Lindsey Reviews: Unexplained Fevers

Unexplained Fevers by Jeannine Hall Gailey

Pages: 74

Publisher: New Binary Press

Released: 2013

Dog Eared Review by Lindsey Lewis Smithson (review contributor)

Unexplained Fevers is Jeannine Hall Gailey’s third poetry collection, after Becoming the Villainess and She Returns to the Floating World. Here she reimagines many classic princesses and fairy tales as realistic humans operating in the modern world.

Poems like “Sleeping Beauty Has An MRI,” “A True Princess Bruises,” and “Things I Learned In Waiting Rooms,” place princesses in modern day medical peril that is reminiscent to their fairy tale dilemmas. Instead of the pristine women readers expect though, the ones who overcome their problems with the help of men, these women have only their own inner strength as an aid.  Other poems are similar to “In Which Jack And Jill Decide Whether To Climb Yet Another Hill” and “Seascape,” where the characters have more power over their situations.

For the most part the concept works; it is an immersive and realistic collection that doesn’t rely too much on its fairy tale origins.  There are a few poems that lean heavily on the artifice and as such the reader can feel the strain. Oddly there are also a handful of poems entirely devoid of the fairy tale aspect, which makes me question their inclusion. Despite these drawbacks Gailey’s poems are a nice break from the confessional style books that often get published and would be worth spending an afternoon with on a warm day.

Dog Eared Pages:

10, 11, 13, 15, 16, 17, 18, 20, 24, 25, 26, 28, 29, 30, 33, 34, 35, 37, 40, 41, 43, 46, 48, 50, 52, 54, 56, 60, 63, 65, 69, 71, 74

Lindsey Lewis Smithson is the Editor of Straight Forward Poetry. Some of her poetry has appeared on The Nervous Breakdown, This Zine Will Change Your Life, The Cossack Review, and Every Writer’s Resource: Everyday Poems.

Hosho McCreesh's Guide to Books & Booze

Time to grab a book and get tipsy!

Back by popular demand, Books & Booze, originally a mini-series of sorts here on TNBBC challenges participating authors to make up their own drinks, name and all, or create a drink list for their characters and/or readers using drinks that already exist. 

Today, Hosho McCreesh takes on a drunken journey through his poetry collection A Deep & Gorgeous Thirst.

So, those of you who've read A Deep & Gorgeous Thirst know I have a Herculean task in front of me: narrowing the universe of drinking down to a few different tastes. Those who haven't read it yet -- when you do, you'll know what I mean. So, to keep this list from hurtling dangerously out of control, we need to decide -- first and foremost -- what kind of drinking we want to do? What do we hope to accomplish? Now that might sound a little highfalutin', but bear with me. Not all drinks (or reasons for them) are created equal. Different drinks serve very different, and specific purposes -- at least to my way of thinking. A skull-hammering cheap beer drunk is worlds different than that fuzzy, winter-chill, warm-by-the-fireplace wine buzz -- and it's important to know just what it is we're looking for from an evening's refreshment.

Here are a just couple drinks that feature in my book, plus the why and what of them.

Guinness Extra Stout:
Guinness is the go-to, the most versatile of beverages. A couple take the edge off a work-dulled day; and a whole grip get you numb but happy -- and sometimes even as accidentally wise as a poet.

A shortdog of Jameson:
One shortdog, and one shortdog only, per night -- while riding out some kind of fresh hell. This is a dangerous kind of drinking; done to numb some dark, hard, or painful chapter -- definitely done alone, but done wisely. See, a shortdog is just enough booze to get you drunk, make you stop caring for a while, but stops you short of that place where you'd just as soon watch the fucking world burn.


A measure of Lagavulin, neat, ice water back:
Poured in a sturdy yet simple highball glass, with exactly 3 cubes from the ice water dropped in to "wake it up a little." This a deep sniftof life well-lived, of victory well-earned. I usually have this when celebrating a new publication, a momentous life moment, or something like surviving a fist fight with a motorcycle gang.

