I almost decided not to write review of any kind for Samuel Delany's most recent novel, Dark Reflections. Not because I didn't like it---I loved it. But it came out about a year ago and received pretty favorable reviews in both the Washington Post and the New York Times. But the more I dug around for opinions on the book the less I found. Review mags like Rain Taxi, which usually do a good job at picking out works like this, pretty much ignored it. And with the exception of a thoughtful review by Steven Shaviro, most of the comments online are by sf fans who are peeved that it's not an sf novel.
In short, the novel is a biographical portrait of Arnold Hawley, a gay, black poet living in NY City. It's structure is mildly experimental; the novel is broken into three sections, each exploring a different period of his life and moving backwards in time. Each section could easily work as a strong novella, but together they create a moving image of a unique man.
The opening section focuses on his late adult life. Although I could paraphrase it for you, it's probably best to have it laid out in Delany's own words:
In 1987's rainy October, when squirrels stopped, stared, then sprinted along the bench-backs away from the kids with the earrings, combat boots, and dog collars, who for more than fifteen years now had been hanging out in Tompkins Square Park, Arnold's sixth book of poems, Beleaguered Fields, won the Alfred Proctor Prize---an award given once every three years that concerned a small circle of New York poets and men and women of letters. In the late afternoon of the day he received the news, as he walked home through the park, a wind gusted among the wet leaves, for moments making a rising roar, like the cheer of thousands.....Arnold smiled....acknowledging playfully the world's recognition. (3)
The Proctor Prize allows Arnold to quit the civil servant job he hates and take a teaching position at a small college---where he happily works with a small cut in salary. The section moves forward to his retirement years later, and we see Arnold struggle with the odd hypocrisies of the publishing world when he's asked to write a blurb for a young up-and-coming poet putting out work he doesn't respect.
The second section focuses on Arnold's life in his thirties, and his brief marriage to a suicidal homeless woman. The third section moves back further to his late twenties and his early days in college fighting with the realization that he's gay. We see some powerful scenes where he's disturbingly attracted to a well hung but mentally challenged man. Against all better judgement Arnold follows his desire into a run down section of New York, but when he's finally given the opportunity to explore his sexuality he runs away.
Although poetry isn't quite the focus with these other two sections, writing is still a vital part of the story. He meets his wife while writing a poem on a park bench, and we see some lovely moments of his life when he's inspired to write. Much of his daily struggle centers around finding that balance between making a living and following his dream to publish brilliant poems. Arnold is a man who lives, breathes and loves poetry and, although Arnold is very different from Delany, it's hard not to think of Delany himself at these moments.
As much as sex is a part of this novel, Arnold is confoundingly asexual. A number of Delany's books, Hogg especially, are noted for their strong pornographic scenes. Dark Reflections features pimps graphically pitching their wares, poetic descriptions of homo-erotic photography, and a number of other bizarre situations. The moments he gets closest to experiencing sex, something outlandish occurs that puts an end to it: his wife commits suicide, he thinks he's caught in a blackmail scheme, etc, etc. And while we know as readers that Arnold has had sex, we never actually see him having sex. This seems important to the novel somehow, although I'm not quite smart enough to figure out exactly why.
One thing at the novel's core is how Arnold continually explores his identity as a gay, black poet and questions what it means. He's a black man who enjoys country music, and gay man who doesn't pursue sex, and a poet who explores themes beyond the normal bounds of what it means to black and gay. It makes Arnold more than a character; it makes him a human dreaming the dream to be what he can despite the obstacles thrown in front of him. It's this thread of the novel that ties it together, makes everything work, and brings what's probably Delany's most accessible novel in years.
Tor or any other major SF publisher would likely pull a dumptruck full of money to Delany's home if he ever broke down and wrote the SF novel fans of Babel-17 and Stars in My Pocket Like Grains of Sand clamor for. Instead what we get is the novel Delany wanted to write, and a beautiful one it is.
