Scott Semegran
After reading ERASURE and JAMES, I looked forward to this novel, but did not enjoy it as much as these previous two books. Like most police procedurals I've read, there is very little exposition and an abundance of dialogue. Every character ends their scenes with quippy zingers and snarky commentary which becomes a bit tiring after a while. But the principal idea of the plot is interesting and the climax is worth reaching, making this book an enjoyable read even if a lot of the police investigation doesn't add much to the book's conclusion.
Begins as an inverse of Huckleberry Finn. Funny at times yet endearing, Huck and Jim's friendship shines through. By Part 3, the story morphs into a revenge fever dream, horrific yet believable. James's vengeance feels true and just. A remarkable novel that is very readable, engaging, thought-provoking, and-most of all-fun to read.
Excellent collection of essays: thoughtful and searching.
Some I really enjoyed: Carly Rae Jepson Loves You Back, I Wasn't Brought Here, I Was Born Here, Death Becomes You: My Chemical Romance and Ten Years of The Black Parade.
A few essays were stale time capsules like The Weeknd and the Future of Loveless Sex.
But on the whole, a great read about music, race, and nostalgia for the real that flourishes in our youth when finding meaningful connections.
Be Brief and Tell Them Everything by Brad Listi is a novel of autofiction. The book description from the publisher describes it best: “A darkly funny meditation on creativity and family, Be Brief and Tell Them Everything tracks the life of a middle-aged author who is struggling to write his next novel while trying to come to grips with his son's disabilities, set against a backdrop of ecological catastrophe and escalating human insanity in contemporary Los Angeles. A beautiful, powerful, concise work of autofiction that is reminiscent of My Struggle and Grief is the Thing with Feathers, Be Brief documents the stops and starts of adulthood and marriage, and the joys and challenges of parenting, while defining what it means to be a good man, and a good writer.”
The fictional Brad in this novel is very similar to real-life Brad Listi. They both are married with children and live in Los Angeles and host a podcast about a writer talking to other writers. It's difficult to tell from listening to Brad on his podcast and reading Brad's thoughts in his novel where—or if—the two “Brads” diverge. Certainly, they're the same person, right? That's the conundrum, but what a fun one to read and explore.
Autofiction is a flavor of fictionalized autobiography, heightening the question of what is real and what is embellished. In television, think of Seinfeld. In movies, think Almost Famous. In other recent literature, think of The Red-Headed Pilgrim by Kevin Maloney. In most cases, there's a modification of real-life events or the invention of subplots or tangents that help in the search for the self—the examination of the author's “character.” The embellishing in this book procures comedic gold. Be Brief is observationally funny as Brad picks apart the positive and negative aspects of the city of Los Angeles, the lunacy of the endless failures and iterations of writing books, the foibles of parenting by people who have barely figured out their own lives, along with the untimely deaths of his loved ones and the guilt from being raised Catholic.
Brad also revisits the trouble he and his wife had conceiving their second child, only to discover once they did conceive was that their son would be diagnosed with epilepsy and cerebral palsy, a crushing diagnosis for the author. But from that comes a realization of the order of things once they've occurred, things more valuable than he once thought, something like destiny, a funny realization when juxtaposed with Brad's antagonistic views towards organized religion.
A section about procuring psilocybin mushrooms and the retelling of his psychedelic vision threatens to derail this thought-provoking, funny, and tender book. Brad graciously concludes the story of his life so far by recounting the many times he's found himself praying next to his children's beds, not necessarily praying to God, but to cosmic forces unknown, hoping for some grace and a reprieve from the bullshit that life often throws his way.
I really enjoyed this book of stories and I highly recommend it. I would give this book four and a half stars.
