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Natural Beauty: A Novel - Hardcover

Huang, Ling Ling

 
9780593472927: Natural Beauty: A Novel
Hardcover
ISBN 10: 0593472926 ISBN 13: 9780593472927
Verlag: Dutton, 2023

Inhaltsangabe

Winner of the Lambda Literary Award in Bisexual Fiction

Longlisted for the PEN/Hemingway Award for Debut Novel

Sly, surprising, and razor-sharp, Natural Beauty follows a young musician into an elite, beauty-obsessed world where perfection comes at a staggering cost.

Our narrator produces a sound from the piano no one else at the Conservatory can. She employs a technique she learned from her parents—also talented musicians—who fled China in the wake of the Cultural Revolution. But when an accident leaves her parents debilitated, she abandons her future for a job at a high-end beauty and wellness store in New York City.
 
Holistik is known for its remarkable products and procedures—from remoras that suck out cheap Botox to eyelash extensions made of spider silk—and her new job affords her entry into a world of privilege and gives her a long-awaited sense of belonging. She becomes transfixed by Helen, the niece of Holistik’s charismatic owner, and the two strike up a friendship that hazily veers into more. All the while, our narrator is plied with products that slim her thighs, smooth her skin, and lighten her hair. But beneath these creams and tinctures lies something sinister.
 
A piercing, darkly funny debut, Natural Beauty explores questions of consumerism, self-worth, race, and identity—and leaves readers with a shocking and unsettling truth.

Die Inhaltsangabe kann sich auf eine andere Ausgabe dieses Titels beziehen.

Über die Autorin bzw. den Autor

Ling Ling Huang is a writer and violinist. She plays with several ensembles, including the Oregon Symphony, Grand Teton Music Festival Orchestra, ProMusica, Chamber Orchestra, and the Experiential Orchestra, with whom she won a Grammy Award in 2021. Natural Beauty is her first novel.

Auszug. © Genehmigter Nachdruck. Alle Rechte vorbehalten.

Chapter One

Even the door is beautiful. A single piece of dark heavy wood, like rich chocolate poured under an ancient stone archway carved with wings and scales. My hand rests on the golden doorknob, surprisingly hot to the touch. A twist and a push and I am pulled in by the deep pink carpets and the soft muted clinking of expensive products. Warm candlelight emanates from every surface. A light botanical smell fills the air.

People mill around, tightly wrapped in sumptuous wools and furs. They sniff, drip, and dribble substances onto themselves. Light gray mother-of-pearl inlays stripe the walls. When the light catches, they seem to move like the sudden falling of tears. In fact, the entire place feels unusually alive, as if I have stumbled into the womb of a slumbering giantess.

In the back, a tall man in a sharp black suit stands next to a woman caressing the sleeping sloth curled around her neck. He nods at her a few times before crouching down abruptly to catch a vial tumbling from a toddler's pudgy hand. He straightens and smiles at the child as he places the product out of reach. He moves with authority, towering over everyone. Balletic and rigorous in his economy of movement.

His dark blond hair is slicked close to his head, and his face has a rubbery quality, like it would hold a pressed handprint. The exception is his cheekbones, which slice the air like fins. I realize he looks familiar, though I can't remember where I've seen him. The wall behind him is light pink, filled with rows and rows of white ceramic jars, like gleaming teeth embedded in a healthy set of gums.

"Darling, you came! Welcome to Holistik."

Saje walks over with quick steps and slips an arm through mine. I worry that she can smell me, the November air not yet cold enough to keep me from sweating on my long walk here. Her smile is warm. "What do you think?"

She's wearing a silky nude jumpsuit and dark red hair snakes over her shoulder, glinting in the dim lighting. Her irises are brown but have a surprising yellow edge I hadn't noticed last night. She is so tall in her animal-skin stilettos, I have to strain my neck to meet her eye.

"Would you be interested in working here?"

My jaw drops open and my mouth fills with cold air. I hastily shut it, embarrassed, and look at her for a few long seconds to see if there's any chance she's fucking with me. Her expression is unchanged-and looking around at all the products, so many specifically made to keep women from ever aging, I wonder if she's even capable of different expressions.

"Yes," I say, exalting her by craning my neck as high as it will go. She starts to explain the particulars of the job, the pay and benefits included, and I feel a wave of relief so intense, I have to reach out and grab the display table next to me.

"Thank you," I add, surprised to find myself blinking back tears.

Her smile widens, showing teeth. "No thanks necessary. I'm so glad I found you. I knew from the moment we met that you'd be the perfect addition to our little family here. I'll introduce you to Lilith in a moment. She'll be the one to show you around. Why don't you go downstairs? There's an employee closet where you can put your things."