Excelsior
Showing posts with label Mainstream Fiction. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Mainstream Fiction. Show all posts
Tuesday, November 06, 2007
Sunday, September 23, 2007
Review: Redemption by Lee Jackson
Redemption is a near-future thriller, with its portrayal of a U.S. frightened enough by terrorism to cut back nearly all civil liberties, proves a fair debut for Lee Jackson. The story opens with Ben Trinity, a former college professor arrested for funding a terrorist group, hitchhiking to the west coast. Heading out to start a new job as part of his parole, a snowstorm forces him to stay the night in Redemption, Montana and miss his appointment. After getting permission from his parole officer Trinity takes a job as a handy man at a local diner. His first few days are easy; Trinity works hard and endears himself to the locals. But word leaks out about his past and what began as a simple character piece moves quickly into a political thriller. The locals fear Trinity, speak out vocally against his living there and even threatening his life. As his situation turns from bad to worse it becomes clear that Trinity is being set up to take a fall and, perhaps, even be killed by a faction within the government. The only way for him to survive is to make the truth about his past fully public and let the court of public opinion decide for itself.
As a central character Trinity moves from mysterious to likable as his innocence becomes apparent. Unfortunately, the secondary characters don’t quite have the same feel, reading more like stock character types like the closed-minded sheriff and the sweet-but-cautious love interest. There’s also odd inclusion of two short passages written in the point of view of a teen-age girl with a crush on Trinity. Kids are hard to write well, and Jackson seems to have forgotten most of what’s it like to be a teen. It’s all slang, and while teens certainly use slang they don’t sound like a walking text message. At least not yet.
SF readers will be let down a bit that the futuristic elements are confined to laws and technologies that limit the freedom of citizens in the name of government protection. While these aspects are well done, it would have been nice to see some other pieces of the future beyond what worked within his political theme. On the plus side, though, it makes this world feel very close to our own. In fact, the most haunting aspect of the novel is how close to current reality Trinity’s situation is; it’s not hard to imagine the circumstances of an innocent man’s life torn apart in the name of protecting the public.
Set in a thriller-style plot, Jackson’s fast-paced writing works in large part to get across his own political ideas. Even though I agree with his perspective on civil rights, there were many points in the story that I wanted something else to grab on to. Overall, I found this a fun read and, in some small ways, even provocative. Although it’s not likely I’ll read this one again I’ll definitely keep an eye out for his next book.
Excelsior
As a central character Trinity moves from mysterious to likable as his innocence becomes apparent. Unfortunately, the secondary characters don’t quite have the same feel, reading more like stock character types like the closed-minded sheriff and the sweet-but-cautious love interest. There’s also odd inclusion of two short passages written in the point of view of a teen-age girl with a crush on Trinity. Kids are hard to write well, and Jackson seems to have forgotten most of what’s it like to be a teen. It’s all slang, and while teens certainly use slang they don’t sound like a walking text message. At least not yet.
SF readers will be let down a bit that the futuristic elements are confined to laws and technologies that limit the freedom of citizens in the name of government protection. While these aspects are well done, it would have been nice to see some other pieces of the future beyond what worked within his political theme. On the plus side, though, it makes this world feel very close to our own. In fact, the most haunting aspect of the novel is how close to current reality Trinity’s situation is; it’s not hard to imagine the circumstances of an innocent man’s life torn apart in the name of protecting the public.
Set in a thriller-style plot, Jackson’s fast-paced writing works in large part to get across his own political ideas. Even though I agree with his perspective on civil rights, there were many points in the story that I wanted something else to grab on to. Overall, I found this a fun read and, in some small ways, even provocative. Although it’s not likely I’ll read this one again I’ll definitely keep an eye out for his next book.
Excelsior
Friday, November 24, 2006
Review: Jack Absolute
For inspiration for his series of historical thriller/adventure stories author C.C. Humphreys reached back into literary history to a comedy popular in the late 1700’s, a play by James Sheridan called The Rivals. A comedy of mistaken identity and romance that ends in a heated duel, The Rivals was immensely popular both in Sheridan’s native England and in the colonies that would become the United States a few years later. It was even a favorite of George Washington.