Sake:
Usually with my brother: in Japan, at the Sumo matches, or watching Seven Samurai -- hoping, somehow, inexplicably, that the samurai can finally win.

Margaritas (from Casa de Benavidez):
These things are a catalyst, in the chemical sense. Add two and watch as the entire dreary, lackluster compound combusts into something joyous and redeemed. Then add a shit-ton more! 

*Note - Use caution if drinking with those aunts who usually get you cut off!

Wine:
Always red wine, two bottles and maybe a movie; something big and leathery, maybe on the dry side (because that's her favorite). And when the lead actress starts talking to an urn, shut the damn movie off and take her to bed. Dribble a shared swallow into her warm, waiting mouth as the cool evening blossoms around you both.


Tanqueray & Tonic:
One or two are acceptable -- they put every word you want to say right in your mouth when you need it; as my buddy says, "it's like you, only better!" Fourteen, however, is a double-fisted middle finger to the whole goddamned world. Exercise extreme caution with this cocktail. As I've never done that, I actually have no photo of this mysterious concoction.


Boat Drinks:
If you know what these are, then you know a small-press-nobody like me has never had one, and probably never will. That is, unless you can somehow convince a million or so people to buy my books. A boat drink is a drink, while out with your friends on your yacht, lolling about in International Waters -- because you're so ostentatiously wealthy that you now exist solely for drunken travel and enjoyment. So, in short -- a pipedream. 

Short of that pipedream coming true, get out there and support your favorite artists, poets, publishers, musicians, and maniacs -- either by buying their work, sharing it with someone, or, hell, just getting the next round. Sláinte!

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Hosho McCreesh is currently writing, painting, & working in the gypsum & caliche badlands of the American Southwest--only two of which he likes. His work has appeared widely in print, audio, & online. He can be cyber-stalked at www.hoshomccreesh.com

Book Review: The Last Weekend

Read 2/19/15 - 3/1/15
3 Stars - Recommended to fans of zombie lit that actually focuses more on the lit than the zombie
Pages: 215
Publisher: PS Publishing
Released: March 2014 (overseas)


How do you become a better writer? Apparently, you drink like a fish, sleep with a lot of chicks while your heart desires the one you can no longer have, develop a strong sense of self-loathing, and pray for a zombie apocalypse. That's what Nick Mamatas' The Last Weekend really boils down to.

A bit of a high-brower, this zombie novel is less about the zombies and more about the writer who's writing it.

Our protagonist, Vasilas "Billy" Kostopolis, is a bit of an introvert and a bar dweller in the before AND after times. Pre-apocalypse, he went out to observe and note and digest content for his stories. And though he wrote, he wasn't incredibly successful at it. After the world changed, the bars were where he went to kill time till the next call came in to protect the living and prepare the recently dead for eternal rest. Because in the after times, our boy Billy is what you called a "driller", summoned to the bedside of the dying and very-recently-dead to push a drill bit deep into their brains before they had a chance to reanimate.

Billy seems to have fun waving his education in all of our faces and spends a lot of time knocking around town, less concerned with the reanimated and more interested in making a nuisance of himself among the lady-kinds, gathering up experiences which are ultimately being relayed to us via his book. This book.

It's all incredibly meta. And not at all what I expected.

Honestly, I don't understand how Mamatas expected us to take the zombie apocalypse seriously when his own protagonist claims to remember the details of 9/11 better than the day the dead started to rise.

I mean, what're the chances that you'd be the dude who actually sleeps through the first few days of the apocalypse? Hungover and heart-broken, Billy awakens to his apartment door being beaten down by soldiers, him and everyone else in town forced to evacuate.

And to make it even more surreal, I'm not sure these are the types of things I would concern myself with, but when initially coming to terms with the whole "the dead are up and walking around" thing, Billy actually contemplates what it will mean to be a writer now that all of your competition is dead, not to mention all the other people like... oh you know... agents and bookstores and an audience to sell to.