Blacktop Wasteland by S. A. Cosby is a novel categorized as a crime thriller. The book description from the publisher describes it best: “Beauregard “Bug” Montage is an honest mechanic, a loving husband, and a hard-working dad. Bug knows there's no future in the man he used to be: known from the hills of North Carolina to the beaches of Florida as the best wheelman on the East Coast. He thought he'd left all that behind him, but as his carefully built new life begins to crumble, he finds himself drawn inexorably back into a world of blood and bullets. When a smooth-talking former associate comes calling with a can't-miss jewelry store heist, Bug feels he has no choice but to get back in the driver's seat. And Bug is at his best where the scent of gasoline mixes with the smell of fear. Haunted by the ghost of who he used to be and the father who disappeared when he needed him most, Bug must find a way to navigate this blacktop wasteland...or die trying.”
This is the second novel I've read by S. A. Cosby, the first being Razorblade Tears which I absolutely loved. Although for me not as emotionally charged as Razorblade Tears, there's still so much to enjoy about this thrilling, fast-paced, crime novel.
Beauregard “Bug” Montage is trying to be a good man, father, husband, and son, but life keeps throwing him combinations that he has a hard time outmaneuvering. His mother is in a nursing home and needs over $30,000 to keep her bed. His bills are piling up at home and at his floundering auto repair shop. It just seems like he can't keep up. When Ronnie Sessions, a small-time hood, approaches Beauregard about joining a heist, we learn that Beauregard is known around that part of the country as the best getaway driver there ever was, even better than his crooked father was. When Ronnie temps Beauregard with a close to six-figure payout, Beauregard takes the bite even though he knows that Ronnie isn't trustworthy. What ensues is a nail-biting crime thriller that takes many twists and turns, most of which are surprising and gripping.
Cosby is an excellent writer and keeps the pace going strong even after sections of back story or glimpses into Beauregard familial life. Where Cosby truly shines though is the emotional depth he gives his main character: Beauregard. He truly struggles with the pull of a life of crime, one that he seems destined for even though he doesn't want it. His real-world struggles are relatable and the stress that comes from debt or medical bills is crushing. It's easy to see how the allure of a big payout from an “easy” job is tempting to him. But as easy as it appears, Cosby has dark roads for him to drive down and this quick job sucks Beauregard into a black hole of bad decisions, threatening to consume him and his loved ones.
I really enjoyed this book of stories and I highly recommend it. I would give this book four and a half stars.
Winner of the 2021 Joyce Carol Oates Prize, The Office of Historical Corrections is a smart yet searing collection of stories about race, grief, and the historical implications about what is right. This collection contains six stories and a novella.
“Richard of York Gave Battle in Vain” is about a photographer who is forced to examine personal losses while attending the wedding of an old friend.
The best of the collection is the titular novella “The Office of Historical Corrections,” a powerful story about an employee who works for a government agency that corrects historical inaccuracies and the delicate friendship she has with a rogue coworker who was also a childhood frenemy.
Great collection of stories.
The Theory of Light and Matter by Andrew Porter is a book of short stories categorized as literary fiction. The book description from the publisher describes it best: “These ten stories take us across the country—from rural Pennsylvania to Southern California to suburban Connecticut—and deep into characters struggling to find meaning in their day-to-day lives. The Theory of Light and Matter is a stunningly astute vision of contemporary American suburbia, full of tension, heartbreak, and emotional complexity—the work of an important new voice. Long Listed for the Frank O'Connor International Short Story Award.”
Earlier this year, I read the new collection The Disappeared by Andrew Porter and knew I'd have to dive into this earlier collection by the same author. There is a different cast of characters in this one, an array of disaffected yet searching narrators looking for meaning in their lives when they aren't receiving answers from their loved ones or friends or neighbors. All of the stories are told in first-person and are intimate retellings of very personal situations and memories.
“Azul” is about a husband's awkward relationship to a foreign exchange student—who is named Azul—and the close relationship the student has to the narrator's wife. The narrator—Paul—is baffled by how close his wife becomes with Azul and often wonders why he's tasked with driving Azul to his lover's place. Paul often delights in observing Azul's spats with his gay lover Ramón. When they break up, Paul unwittingly invites Ramón to a house party for Azul with unsettling results.
