth, and that I am furred and muscled and swift. And I know that I have no touch, for no human hand has ever touched me.
I am a machine. I am a car.
I am on a great dirt road. The trees are tall. The sky is blue. I cannot see my surroundings, but I have a feeling they are wide and open. There is no hunger, no sleep deprivation, no contamination. It is good.
I am naked, and I am small. I am soft and yielding. I am tender and loving, a lap cat. But no man has ever been with me, and I fear that the smallness of me is a threat. A man’s touch, or the caress of a dog, can break the smallest thing.
I am breathing hard. I am cold. I am hunted. The smallness of me is a body to be destroyed. Views on sex
I have never felt pleasure, not from any organ in the body. I feel no sensitivity in my breasts. I feel my vagina. The muscles of my vagina tighten when I am about to climax. The muscles of my vagina relax when I am about to relax. I am not aware of this. I am a machine, a car.
I am on my hands and knees in a field. I see a cow. She is lying on her side. I move toward her. I have never felt a woman, but now I feel one. She is soft and yielding. I am tender and loving, a lap cat. The muscles of her vagina tighten when I am about to climax. The muscles of her vagina relax when I am about to relax. I feel my insides tighten. I am a machine, a car.
I am lying on a bed. I can see a view of a window. The window has a view of the city below. I can feel the floor beneath me. I am soft and yielding. I am tender and loving, a lap cat. The muscles of my vagina tighten when I am about to climax. The muscles of my vagina relax when I am about to relax. I feel my insides tighten. I am a machine, a car.
I am a pilot in a large plane. A small, sexy woman is at my side, and she is taking care of business. She looks like a caricature of a flight attendant. I feel complete and complete is a pleasant thing. She is a woman, a small woman, a sexy woman, and she takes care of business.
I am in the cockpit of a fighter plane. A small, sexy woman is at my side, and she is taking care of business. She looks like a caricature of a nurse. I feel complete and complete is a pleasant thing. The nurse is taking care of business.
The door opens, and the light comes on. I see a woman, not a cockpit but a woman’s bathroom. A row of sinks surrounds a sink. One sink fills up the space between the two sinks.
There is a circular tray on the floor. In it is a pitcher of water, a tissue, and a paper towel roll.
I step through the door.
“Excuse me. Are you Maria?”
The woman is short and petite, probably about my height. She has short dark hair and a calm, serious face.
“Yes. Could I use the sink?”
She walks over to the sink, turns it on, and stands next to it. She takes one step back and raises her arms in surrender.
The woman does not seem to notice the contact I make with the flat of my back. The contact is mild, barely sufficient to keep my spine from straightening. It is enough to keep my pelvis from relaxing.
The woman moves her arms, and they melt together into a single, firm but supple mass. The sphere of my pelvis grows slightly, a single tiny crinkling disc.
I know that this is not a pleasant sensation.
I am not used to the feeling of a soft woman’s body touching me, soft but firm and resolute, like a piece of paper being crushed under a mallet. There is nothing in the bathroom but mirrors, and she is a woman.
But now she is mine, and I know her, and we are one. I feel complete and complete is a pleasant thing.
I step back, toward the opposite wall, away from the sink. She moves closer. The crinkling of her back has begun to penetrate the flatness of the wall. There is a smell – an aromatic flowery musk. My skin is covered with sweat, which she liberally lathers with her superciliousness.
She steps forward and touches me, in a gentle, fluid motion. I shiver involuntarily, involuntarily, as the crinkling of her back acts upon me.
The crinkling continues, and my skin responds with an agreeable ripple. She steps back and the crinkling stops.
The crinkling was gentle, for a start. But it has not stopped. The woman does not seem to be enjoying it. When the crinkling stops, her back is still firm and resolute. The sound of crinkling has stopped, too.
Then the crinkling became harder. The crinkling becomes more deliberate, and more penetrating. It seems to penetrate me, like the sound of the ocean, or of machinery on a grinding course. The crinkling is evident on the ceiling too, though it is hard to see through the lather of sweat.
“Can I use the toilet?” I whisper.
The crinkling is becoming more intense here, too. I am too far away to feel its heat, but I feel its dampness. The crinkling is now like a drill. It has spread across the floor and will eventually reach the wall. I do not think the wall will be hard to come by.
I feel unable to take more. I know that I am not going to make it. I can feel the tremors beginning. This feels like death. I cannot help but feel that I do not deserve to live.