He also ponders Yvette, his before-the-shit-hit-the-fan love, and Alexia, his current and floundering deep-in-the-shit love. He even has the gall to ponder his lack of romantic bedroom moves. Le sigh. The cares and concerns of a brain-driller during these strange, trying times.  

For the fun of it, Mamatas throws in a bit of secret city conspiracy stuff, in which our protag and his friends smoothly find themselves in the midst of, and then.... well, just when it feels like the book might start to really go somewhere, it all  sort of fizzles out.

And not to nitpick, but where did the title The Last Weekend come from? Unless I missed it completely, I'm not getting why it's the last weekend.

The whole zombie piece was treated with no more attention than a minor rodent infestation. Just one more hassle for the humans to have to deal with. Society seems intent to carry on regardless. Cell phones and the internet still function, for the most part. Twenty-somethings still find reasons to party. The beer still flows at the pubs. It was all a little too "struggling writer and woe-is-me"for my tastes. And it was a bit painful to read at times. I mean, I'm all for smart literature. But this was achingly-aware-of-itself smart literature (so many eye rolls, you guys) and the introverted tendencies of our guy Billy kept us so far removed from everything that he made it really difficult to empathize with the characters.

Overall, I found The Last Weekend to be lacking - a bit of a non-event, a fumbling bumbling addition to what is becoming an increasingly impressive sub-genre of apocalyptic fiction. While I can appreciate Mamatas' decision to separate himself from the pack, I don't think this book achieved what he set out to accomplish.

Page 69: The Prince of Infinite Space

We're kicking off a new series here at TNBBC, though it's not new to the world. The Page 69 Test has been around since 2007, asking authors to compare page 69 against the meat of the actual story it is a part of. I loved the whole idea of it and so I'm stealing it specifically to showcase small press titles - novels, novellas, short story collections, the works! So until the founder of The Page 69 Test calls a cease and desist, let's do this thing....

In this installment of Page 69, 

We put Giano Cromley's The Prince of Infinite Space to the test.

Ok Giano, set up page 69 for us:

The page 69 excerpt below is from my novel-in-progress The Prince of Infinite Space. Our protagonist, Kirby Russo, has never been very good at figuring out how to get along in the world. He’s seventeen and just starting his second year at Haverford Military Institute, after law a law-breaking escapade across Montana (which was the subject of my earlier novel The Last Good Halloween). At this point, Kirby has finally come to the realization that no matter how hard he tries, there’s no way he’ll be able to successfully follow the rules of life. As such, he’s decided his first course of action is to get himself kicked out of school. This page opens with him being sent to Dean Yellin’s office, for what Kirby hopes will be his dismissal from school.

Do you think this page gives our readers an accurate sense of what the book is about?

This page, though largely taken up by description of the dean’s office, happens to capture one of the major themes of this novel. Namely: Is there a way to make peace with the gap between what we hoped we’d be, and what we actually turn out to be?

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Page 69

The Prince of Infinite Space

On the wall behind him is a picture of President Bush, smiling in that insecure way he has, as if to admit that even though he oversaw the fall of communism he secretly knows he had nothing to do with it. Next to the Bush headshot is a black and white photo, taken at an odd angle, of two people shaking hands. After twisting my head to get a better view, I realize it's a very young, possibly idealistic, version of Dean Yellin shaking hands with a gleaming-toothed JFK.

The 1990 version of Dean Yellin is a paunchy guy with a mop of white hair that's definitely not military-grade. Rumor has it that, after finishing a tour in Vietnam, he became an antiwar protester — one of those guys who used to do sit-ins at administration buildings, before eventually settling down and acquiring a desk in one. I think that's why he always looks like a guy who's trying to impress everyone – the lefties andthe righties, as if both of their causes were compromised by his presence here.