In “Merkin,” Lynn and Michael are neighbors who support each other when their respective relationships and marriages fall apart. They're platonic friends even though they speak about a mutual attraction. Lynn keeps her lesbian relationship from her father, using Michael as a stand-in boyfriend. Michael organizes a poetry reading for deaf students. Even though they don't seem to understand why the other does what they do, they are deeply supportive of each other.
By far the best and most moving story in the collection is the titular “The Theory of Light and Matter.” It's the story of college student Heather and the relationships she has with two men: her boyfriend Colin and her professor Robert. She loves the two men for very different reasons, but is drawn to older Robert because he truly seems to know the real her. Their relationship is mostly platonic, but Heather confesses to the reader a very deep connection she feels to Robert. Colin is the more practical choice and she reveals that she eventually marries him, but she confesses to a couple of rendezvous that expose her true feelings toward Robert and her disconnection from Colin. It's a story filled with emotion and mystery and the undeniable truth that people are full of secrets—some worth sharing with others and some which can never be excavated. After Colin discovers Heather spending time with Robert at a bar, she agrees to never see Robert again, yet she still secretly visits him and reveals even more to the reader. It's a devastating admission to the denial of her true feelings. I loved this story.
I really enjoyed this book of stories and I highly recommend it. I would give this book five stars.
The Red-Headed Pilgrim by Kevin Maloney is a humorous novel of literary autofiction. The book description from the publisher describes it best: “On a sunny day in a business park near Portland, Oregon, 42-year-old web developer Kevin Maloney is in the throes of an existential crisis that finds him shoeless in a field of Queen Anne's lace, reflecting on the tumultuous events that brought him to this moment. Thus begins a journey of hard-earned insights and sexual awakening that takes Kevin from angst-ridden Beaverton to the beaches of San Diego, a frontier-themed roadside attraction in Helena, Montana, and a hermetic shack on an organic lettuce farm. Everything changes when Kevin falls in love with Wendy. After a chance tarot reading lands them on the frigid coast of Maine, their lives are unsettled by the birth of their daughter, Zoë, whose sudden presence is oftentimes terrifying, frequently disturbing, and yet–miraculously–always wondrous. The Red-Headed Pilgrim is an irresistible novel of misadventure and new beginnings, of wanderlust and bad decisions, of parenthood and divorce, and of the heartfelt truths we unearth when we least expect it.”
Main character “Kevin Maloney” is a fictionalized version of author Kevin Maloney and the book opens with him wondering how he fossilized into the day-job that was only supposed to last for a short time, but stretched into twelve years. What he really wanted to do was see the world or join a monastery or live in the woods shunning modern society and bellowing a “barbaric yawp.” Kevin wonders what happened? He recounts his younger years through his twenties with the verve and idiocy of Bukowski's Hank Chinaski ala Walt Whitman ala Allen Ginsberg ala Burrough's William Lee. He quotes Jung and listens to the Red Hot Chili Peppers and asks young women if he can stick his penis in their vaginas (literally). His adventures lead him to a weird, codependent relationship with Wendy which spawns a child named Zoë.
Eventually, Kevin's relationship with Wendy curdles and Zoë becomes way more perceptive than Kevin or even Wendy can handle. It's a pretty wild ride for Kevin and Wendy as they travel back and forth from Portland, Oregon to Portland, Maine and back, their restlessness exasperated by the demands of parenting and the need for money and benefits and stability that only a boring work-life can give.