Chapter Two

I take the stairs down and pause. How different from my previous place of employment. Every bit as opulent as the floor above, this private space is enormous and inviting. A few women seem to float together on a cloudlike structure that acts as a sofa. They are homogeneously beautiful, as if airlifted from a movie set about popular high school girls. They are still in character, perhaps, since they don't acknowledge or even notice me. Gigantic shelves loom on the left, crammed with stone jars and crystal vials. A clean, faintly medicinal smell puts me at ease. It is cold down here, refreshingly so, and I love the clinical click of my shoes on the porcelain tiles.

The full kitchen is spotless, as if it has never been used. My view through the clear refrigerator door is blocked by a dense forest of rainbow-colored juices. I ignore my sudden hunger pangs and begin my search for the employee closet.

I pass a door with an electronic lock. A sign over it: The Zoo. Down the main hallway, a glass door. Beyond it, people dressed in white lab coats move with urgency. On a table in front of them, something wrinkled and translucent pumps like a beating heart. Jellyfish, I think, though they look like crumpled plastic bags recently fished out of water. In the closet, I leave my bag and hang up my ratty old coat. At least the clothes I am wearing underneath are somewhat nicer. Long sleeves, as Saje had requested.
  
She had stomped in late, looking so filthy rich no one wanted to tell her the restaurant was closed. She was very beautiful, with skin so white it was almost translucent, and her long red hair was tucked into a lavender coat that looked incredibly soft. I could have believed someone was airbrushing her live image.

I had just finished another day of scrubbing endless dishes in piping hot water. It wasn't so bad once I'd gotten used to it. At the end of each night, I would kick off my shoes, eat leftovers from the kitchen, and strip the burned skin from my hands. I felt triumphant when I could get a large piece off all at once, like peeling off an opera glove. Months of lightly flaying myself had made the raw skin baby soft, and I sometimes fantasized about submerging my whole body in the sink, shedding everything.

"May I have one?" She slipped into the seat opposite mine,  gesturing at my leftovers, coiling her legs beneath her.

I masked my surprise with politeness. "Sure. They're cold, though."

She picked at the soggy fries, pushing them through a small opening between her two front teeth. I was mesmerized by this action. The gap caused a soft musical whistle when she spoke, as if she had songbirds in her throat. She sighed and the birds took flight. I felt grimy sitting across from her, surely exuding the smell of recycled frying oil from every orifice.

"Man's greatest invention, don't you think? The potato with salt," the woman said, licking a finger.

I said nothing. Carla was glaring at me from behind the counter, prematurely accusing me of stealing a wealthy customer.

"Did you know that they can be toxic? Nothing serious. You won't die from a potato, but it can make you very ill," she said.

I smiled reflexively. Rich people have all the time in the world to pick up random anecdotes for small talk.

She suddenly leaned in, peering at me with an inquisitiveness that made me stop breathing. "Wait a minute. I know you."

I almost looked behind me. "Excuse me?"

"You look very familiar. Have we met?"

I gazed at her once more, carefully, before shaking my head. My hair, greasy from a day next to the fryer, didn't move.

"Have you been in the city a long time? Do you study here?"

Close enough, I thought as I nodded.

"What do you study?"

"I studied piano. At the Conservatory."

There was a look of recognition on her face.

She jabbed a fry at me. "I knew it. You're her! The Rachmaninoff girl!" she said. "Am I right?"

A quick nod.

"You're incredible! I love the piano, and I'm a huge supporter of the arts!"

"That's great," I say.

There's a pause before I realize I should thank her for supporting the vague "arts," which in this instance is me. "Thanks so much."

"What are you doing here? A bit far from the Conservatory, aren't you?" She was leaning in so close, I could feel her hot breath on my face.

"I'm not there anymore."

"Where are you playing next? I would love to see you perform."

I hesitated, still unsure of how to answer these types of questions. It had been almost three years since I had...

„Über diesen Titel“ kann sich auf eine andere Ausgabe dieses Titels beziehen.

Verlag
Dutton
Erscheinungsdatum
2023
Sprache
Englisch
ISBN 10 
0593472926
ISBN 13 
9780593472927
Einband
Gebundene Ausgabe
Anzahl der Seiten
272
Kontakt zum Hersteller
Nicht verfügbar
Verantwortliche Person
Edel Music & Entertainment GmbH
https://www.edel.com

Neum�hlen 17
Hamburg
Hamburg
Deutschland