"Mr. Russo," he says without turning from his green-glowing computer screen, "do you know why I called you here today?"

"I've got a pretty good idea," I tell him. "But do you know why I'm glad you called me in here today?"

This conversational curveball catches him off guard and he finally turns from his computer to look at me. I can tell he wants to take the bait and ask me why, but instead he flips open a manila folder on his desk and cocks his head to aim his bifocals at it. If he had taken the bait, we could have ended this kabuki dance before it even started.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Giano Cromley is the author of The Last Good Halloween. He lives in Chicago.

Book Review: Hall of Small Mammals

2/8/15 - 2/27/15
3 Stars - Recommended to fans of overly simplistic, sweetly strange short stories that have no beginning and no end
Audio: 8 hours, 35 mins
Publisher: Penguin Random House Audio
Narrator: MacLeod Andrews
Released: 2014




I listened to Thomas Pierce's Hall of Small Mammals on my commute to and from work. More and more I am finding that, though I love short story collections, they don't work well for me on audio. For starters, I'm not in the best frame of mind - I have to leave the house at 4:30 am so I'm kind of still half asleep when I start listening. I can't take notes because, well, I'm driving and it's dark out. And that would be dangerous. So by the time I park the car and walk into my office to start the day, most of what I've listened to has already begun to fade away.

In the evening, I spend the first five minutes of my drive home trying to (a) let go of all the work-bullshit so I can concentrate on the book and (b) remember what the heck MacLeod read to me that morning. Fun (not)! And kinda frustrating. Then I walk in the door, eat dinner, go to sleep, and promptly forget the story I was currently listening to.

Sigh.

While I am listening though, the book is an absolute pleasure. MacLeod has a wonderful reading voice and Pierce writes in simplistically short sentences. His characters are awkward and full of flaws, and you find yourself liking them immediately. They are ordinary people in some pretty extraordinary circumstances. You're fascinated by their dilemmas. You're rooting for it to all work out. Which is kind of fucked up because his stories, while drawing you in immediately, evolve quickly and end abruptly. Pierce, in my opinion, concerns himself much more with the 'telling' of the story than he does with the 'resolution' of the story. Then again, maybe his art is meant to imitate life. Much in life is left unresolved. Isn't it? And so, we the reader are treated as passers-by. We are given quick glimpses, experience mere slices, of their lives and are left forever guessing about how things turned out for everyone.

My favorite stories bookend the collection. The opening story, Shirley Temple Three, follows the sad and confusing life of a dwarf woolly mammoth, dubbed Shirley Temple by the man who cloned her. The final story, about a unwitting, brain damaged brother who follows his sister on a revenge mission, opens with the two of them hiding in a closet from two menacing dogs and thinking back over their own damaged relationship and the circumstances that brought them there.

Pierce has a knack for making odd situations appear completely normal through the use of well-timed snark and an absolute refusal to admit that the situations are, in fact, abnormally strange. These are stories everyone can sink their teeth into. A father and son heading off into the middle of the woods to camp out with a slightly cultish boy scout troop in Grashopper Kings. In The Real Alan Gass, a dude, after his girlfriend confesses that she's happily married in her dreams, becomes obsessed with tracking down her faux-hubby, convinced he's a real person. There's a story about a guy who takes his girlfriend's spoiled, snotty son to the zoo to see a monkey exhibit in the hopes of winning some brownie points. And another in which a strange woman updates a man on the ever changing whereabouts of his dead brother's quarantined body.

Pierce has mastered the middle of the story. Now someone just needs to teach him how to tell the beginning and the end.

Kelsey Reviews: Goodbye Babylon

Goodbye Babylon by Seb Doubinsky

3 Stars - Recommended to fans of experimental literature
Pages: 270
Publisher: Black Coffee Press
Released 2012

Guest reviewed by Kelsey Lueptow

Seb Doubinsky’s book Goodbye Babylon is a postmodern, experimental story with some fluctuating aspects of absurdism. It challenges historical and contemporary beliefs regarding literature, war, systems of ideology, and other power structures. As Michael Moorhead mentions in the introduction, “Seb Doubinsky . . . has an enthusiasm for the ridiculous.” That simple line breathes light on the instant and constant shock of form and content.