The main focus, of course, is “Kevin.” He's the narrator and the center of the story. Often hilariously oblivious, his single-mindedness toward getting laid or finding adventure is endearing for a good while, although his behavior and limited sensibility becomes tiresome and repetitive. Why does he keep making these idiotic decisions? It becomes hard to take after a while. Fortunately, author Kevin Maloney injects pathos and honest reflection by the end, which provides the reader an opportunity to inspect their own life as a teenager and young adult, all the stupid decision that they most likely made and the consequences of those stupid decisions. After reading the epilogue, I was able to relate to “Kevin” a bit and see my own idiotic younger self. That guy—my younger self—made a ton of boneheaded decisions, many of them regretful. One of the things “Kevin” feels nostalgic for is a young person's ability to just go with it, to just roll with the punches, say yes to any adventure, to just do something—anything. And that's a wonderful ability to have at any age. As Kevin declares by the end, just say “yes, yes, yes” to adventure.
I enjoyed this novel and I recommend it. I would give this book four and a half stars.
Norwood by Charles Portis is a humorous novel that is a picaresque road trip story. The book description from the publisher describes it best: “Out of the American Neon Desert of Roller Dromes, chili parlors, The Grand Ole Opry, and girls who want “to live in a trailer and play records all night” comes ex-marine and troubadour Norwood Pratt. Sent on a mission to New York by Grady Fring, the Kredit King, Norwood has visions of “speeding across the country in a late model car, seeing all the sights.” Instead, he gets involved in a wild journey that takes him in and out of stolen cars, freight trains, and buses. By the time he returns home to Ralph, Texas, Norwood has met his true love, Rita Lee, on a Trailways bus; befriended Edmund B. Ratner, the second shortest midget in show business and “the world's smallest perfect fat man”; and helped Joann, “the chicken with a college education,” realize her true potential in life.”
Norwood is Portis's first novel and another book lovingly brought back to life by The Overlook Press along with classics True Grit and Dog of the South (another picaresque novel and a stronger one at that). Norwood Pratt is sent home to check on his sister Vernell after their father died, as it's claimed she's unable to look after herself. He helps her get a job and she quickly meets an older suitor who she marries. Finding himself now sharing their father's house with his sister and her grumpy husband, Norwood happily accepts a “job” from Grady Fring, the Kredit King, where he's tasked with driving a pair of cars to New York along with a beautiful yet pissed off performer, Miss Phillips. And the adventure begins. Norwood confesses his dream of becoming a country singer, Miss Phillips steals one of the cars and drives away to Chicago, and Norwood trips from one strange situation to another.
Portis excels at dry yet hilarious conversations and Norwood has plenty with a plethora of rascals on the trip, where he confesses his dream of singing on a radio show and doesn't hesitate to tell people when he doesn't like something. Norwood has a fantastic ability to stumble into one weird situation after another, yet is able dance through them without falling down. He even meets his future bride Rita Lee on a Greyhound bus—of all places—on the way back home to Ralph, Texas, and many of his acquaintances razz him about this, but he's lovestruck and determined to marry her, nonetheless.
Unfortunately, Norwood suffers from also being a relic of its time, and the use of the slurs “nigger” and “midget” becomes wearing later in the novel, and the humor of its time related to race and dwarfism just isn't considered funny nowadays. This is where later novel Dog of the South leapfrogs over Norwood as the better picaresque novel as it jettisons this type of humor for the most part, and focuses more on the foibles of its characters rather than their physical appearances.
Despite this, there is plenty to enjoy in this novel. I recommend it. I would give this book four stars.
The first story “In Flux” was exceptional. Kafkaesque and very funny in parts, I really, really enjoyed this story a lot. The rest of the stories were pretty good, but not like the first one. More like “slice of life” stories, I really hoped for a return to the biting satire of “In Flux,” but didn't get it. The audiobook narrator's performance was good, too, except his Jamaican patois was better in smaller doses as it came across as too performative and less natural. Overall, a good audiobook.