Humphreys takes the main character of the “The Rivals”----a quick witted British soldier of wealth named Jack Absolute---and fleshes him out with codebreaking skills and knowledge of and sympathies for the natives of North America. At the starting point of the novel Jack Absolute, Absolute himself is pushing past middle age and trying to grow beyond his youthful days of wild adventure. He’s shifted his focus from pioneering and soldiering in the Americas to running business ventures in India, both to make some money and to renew honor to his family his own disreputable father lost decades earlier.
But this is also the midway point of the American Revolution. Absolute is pressured to drop his business activities by the British General Burgoyne, who wants to employ Absolute’s skills in codebreaking and espionage as well as exploit Absolute’s contacts with the native population of the Americas. With his Mohawk friend Até in tow, Absolute sets out to convince the various tribes to join with Britain in suppressing the revolt of the colonials. Along the way he trips through the battle of Saratoga, falls in love with the beautiful daughter of a colonial businessman and, finally, uncovers the main plot. Through his codebreaking Absolute learns of a secret organization called the Illuminati that seeks to cause destruction and demoralization on both sides of the conflict in the colonies, enabled them to pick up the pieces and rebuild the society with their own ideals.
Humphreys handles the historical aspects fairly well for what is essentially a pop-novel. We here state side don’t often read things from the Brit point of view of the Revolution, and he does a good job getting across those feelings. Seperatists, rebels, traitors….many of the same name calling and finger pointing that occurred then occured again during the US Civil War. The battle details don’t shy away from portraying death and violence, but do so without glorifying it or making it excessively gory. Appearances by minor historical characters like James Sheridan, General Burgoyne and Benedict Arnold add some thin layers of authenticity and color to the tale. Even the Illuminati plot makes some nice references to Masonic Rites and to the societal revolt in Bavaria led by Adam Weishaupt.
You do have to suspend a bit of disbelief when it comes to Absolute himself. All of his narrow escapes and fantastic skills reminds me of no other character more than James Bond----not surprisingly this novel was subtitled the 007 of the 1700’s when it first appeared in the UK a few years ago. He openly supports the ideas of the colonials but can’t separate himself from his loyalty to the crown. This unique fence sitting makes his perspective on the revolution fresh in that he sees villains on both sides of the conflict and provides a nice layer of complication to both is character and the direction of the novel.
The weakest aspect of the novel is that it tries to be all things to all people. The Illuminati plot lot functions like a mystery; while Humphreys works in some nice red herrings when we finally get to the master of the diabolical plot it is somewhat of a letdown (I won’t say exactly why, since that would spoil the ending). The historical aspects are nicely done, but probably don’t dig deep enough for someone wanting a full portrayal of the times and all the issues involved in the Revolutionary War.
The main reason---really the only reason---to read this novel is to watch Absolute in all his exploits: slick escapes colonial jails, codebreaking, sword duels. No matter how improbable they all are, they sure are fun to read.
Excelsior
Humphreys takes the main character of the “The Rivals”----a quick witted British soldier of wealth named Jack Absolute---and fleshes him out with codebreaking skills and knowledge of and sympathies for the natives of North America. At the starting point of the novel Jack Absolute, Absolute himself is pushing past middle age and trying to grow beyond his youthful days of wild adventure. He’s shifted his focus from pioneering and soldiering in the Americas to running business ventures in India, both to make some money and to renew honor to his family his own disreputable father lost decades earlier.
But this is also the midway point of the American Revolution. Absolute is pressured to drop his business activities by the British General Burgoyne, who wants to employ Absolute’s skills in codebreaking and espionage as well as exploit Absolute’s contacts with the native population of the Americas. With his Mohawk friend Até in tow, Absolute sets out to convince the various tribes to join with Britain in suppressing the revolt of the colonials. Along the way he trips through the battle of Saratoga, falls in love with the beautiful daughter of a colonial businessman and, finally, uncovers the main plot. Through his codebreaking Absolute learns of a secret organization called the Illuminati that seeks to cause destruction and demoralization on both sides of the conflict in the colonies, enabled them to pick up the pieces and rebuild the society with their own ideals.