The most notable and enjoyable aspect of this novel is its shape-shifting form. At first glance from font to margins and chapters, this seems chaotic and unruly. In fact, the opposite turns out to be true. It is split into three sections with some unique storylines, characters, grammatical rules, and narrative games to different parts. Section one dips the toe into the stylistic realm of this book. It introduces wide margins, very short sub-chapters within longer divisions, and braided narrative perspectives that are unique but normal within the confines of this literary experience. At first it feels jarring, but then the rhythm sets in. Entering into the quirky style of this book also baptizes you into the world where dogs turn to fish, Wile E. Coyote is a psycho killer, and all the men are misogynists.

The physical absurdism of the first section comes from a protean, self-aware K-9 narrator woven into the mix; even more pervasive and absurd, however, is the terrifying misogyny in the male character’s voices. The only woman with a voice, a perspective, a purpose in life beyond serving men is, of course, the lesbian bitch Sheryl. Absurd. Even the dog hates the woman who embarrasses him by not letting him finish on her leg. The men habitually objectify and degrade the women around them—all the women around them. Through declarations of love, lust, and admiration, these same men demonstrate abusive mentality. Absurd, right? The writers are unsung heroes and sympathetic alcoholics. The military leaders are inspirational because they are ignorant of the true reasons for war. They are just doing their jobs. This basically sets up the rest of the story where even though the characters, points of view, and plots change everyone is just doing what they’ve always done. What they’re supposed to do.

The second and third sections reinforces the sensation of chaos by altering the formal rules, casts, and settings. This works to shift the ground beneath readers. The absurdism of the second section comes from some surreal dream communication and telepathy within a traditionally rational, empirical profession of detective work. The absurdism in the third section is the most pronounced: the ancient city of Babylon is a contemporary place that one could conceivably visit. However, the laws of murder, business, and literature are bizarrely linked in the city’s infrastructure.

Throughout the book, the seemingly chaotic and unruly form is actually highly restricted. Just as the margins are pressing the parameters of the page into tight, square boxes, the angle of the story and the information being pumped into the public is all restricted and edited before it is broadcast for consumption. Everything is viewed through the lenses of the criminal characters, the journalists, the film crew, the television screens. Accordingly, the brutally focused reporter Sheryl is the only character that transcends all sections of the book. With everything being so heavily filtered and controlled, the chaotic nonsensical messages that are actually carefully crafted.

Although there are incredibly intricate formal and thematic elements one could explore for days, I am giving this book 3 stars due to a few significantly restring features. First of all, the initial section is strewn with physical and psychological abuse of women—including a truly triggering rape scene. Although, as I mentioned before, I do believe that is constructed to move forth an ideological absurdism on which to base the book, it was very hard to read. I would assign it an explicit trigger warning. Beyond that, this book will appeal to an audience with very specific stylistic tastes for experimental literature. You really shouldn’t approach this book looking for a straightforward narrative plot or if you like to maintain your personal comfort.

Kelsey Lueptow is a mumma-writer at Diary of a First Time Mom and a graduate student at Northern Michigan University.

Page 69: Three Scenarios in Which Hana Sasaki Grows a Tail

We're kicking off a new series here at TNBBC, though it's not new to the world. The Page 69 Test has been around since 2007, asking authors to compare page 69 against the meat of the actual story it is a part of. I loved the whole idea of it and so I'm stealing it specifically to showcase small press titles - novels, novellas, short story collections, the works! So until the founder of The Page 69 Test calls a cease and desist, let's do this thing....

In this installment of Page 69, 

we put Kelly Luce’s Three Scenarios in Which Hana Sasaki Grows a Tail  to the test.