The Disappeared by Andrew Porter is a book of short stories categorized as literary fiction. The book description from the publisher describes it best: “A husband and wife hear a mysterious bump in the night. A father mourns the closeness he has lost with his son. A friendship with a married couple turns into a dangerous codependency. With gorgeous sensitivity, assurance, and a propulsive sense of menace, these stories center on disappearances both literal and figurative–lives and loves that are cut short, the vanishing of one's youthful self. From San Antonio to Austin, from the clamor of a crowded restaurant to the cigarette at a lonely kitchen table, Andrew Porter captures each of these relationships mid-flight, every individual life punctuated by loss and beauty and need. The Disappeared reaffirms the undeniable artistry of a contemporary master of the form.”
Fifteen stories are told in this collection, most taking place between San Antonio, Texas to Austin and back. There are a few intriguing questions that run through this collection. What happened to who I used to be? What ever happened to the interesting people I used to hang out with when I was younger? What happened to those weird neighbors I used to live next door to at that shabby apartment complex? If there is a theme song for this book, then it would be “Somebody That I Used to Know.”
For instance, in the first story “Austin,” the narrator begins the story at a party where some old college buddies are hanging out and getting drunk. They're reminiscing and telling stories, although the narrator feels disconnected from them. One friend tells a story about an acquaintance who killed a home invader and asks the narrator if he was justified in doing it. Instead of answering this moral dilemma, the narrator simply leaves the party; he disappears. At home, his wife worries about a possible intruder in their own laundry room. Late one night as he stays up worrying, he muses:
“Outside I could hear the occasional sound of a car passing, young people shouting things into the air. When did I become the person who listened to such sounds and not the person who made them?”
Another story finds a man wondering if an artist he used to date was having a relationship with an older mentor who painted nude portraits of her, but because she dies later, he never finds out. Another story finds a couple dealing with the future of a Parkinson's diagnosis, the female partner seeing her current life eventually disappearing into the incurable disease. A brief story finds a man reminiscing about a hole-in-the-wall Mexican restaurant where he enjoys an astounding pozole soup, but the restaurant changes owners overnight and the remarkable soup vanishes as well as the unusual patrons who all enjoyed their exquisite meals there. Life changes in an instant sometimes. Where do these people and things disappear to?
Porter handles all of these stories with a command of his craft. His writing is fantastic and the stories move along like a ship in the ocean but without a hint of how these stories will end up. There are several places where Porter plays with the reader's expectations, putting clues in place that don't play out the way the reader would expect. Some stories unfurl with a candid placidity; others lurch with a creeping dread. The final story crackles with sexual tension, yet ends with such a thoughtful denouement that I felt consoled instead of tantalized.
When looking back on one's life, many events don't play out how you'd have guessed at the time and I feel Porter revels in this conundrum. When people in your life disappear, where do they go? What happens to them? What happened to the person you used to be? Wouldn't we all want to know.
I really, really enjoyed this book of stories and I highly recommend it. I would give this book six stars out of five, if I could. It's that good!
The Pathless Sky by Chaitali Sen is a book of literary fiction. The book description from the publisher describes it best: “In the “exquisitely written” The Pathless Sky, Chaitali Sen conjures a world in which a nation's political turmoil, its secret history, and growing social unrest turn life into a fragile and capricious thing and love into a necessary refuge to be defended at all costs. A world not unlike the one we live in. Though they fell in love in college, life has conspired to keep John and Mariam apart for years. But a day comes when, across a great distance, both realize they have always loved each other. During the intervening years, however, the troubles in their country have reached a critical impasse. Government crimes have been white-washed, personal liberty is deeply compromised, a resistance movement has emerged from the underground to take the fight for freedom to the streets, and the government militia employs increasingly draconian measures in an attempt to maintain control. When Mariam is implicated in the latest spell of anti-government actions and arrested without appeal, the consequences of her and John's love will prove potentially dire for both.”
John and Miriam meet in college and although there is an unexplainable attraction, they don't consummate their relationship for years. The journey toward marriage is long, but is compelling, nonetheless. John joins the military and is deployed, then goes to grad school. Miriam gets a job as a librarian. They keep in touch through letters (!!!), but the distance between them is vast until John realizes he's in love with Miriam and goes to great lengths to get back to her. Once married, family secrets are revealed that conspire to keep them bound to Miriam's hometown, but John is determined to get them out at all costs.
