LOST MEMORY OF SKIN

“Lost Memory of Skin” by Russell Banks is the type of novel I’d like to write, but only darker, without hitting the reader over the head with its message.

 The Writer in the novel (not to be confused with the actual writer) summarizes: Who’d want to read it? Kiddie porn and child molesters, pedophiles and suicidal college professors? Jesus (p.380). He goes on to say he’s not a novelist trying to depress people, something I’ve been accused of with my “slightly depressing chapbook.”

So yeah, I’d like to write a longer work with a bunch of unsavory characters who may or who may not do what is socially acceptable. And why shouldn’t I write such a book? I’m surrounded by unsavory characters eight hours a day, five days a week—including sex offenders. And that’s exactly what “Lost Memory of Skin” is about: sexual deviants who reintegrate into society.

Banks creates a sympathetic protagonist in The Kid, a registered sex-offender living under the Clayborne Causeway with baby-bangers, chomos, and rapists; yet, his sexual experiences haven’t gone beyond masturbation during adult pornography viewing sessions. Unfortunately, all that porn sparks his imagination when he inadvertently enters a computer chat-room with the intent of studding out his pet Iguana to someone known as Brandi-18. That’s when his fantasy world collides with the “seemingly” real world and we discover his troubled past through a series of interviews conducted by a mysterious sociologist professor.

I especially like how Banks shows varying degrees of sexual deviations from non-sex-offenders, two of which hit close to home. Here’s his description of The Professor’s marriage:

But they did not marry for sex in the first place, nor was it ever an essential part of their relationship. Sexual intercourse, at least in the beginning, was merely a requirement, an obligation on both their parts determined mostly by convention and proximity and her wish to have a child, rather than by attraction or desire (p.123).

Or how about The Kid’s thoughts regarding his mother’s promiscuity:

But what about the women who when they were little girls got hurt somehow? Hurt so bad they got stuck there scared of having to grow up and as a result they never grow up… (p.37).

What disappoints me about “Lost Memory of Skin” is how the plot gets in the way of its characters; especially The Professor’s cloudy past, how The Kid’s left to form his own judgment of him through the philosophical discussions of a Travel Writer who conveniently appears near the end of the book. Still, this novel has its moments and is definitely worth reading.