OK, Kelly, set up page 69 for us.

Page 69 falls right in the middle of a story called "Pioneers." It's about a married couple living in Japan--the wife, Yumiko, is Japanese, the husband, Lou, is Canadian. They're struggling with infertility and Yumi's previous abortion, as well as the installation of an unwanted western-style toilet (and accompanying work crew) in their apartment. Right before we get to this page, Yumiko and Lou spend a crappy day at the beach, and hope the work crew will be cleared out by the time they return home. Yumiko recalls Lou's least favorite thing about Japan: the bosozoku, or "noise gangs" and a time he climbed onto the roof and threw eggs at the bikers. 

What Three Scenarios in Which Hana Sasaki Grows a Tail is about:

Three Scenarios in Which Hana Sasaki Grows a Tailwill introduce you to many things—among them, an oracular toaster, a woman who grows a tail, and an extraordinary sex-change operation. Set in Japan, these stories tip into the fantastical, plumb the power of memory, and measure the human capacity to love.

Do you think this page gives our readers an accurate sense of what the collection is about? Does it align itself the collection’s theme?

 This page does hit on some of the book's themes. The absurd situations one finds oneself in when living in a foreign country--Lou would probably not be throwing eggs at teenagers or sleeping on the roof back in Canada--and the fragile web that is marital communication. The fact that Lou and Yumiko were raised in different cultures, and talk to each other in his native language, not hers, adds layers to the relationship that were fun to peel back. Communication and connection--or lack thereof--comes up a lot in these stories. Many of the characters have a deep sense of longing: longing to know the future, even if it means listening to a psychic toaster ("Ms. Yamada's Toaster"), longing for a lost sibling so strong it's literally transformative ("Rooey") and the dual longing to be unique, yet part of something that--who knows?--might lead one to grow a tail. 

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Page 69

Three Scenarios in Which Hana Sasaki Grows a Tail

After some confusion and yelling, the roar of engines faded. Smiling in the dark, she thought: a Japanese man would never have done that.

“He took out the toilet!” he called.

“Yeah,” Yumiko said slowly, “he mentioned putting a new one in.”

“You knew about this?”

She shrugged. “Only since the morning. It will take a little longer, but won’t it be nice to have a normal, you know . . . king’s chair?”

“Throne. It would be nicer to not have my house torn apart.”

“Miura-san thinks he was doing something nice for you.”

“I don’t need a special potty because I’m a gaijin.”

“It will be nice for me too, recently most places don’t use—”

“And he’ll expect me to be so grateful,” Lou went on, and bowed deeply, throwing his arms out to his sides.

“Yes, I’m so indebted to you, I can’t use my kitchen, my apartment’s flooded, and everything reeks.”

“We could go to my parents’ home. They really— what?” He was staring at the metal ladder that led to the roof, looking suddenly enlightened. He said, “No. We’re definitely staying here.”

“You have an idea.”

“We’ll move onto the roof.” He rubbed his hands together. 

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Kelly Luce's story collection, Three Scenarios in Which Hana Sasaki Grows a Tail (A Strange Object) won the 2013 Foreword Review’s Editors Choice Prize in Fiction. Her work has appeared in the Salon, O Magazine, Crazyhorse, American Short Fiction, Electric Literature, and other publications. She’s the editorial assistant for the O. Henry Prize anthology and editor-in-chief of Bat City Review. She hails from Illinois and currently lives in Austin, TX.

Book Giveaway: Grundish and Askew

Since July 2010, TNBBC has been bringing authors and readers together every month to get behind the book! This unique experience wouldn't be possible without the generous donations of the authors and publishers involved.

It's the first of the month and you know what that means.

It's time to bring you April's Author/Reader Discussion Book!

We will be reading and discussing Grundish and Askew

with Lance Carbuncle

CONTENT ADVISORY: 

This book contains some pretty explicit language.

