Madeleine Ryan - A room called Earth
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- Book:A room called Earth
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- Publisher:Penguin Publishing Group
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- Year:2020
- Rating:5 / 5
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Advance praise for A Room Called Earth
A resolute deep dive into an inner self, a transcendent character study, and a timely reminder that theres an entire universe inside of everyone we meet. You will be moved.
Matthew Quick, New York Times bestselling author of The Silver Linings Playbook
A Room Called Earth offers a strikingly unique look at intimacy, identity, and time itself. From now on I want every novel to be this fiercely authentic, this assured, this untethered from the status quo. Madeleine Ryan is a wholly original writer; this debut announces a tremendous talent.
Kimberly King Parsons, National Book Award nominated author of Black Light
In prose filled with humor and warm light, Madeleine Ryan unearths the bright, luminous soul of each animate and inanimate being she encounters. Instead, remarkably, it is the self shaped by and against social norms that is met as an other. The result is an intelligence that feels not only totally refreshing and original but wonderfully humane.
Meng Jin, author of Little Gods
I have never read anything like A Room Called Earth before, and Im sure I never will again. In this precious gemstone of a novel, Ryan communicates a lush, raw, addictive truth with her prosaic yet theatrical prose, her protagonist witnessing the world in a way that had me pausing for long deep breaths after most chapters. The world of this book is the world of a woman who knows herself because she has needed to, and a woman who many might recognize, despite her oneness. Reading Ryan is to be taught and to be refreshed, and I will return to her pages in the future, to remind me of the beauty there is in my own room called earth.
Laura McPhee-Browne, author of Cherry Beach
A daring, prismatic novel about seeing and being seen, and the hunger for universal connection. Madeleine Ryans clarity of vision imbues the ordinarya party, strangers, inner-city streetswith cosmic significance. I came out of A Room Called Earth with fresh eyes and a full heart.
Laura Elizabeth Woollett, author of Beautiful Revolutionary
Madeleine Ryans A Room Called Earth heralds the debut of a writer to whom it is worth attending. Flashes of insight, eruptions of startling descriptions, and an original style all add to the excitement of discovering Ryans fresh observations of the world around her protagonist. Worth reading slowly to savor this highly engaging perspective and this unique new voice.
Naomi Wolf, author of Outrages: Sex, Censorship, and the Criminalization of Love
An honest narration of human experience and how our whirling minds perceive the world. Sensual, raw, real, and down to earth.
Katie Hess, author of Flowerevolution
Vibrant and revealing. Ryan succeeds in capturing neurodiversity on the page.
Publishers Weekly
The narrators voice is astute, clear, and strong as the vodka she likes, as luminous as sparkling stars. Madeleine Ryan has created a marvelous woman and a joyous story.
Shelf Awareness
PENGUIN BOOKS
A ROOM CALLED EARTH
Madeleine Ryan is an Australian writer, director, and author. Her articles and essays have appeared in SBS, The Daily Telegraph, The Sydney Morning Herald, Vice, Bustle, Lenny Letter, and The New York Times, and she is currently working on the screen adaptation of A Room Called Earth. Madeleine lives in rural Victoria.
PENGUIN BOOKS
An imprint of Penguin Random House LLC
penguinrandomhouse.com
Copyright 2020 by Madeleine Ryan
Penguin supports copyright. Copyright fuels creativity, encourages diverse voices, promotes free speech, and creates a vibrant culture. Thank you for buying an authorized edition of this book and for complying with copyright laws by not reproducing, scanning, or distributing any part of it in any form without permission. You are supporting writers and allowing Penguin to continue to publish books for every reader.
ISBN 9780143135456 (paperback)
ISBN 9780525507123 (ebook)
Cover design and art by Stephanie Ross
pid_prh_5.5.0_c0_r0
for the hearts of our fathers
I decided to wear a kimono and high heels to the party because I wanted people to see me in a kimono and high heels at the party. I tried putting chopsticks from the kitchen drawer in my hair and it felt like it was overdoing things a bit, so I put them back. I even considered painting the chopsticks black because they were brown, and black would have suited my outfit better. Yet the fact that I considered painting them at all caused me to be embarrassed at myself, so I decided to ditch accessories that were at one time used to stuff pad Thai into someones face. Painted or not, you cant change the reality of what chopsticks are or the main way that theyve been used for, like, centuries. Eons, even. So let a chopstick be a chopstick, and my hair can be what it is, too.
Ive fantasized for days about wearing this kimono and these shoes, and tonight is the night. The shoes are high and patent and black and shiny, and the kimono is red and silky with sleeves like wings. I guess the sleeves are a part of a traditional style, or whatever. Its just that my only association with them is that theyre like wings. I dont know why theyre so wide, or if that has some kind of practical aspect to it, and, you know, who cares.
Ive put a tight black spandex skirt underneath for modesty. Well, its a half-hearted gesture in the direction of modesty. Im not wearing underwear of any kind because that would be ridiculous.
The people who are going to see this outfit and me in it are both known and unknown to me. I mean, Ive been invited to this party. Like, Im legitimately allowed to be there. Its just that my self-image is in no way going to be constrained by knowing too many people in attendance. I wont be readily identifiable to the majority of the crowd, so who and what I am can remain undefined, and expansive.
And, right now, from my perspective, the people who are going to be there are made up of Futuristic Shadow Beasts Without Faces that are deeply impressed by me. They make life worth living, because I can decide exactly who and what they are, from this place of having no actual idea. I can just imagine them, and dress for them, and have high expectations of them, and envisage the amazing connections that I might have with them. And I hope that all of the Futuristic Shadow Beasts Without Faces are currently giving themselves the same rapturous, pre-party experience that I am. Because even if we dont get a chance to meet, or to talk, we can remain in a state of wonderment together. My dream is to leave people wondering, and nothing more. Its safe, its sexy, and I want to live there forever.
Mystery is my favorite accessory.
As I get ready, I keep looking over my shoulder just in case someone walks into the room unannounced. My music is loud, and Im worried that someone will knock and I wont be made aware of their presence until its too late, and who knows what they will have witnessed or, worse, how theyll perceive what they have witnessed. I dont even want to think about it.
Its one thing to be humiliated for my own reasons and a whole other thing to be the catalyst for someone elses sense of humiliation. I really dont want to take on that responsibility. Ive always felt a strong inclination to smooth things over for the people around me, and now Ive become terrified of the prospect of having to do so at all. Im not really wired to care for other people unless they ask me directly because, in any given situation, Im either completely immersed in myself, or completely immersed in someone else. Theres no in-between.
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