Book Review by Heidi Simmons
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Diary
By Chuck Palahniuk
Fiction
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For my last column, I reviewed the work of fiction Gone Girl by Gillian Flynn. In this current best seller, Flynn uses diary entries from the “gone girl” to help shape the narrative. It made me consider the effectiveness of the writing technique. Which brought to mind the creepy representation of this literary device as used by Chuck Palahniuk in his 2003 tale, actually entitled, Diary (Anchor Books, 262 pages).
In Diary, Misty Wilmot discovers her husband Peter after a failed suicide attempt. Hospitalized, Peter is now a contorted, comatose vegetable and Misty is encouraged to keep a dairy in the event he should wake up and want to know all that he missed, albeit highly unlikely. For Misty, it is the beginning of a self-reflective and strange journey of discovery — and not in a healthy way.
Misty slowly realizes she is a part of something she cannot control. She is the key player in a bizarre plot for which she was “selected” in order to save the small island of Waytansea from ruin. With the whole community in on it, Misty starts to believe there may be a supernatural element to her existence. Even her daughter is involved in the desperate conspiracy to use her mother’s talents in order to take back the town.
Palahniuk did not exactly nail the story, but his use of the format works on many levels making Diary a compelling, layered and sinister read.
If you are a follower of Palahniuk, you are aware that he loves obscure details and information. He colors his books with facts and philosophy that pertain to the nature of his character’s wants and needs. In Diary, Misty is an artist. She met her husband in art school. And it is her painting that will restore the island. From Misty’s entries we get an understanding of her fear and self-doubt. It is a look into an angry, frustrated and aching lost-soul of an artist, who is cast into a dilemma she is ill equipped to handle.
Within her pages, Misty speaks directly to her nearly dead husband. The narrative is told mostly in the rare second person voice. “All that unfulfilled promise. Here’s what you’ve done with your life. All you need to understand is you turned out to be one sorry sack of shit.” This perspective of her husband also reflects her feelings about herself. The reader, through the character’s forth-coming, sincere, regular journaling, gets an intense sense of the protagonist’s point of view.
The diary narrative allows the reader a first-hand struggle with the conflict. What is happening to our hero is happening to us. What can we do about it? Nothing but experience it and that can be uncomfortable and scary.
The Palahniuk style of short sentences and repetitive lines accentuates and punctuates the thematic elements that give the story meaning. As an artist, Misty studied anatomy and she regularly notes the changes in body language. Palahniuk, through Misty, uses these terms throughout the book to describe muscles that involuntary contort a body or face, alive or dead.
My favorite reoccurring line is “What you don’t understand, you can make mean anything.” Again, the diary works to tell us about her inner world, the world she’s caught up in and it speaks directly to the reader in our world.
Misty’s personal record of events, her thoughts and observations dig just deep enough to question the nature of suffering and inspiration pertaining to artists and their work. Where does inspiration come from? Must an artist suffer to produce meaningful art? According to Misty, “Everything is a self-portrait. Everything is a diary.”
Ten years ago, Diary was not a big success compared to Fight Club, but it deserves recognition for its idiosyncratic execution. Sure, the story could be stronger, but it’s narrative style and themes are robust, provocative and darkly entertaining.