If you've got a great sense of humor about raunchy content, this book will be perfect for you!!

Lance Carbuncle has generously made 21 copies of his book available:

10 audio downloads, 10 ebooks, and 1 signed print copy to one lucky winner! 

Here's the goodreads description of the book:

Strap on your athletic cup and grab a barf bag. The Dr. Reverend Lance Carbuncle is going to kick you square in the balls and send you on a wild ride that may or may not answer the following questions: what happens when two white trash, trailer park-dwelling, platonic life partners go on a moronic and misdirected crime spree?; can their manly love for each other endure when one of them suffers a psychological bitch-slap that renders him a homicidal maniac?; will a snaggletoothed teenage prostitute tear them apart?; what is the best way to use a dead illegal alien to your advantage in a hostage situation?; what's that smell?; and, what the hell is Alf the Sacred Burro coughing up? Carbuncle's latest offering, Grundish and Askew, ponders these troubling questions and more. So sit down, put on some protective goggles, and get ready for Carbuncle to blast you in the face with a warm load of fictitious sickness. Reader Views 2009 Literary Awards, First Place, Humor Category - This book could easily be the sleeper of the year Reviewer Magazine - an imaginative, almost hallucinatory tale of madness, traveling and free spirits doing what they want. The Daily Loaf - Think of those grungy, maggoty knuckle-dragging villains in Carl Hiaasen and Tim Dorsey novels. Those morons are *%#*ing Osmond family teasippers compared to the crew Carbuncle has created.

This giveaway will run through March 9th. 

Winners will be announced here and via email on March 10th.

Here's how to enter:

1 - Leave a comment here or in the giveaway thread over at TNBBC on goodreads, stating what format you prefer (choose one option from above).

2 - State that you agree to participate in the group read book discussion that will run from April 20th through the 26th. Lance Carbuncle has agreed to participate in the discussion and will be available to answer any questions you may have for him. 

 3 - Your comment must have a way to contact you (email is preferred). 

ONLY COMMENT ONCE. MULTIPLE COMMENTS DO NOT GAIN YOU ADDITIONAL CHANCES TO WIN.

 *If you are chosen as a winner, by accepting the copy you are agreeing to read the book and join the group discussion at TNBBC on Goodreads (the thread for the discussion will be emailed to you before the discussion begins). 

GOOD LUCK!

Kate Reviews: Craving

Craving by Esther Gerritsen, translated by Michele Hutchison

5 stars – Highly Recommended by Kate

Pages: 177

Publisher: World Editions

Released: Jan 2015

Guest review by Kate Vane

Some books draw you in with an intriguing premise, extraordinary characters or dramatic locations. I’m just as fascinated by writers who create something entrancing out of the everyday.

Craving is the story of an apparently ordinary family in an unnamed Dutch town. It begins when Elisabeth has a chance meeting in the street with her adult daughter, Coco. Elisabeth takes the opportunity to tell her some important news – she is dying.

The dark humour of the book is immediately apparent. Coco cycles away, filled with excitement at the news, calculating how she can manipulate it for her own ends. Elisabeth is left with an awkward sense that she hasn’t quite dealt with this as she should.

Elisabeth is described by her family as having autism. She struggles to negotiate the complexities of her relationships with her ex-husband and daughter. She feels more at ease with her hairdresser.

Coco soon moves back into her mother’s home. This is less an act of compassion than an attempt to provoke her boyfriend, whose interest in her is waning. When mother and daughter are thrown together, the tensions between them are highlighted. Coco constantly seeks sensation – overeating, sex in public, petty acts of destruction. Elisabeth longs for calm and order. Coco wants answers about her past but for Elisabeth the questions make no sense. 

The author of Cravingis also a playwright and this book has some of the feel of a stage play. It takes place in a small number of locations and the encounters between the characters are tightly drawn. Elisabeth’s inability to understand the dynamics of her family is at times poignant, at others funny and occasionally enviable. While those around her are weighted down with guilt and empathy, she is free to say what she thinks – with comic consequences.