Sen does a fantastic job of keeping the threads of John and Miriam's lives interweaving, even when John's behavior is frustratingly immature. There is a palpable connection between the two and both are intelligent and ambitious, but John philandering keeps him at arm's length from Miriam. But once deployed in the military, John witnesses a horrific war crime that “awakens” him, and all he can think about is getting back to Miriam.
The narrative takes its time and often meanders (its pathless, as the title suggests), but I couldn't help but cheer for these two as their connection is powerful and their relationship ultimately is beneficial and supportive for the both of them. Sen's writing is thoughtful and measured. If there is a downside here, then its lack of scene setting and location description is frustrating. I found myself trying to imagine their lives in places mentioned like Mount Belet, Sulat, and Alexandria, but my mind placed them in American settings because of the lack of scene description in these foreign locations. Despite this, I still really enjoyed this novel and I recommend it. I would give this book four and a half stars.
This was the second time I read this book. The first time was in my mid-twenties and I loved it. I seemed to remember it as irreverent, funny, and biting. Twenty-seven years later, I still found parts of it to be funny and irreverent, but less biting this time around. In fact, Buk is pretty repetitive in this novel and some of his “bits” are repeated from many of his other books whether it's describing his cigarettes (the “an Indian cigarette called a Sher Bidi. The lepers roll them” bit) or the constant opening of red wine and pouring some red. As I've gotten older, his constant reference to boozing has gotten tiresome and takes away from his observant writer's eye, which I feel was sharper in his earlier novels and short stories. The narrative here is a lot of “and then, and then, and then” with very little reflection. When he does stop and say something like:
“I was a little sad that I wasn't young... I starved so that I could have time to write. That just isn't done much anymore.”
Then I'd wished he done a little more of that reflection. Instead, it feels like a confession that this novel just isn't his best work.
That just isn't done much anymore. That seems true when this novel came out.
If you want grade-A Buk fiction, then go for Ham on Rye or South of No North. Those books are excellent!
Samurai Bluegrass by Craig Terlson is a book of science fiction with elements of time travel and suspense. The book description from the publisher describes it best: “In a magical tale of a samurai lost in time, Craig Terlson draws bold strokes of beauty and violence, music and myth, calm and chaos, in ancient Japan and modern-day Toronto. Gordo Clement arrives in a forest in Toronto in 1984, right after he was killed by archers in 12th C. feudal Japan. Or so he believes. When Gordo is invited to a bluegrass concert, he recognizes traits of the samurai in the players, and the music pulls him back to the moment he crossed over in time. Still in a reverie from the concert, he comes upon Heather, a single mother, who is set upon by a gang of men. Gordo appears out of the shadows and fights off her attackers like a martial arts master. While hiding his true identity from his friends, Gordo learns that the doctor is a fellow time-traveler who knows how to get back to the 12th C. Gordo is elated at the thought of returning home, until he understands that for the crossover to happen someone must die.”
Terlson switches between first- and third-person for the chapters narrated by Gordo (1st) and Heather (3rd). Terlson does an excellent job of unspooling this time travel adventure, weaving both narrative threads masterfully. Gordo's “fish out of water” bit is funny yet detailed as he tries to grapple with his new life in Toronto, far and away from his previous life in twelfth-century Japan. Heather's life as a single parent is troublesome for her yet relatable for the reader. When these two characters cross paths, we are propelled down a winding urban adventure to a satisfying conclusion. The vigilante motif is a well-trodden tale in pop culture via movies, television, and comic books, but is uniquely told here. Terlson is an author worth keeping an eye out for. I will be reading more of his books in the near future.
I enjoyed this novel and I recommend it. I would give this book five stars.