Humphreys handles the historical aspects fairly well for what is essentially a pop-novel. We here state side don’t often read things from the Brit point of view of the Revolution, and he does a good job getting across those feelings. Seperatists, rebels, traitors….many of the same name calling and finger pointing that occurred then occured again during the US Civil War. The battle details don’t shy away from portraying death and violence, but do so without glorifying it or making it excessively gory. Appearances by minor historical characters like James Sheridan, General Burgoyne and Benedict Arnold add some thin layers of authenticity and color to the tale. Even the Illuminati plot makes some nice references to Masonic Rites and to the societal revolt in Bavaria led by Adam Weishaupt.
You do have to suspend a bit of disbelief when it comes to Absolute himself. All of his narrow escapes and fantastic skills reminds me of no other character more than James Bond----not surprisingly this novel was subtitled the 007 of the 1700’s when it first appeared in the UK a few years ago. He openly supports the ideas of the colonials but can’t separate himself from his loyalty to the crown. This unique fence sitting makes his perspective on the revolution fresh in that he sees villains on both sides of the conflict and provides a nice layer of complication to both is character and the direction of the novel.
The weakest aspect of the novel is that it tries to be all things to all people. The Illuminati plot lot functions like a mystery; while Humphreys works in some nice red herrings when we finally get to the master of the diabolical plot it is somewhat of a letdown (I won’t say exactly why, since that would spoil the ending). The historical aspects are nicely done, but probably don’t dig deep enough for someone wanting a full portrayal of the times and all the issues involved in the Revolutionary War.
The main reason---really the only reason---to read this novel is to watch Absolute in all his exploits: slick escapes colonial jails, codebreaking, sword duels. No matter how improbable they all are, they sure are fun to read.
Excelsior
Friday, September 08, 2006
Review: Wolfboy
This review for Evan Kuhlman’s Wolfboy was tough for me to write. There’s a lot about this novel that I liked, but every time I wrote a review it came across as largely negative. Which wasn’t how I felt at all while reading it. I say this with a word of warning to the reader, and as an apology to Mr. Kuhlman in the unlikely event he stumbles through here. I think I’ve worked out all the kinks, but it’s quite possible I didn’t.
This novel, set in the early 1990’s, opens with the death of Francis Harrelson. Or, rather, it opens just after the death of Francis Harrelson, who dies in a car crash one snowy night on his way back to college after winter break. The following 300 or so pages focus on the four remaining members of the family and how they make those first difficult steps towards recovery.
Each one of them deals with the loss of Francis in their own special way. Mom, who looked to Francis as her closest friend, has trouble dealing with the anger. She eventually becomes violent after a computer error causes the county to send her multiple copies of her son’s death notice. The father retreats to his job at his handmade furniture store and has an affair with his accountant. Little sister Crispy dives headfirst into an obsession with Marky Mark. Yes, of the Funky Bunch. Although just a little girl her obsession drives her to run away from home on her bicycle with hopes of meeting him in person at a concert several hundred miles away, thinking he’ll not only fall in love with her but take her away from all the difficulties at home.
And then there’s Stephen, who is the main character of this story if there is one. Smart, athletic, confident---Francis was the pinnacle of older brothers and, naturally, Stephen idolized him. After his brother died Stephen became angry with everyone and everything. Angry at the driver who killed Francis, angry his parents for not being able to stop it, and even angry at God for letting his brother die when he still had so much life to live. The characters are all well developed, especially Stephen and Crispy. Kuhlman has a real knack for conveying the odd mixture of intelligence and confusion kids so often have. The adults sometimes come off a little more as types, but there involvement in the story is much smaller so it didn’t bother me particularly.
