I read Pin in a single day, or more specifically, a single night. Partially because the writing flows easily and lends itself to rapid consumption by simpletons like myself, and partially because I had insomnia. This was a refreshing change of pace from my experience with 1Q84.
The plot of Pin centres around a brother and sister pair whose parents die in a car crash, and so they live alone in a big house, supported by a healthy inheritance. That is, alone with their talking anatomical mannequin, Pin. The same kind of clear-skinned mannequins with visible organs that you see in doctor’s offices.
Before I proceed, a quick word, if I may, about my personal history with this particular novel.
Pin was originally printed in 1981, and was recommended to me by a very nice lady that I love like a second mother. She ships me home-made cookies and treats for the holidays, has raised a loving family, and never forgets my birthday. She is sweet and compassionate, and has possibly encouraged my writing more than anyone else in my life. She loves horses, lives on a ranch, and is one of the most wholesome people I know. This book was her gift to me last Christmas, because when she first read it years ago, she felt wholly put off by the disturbing doll-creature in the story, and wanted to share the experience with me after reading my novel, The Toymaker’s Mansion. For these reasons, and my impression that it was a horror story, I was not prepared for the actual content of the book.
Specifically, there is a lot of sex in this book.
I mean, it’s only 294 pages, but I’m pretty sure the sister, Ursula, is naked, masturbating, or talking about sex on at least 150 of those pages. I am not saying that the sexual content is unreasonable, as it fits within the context of the story. I was merely shocked, is all, considering the source of the recommendation.
To summarize my experience, Pin is a pretty good book about overly intimate siblings and their creepy talking mannequin. It’s more of a thriller than a horror story, I think, but I am having trouble pinning it to a single genre. Additionally, the climax of the story is a little unclear, as I cannot say for certain what happens to the narrator to finish him off. Well, I understand what happens to him but I don’t necessarily understand why it happens.
SPOILER ALERT!
This is one of those books that hinges on a revelation that the reader discovers through their own deduction, such that a second read will provide a much different story, so some vagueness in the exposition is necessary. (FYI: I am super proud of myself for figuring it out about halfway through.) That said, I still think the author could have been more forthcoming with many of the details, particularly near the end, and thus I feel that he broke the eighth commandment. All considered, seven out of eight is damn good.