However, the author also takes us deep into the characters. She shows the ways that Elisabeth and Coco have shaped each other. In particular, she gives us a sense of what it would be like to be Elisabeth – what she sees, what she fails to understand but also the perceptions she has that others lack – her faithful memory, her sense of the texture of things, the taste and scent of emotions and events.

I was almost afraid to get to the end. I didn’t want melodrama, but nor did I want another literary novel which is beautifully written but unresolved. I needn’t have worried. In keeping with the rest the end is subtle but startling.

Kate Vane writes crime and literary fiction. Her latest novel is Not the End. 

Jessica Goodfellow Recommends The Book of a Hundred Hands

Writers Recommend is a series where we ask writers to, well, you know.. recommend things. Like the books that they've enjoyed. To you. Because who doesn't like being recommended new and interesting books, right?! Think of it as a PSA. Only it's more like a LSA -Literary Service Announcement. Your welcome. 

Jessica Goodfellow Recommends The Book of a Hundred Hands

I recommend reading the work of Cole Swensen, a poet who enters each of her subjects so deeply as to inhabit it, but who then leaves it to the reader as an abandoned and haunted house. Each of Swensen’s books has its singular ephemeral obsession: for example, Gravesend (University of California Press, 2012) is possessed by ghosts, The Glass Age (Alice James Books, 2007) revolves around (what else?) glass and windows, and National Book Award finalistGoest (Alice James Books, 2004) tries to capture light in its hands.

  

Speaking of hands, perhaps the most accessible of Swensen’s books is The Book of a Hundred Hands (University of Iowa Press, 2005), perhaps because its subject matter, hands, is one of the least ephemeral among her topics. These one hundred poems include ruminations on history, anatomy, basic functions such as gripping and grasping, hand gestures, handwriting, shadow puppets, art-making, and sign language. One of the sign language poems, “Thinking and Feeling,” begins “For instance, happy. That’s far away. So we gesture a little to the right of the head / in the sensation of / I couldn’t say. / A chime in a cell.”  Swensen uses jagged and staggered spacing along with wildly varying line lengths to mimic the movement of hands sweeping here, then pausing over there to form intricate finger movements. The poem ends with “We place / an inch and a half behind your left shoulder / a bird the size of a thumbtack. / You have to keep it happy forever.”

Swensen’s subjects are clearly researched with rigor, and yet her fragmented lines and loosely tethered imagery reveal only the essence of hands, ghosts, glass—whatever the graspless subject is. There’s a certain egolessness to having done all that work, but then winnowing one’s labors to an evocative nucleus. As a result, the reader gets the benefit of Swensen’s fixations with none of the accompanying mania. Well, maybe a bit of the mania. Enjoy!

Poems available online from The Book of a Hundred Hands include:

“The Hand’s Testament” (http://www.cstone.net/~poems/handsswe.htm)

“The Hand Photographed” and “The Hand Etched in Glass” (http://thepoetryexperiment.blogspot.jp/2005/08/cole-swensen-two-poems.html)

“The Hand Painted In” and “The Hands Testify” http://jacketmagazine.com/19/swe1.html

“The Hand Defined: I” http://www.conjunctions.com/archives/c35-cs.htm

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Jessica Goodfellow’s books are Mendeleev’s Mandala (Mayapple Press, 2015), The Insomniac’s Weather Report (Three Candles Press First Book Prize winner, reissued by Isobar Press, 2014), and the chapbook A Pilgrim’s Guide to Chaos in the Heartland (Concrete Wolf, 2006).  Her work has been featured in Best New Poets, Verse Daily, The Writer’s Almanac, and forthcoming in Motionpoems Season 6. She has received the Chad Walsh Poetry Prize from the Beloit Poetry Journal. A graduate of Caltech, she lives in Japan.