About 1/3 into the story, Stephen’s mother sends him to talk to the town minister to help get out his feelings. The minister counsels young Stephen to find a creative outlet for his feelings. Being a kid just entering the confusing life of a teenager, Stephen picks an art form he knows and loves: comic books. He develops some wild stories about a teenager named Wolfboy who can turn into a werewolf and uses his powers to fight crime throughout the universe. After getting the first couple of tales scripted out he convinces his talented girlfriend Nicole (who I would have been madly in love with as a teen) into doing the artwork. They work together, create a few issues and even sell some through the local bookstore. Kuhlman includes a few of their strips as the main gimmick or hook of the novel.
I give Kuhlman credit for developing comic book storylines that are both thoughtful and funny; the comic book tales included are an odd pastiche of ideas borrowed from comics writers like Paul Chadwick (Concrete) and Kurt Busiek (Astro City) who recreate the superhero genre with a light touch of indie flair. The artwork done by Brendan and Brian Fraim is all black and white, its hard lines with dramatic frames and poses making a link with superhero comics done in the late 80’s and early 90’s (pre-Todd MacFarlane, for fellow comics geeks). Which makes sense, because it’s the style both Stephen and Nicole would have grown up with and known.
As the comic book part of the novel progresses it becomes an obvious mirror for Stephen’s own life. Wolfboy loses his own brother and faces many of the same feelings and frustrations Stephen feels. At one point Wolfboy questions God and finds that God is likewise torn apart with anguish of his own so severely he can’t help anyone on Earth. Wolfboy’s mother, who we find out is really an android, is overwhelmed by the loss of her son and the pain causes her circuitry to short out. The reference to Stephen’s own mother becomes increasingly obvious as the main story continues. This is the real magic of the book. While the inclusion of comics in his novel may seem gimmicky on the surface but the way Kuhlman uses the gimmick proves very effective and moving. By treating comics as serious artform, albeit in a fun way, Kuhlman shows us the power of the creative process and how it can help us not just get though the painful moments of life but also reach some level of understanding.
The one real failing of the book is that I wanted more. Multiple viewpoints and only getting to see the family for about a year’s time only lets Kuhlman get so deep into the powerful issues he’s digging into. The novel could have been more powerful if it focused more on Stephen and didn’t include the distractions of the other characters. But by the end we do get a sense that Harrelsons, and Stephen in particular, will not just be moving on but will find a way to learn from Francis’s death to better themselves. What we see is fabulous; it’s just unfortunate that we don’t get to see the journey continue a little further.
Excelsior
This novel, set in the early 1990’s, opens with the death of Francis Harrelson. Or, rather, it opens just after the death of Francis Harrelson, who dies in a car crash one snowy night on his way back to college after winter break. The following 300 or so pages focus on the four remaining members of the family and how they make those first difficult steps towards recovery.
Each one of them deals with the loss of Francis in their own special way. Mom, who looked to Francis as her closest friend, has trouble dealing with the anger. She eventually becomes violent after a computer error causes the county to send her multiple copies of her son’s death notice. The father retreats to his job at his handmade furniture store and has an affair with his accountant. Little sister Crispy dives headfirst into an obsession with Marky Mark. Yes, of the Funky Bunch. Although just a little girl her obsession drives her to run away from home on her bicycle with hopes of meeting him in person at a concert several hundred miles away, thinking he’ll not only fall in love with her but take her away from all the difficulties at home.
And then there’s Stephen, who is the main character of this story if there is one. Smart, athletic, confident---Francis was the pinnacle of older brothers and, naturally, Stephen idolized him. After his brother died Stephen became angry with everyone and everything. Angry at the driver who killed Francis, angry his parents for not being able to stop it, and even angry at God for letting his brother die when he still had so much life to live. The characters are all well developed, especially Stephen and Crispy. Kuhlman has a real knack for conveying the odd mixture of intelligence and confusion kids so often have. The adults sometimes come off a little more as types, but there involvement in the story is much smaller so it didn’t bother me particularly.
About 1/3 into the story, Stephen’s mother sends him to talk to the town minister to help get out his feelings. The minister counsels young Stephen to find a creative outlet for his feelings. Being a kid just entering the confusing life of a teenager, Stephen picks an art form he knows and loves: comic books. He develops some wild stories about a teenager named Wolfboy who can turn into a werewolf and uses his powers to fight crime throughout the universe. After getting the first couple of tales scripted out he convinces his talented girlfriend Nicole (who I would have been madly in love with as a teen) into doing the artwork. They work together, create a few issues and even sell some through the local bookstore. Kuhlman includes a few of their strips as the main gimmick or hook of the novel.
I give Kuhlman credit for developing comic book storylines that are both thoughtful and funny; the comic book tales included are an odd pastiche of ideas borrowed from comics writers like Paul Chadwick (Concrete) and Kurt Busiek (Astro City) who recreate the superhero genre with a light touch of indie flair. The artwork done by Brendan and Brian Fraim is all black and white, its hard lines with dramatic frames and poses making a link with superhero comics done in the late 80’s and early 90’s (pre-Todd MacFarlane, for fellow comics geeks). Which makes sense, because it’s the style both Stephen and Nicole would have grown up with and known.
As the comic book part of the novel progresses it becomes an obvious mirror for Stephen’s own life. Wolfboy loses his own brother and faces many of the same feelings and frustrations Stephen feels. At one point Wolfboy questions God and finds that God is likewise torn apart with anguish of his own so severely he can’t help anyone on Earth. Wolfboy’s mother, who we find out is really an android, is overwhelmed by the loss of her son and the pain causes her circuitry to short out. The reference to Stephen’s own mother becomes increasingly obvious as the main story continues. This is the real magic of the book. While the inclusion of comics in his novel may seem gimmicky on the surface but the way Kuhlman uses the gimmick proves very effective and moving. By treating comics as serious artform, albeit in a fun way, Kuhlman shows us the power of the creative process and how it can help us not just get though the painful moments of life but also reach some level of understanding.
The one real failing of the book is that I wanted more. Multiple viewpoints and only getting to see the family for about a year’s time only lets Kuhlman get so deep into the powerful issues he’s digging into. The novel could have been more powerful if it focused more on Stephen and didn’t include the distractions of the other characters. But by the end we do get a sense that Harrelsons, and Stephen in particular, will not just be moving on but will find a way to learn from Francis’s death to better themselves. What we see is fabulous; it’s just unfortunate that we don’t get to see the journey continue a little further.
Excelsior
Friday, May 12, 2006
DC Dark and Dirty
Once when I went to Cleveland for a writer’s conference I met a lot of people who were surprised and even mystified that I lived in DC –at the time I lived near Dupont Circle. To these people DC was the capital city of the nation, the seat of government and a home for shady politics. Several didn’t even know that people actually lived in DC and those who did asked me how often-not if but how often-I saw the president. I told them the truth: that I see him every night on the TV news.
It’s not necessarily their fault that they have all these misunderstandings about DC. The way the city is portrayed in literature and movies it’s easy to think DC is little more than the capital building, the National Mall, and the Lincoln Memorial with the swanky houses and restaurants of Georgetown squeezed in-between. With all this skewed coverage and perspective it’s nice to see an anthology like DC Noir pulling together stories that create a much more realistic-albeit dark and gritty-portrait of DC.
Edited by local crime fiction author George Pelecanos, the book does a phenomenal job presenting the different neighborhoods and wide variety of residents of DC. From congressional aids on capital hill to petty thieves in Hill East, it shows that DC is a city where people live, struggle and die every day.
As a whole the book holds up a pretty grim view on life. Life for the average person is hard and it only gets harder when your life intersects with the criminal world. College students confronting big time drug dealers, a reporter covering the riots in the Mt. Pleasant neighborhood, a store owner defending his business from teenage vandal are just some of the gritty yet thrilling challenges. The one story that goes against this is Laura Lippmann’s “A.R.M. and the Woman”; a divorced housewife decides the only way she can hold onto the lifestyle she’s grown used to is by killing her ex-husband and collecting on the insurance money.
Many of the authors in the anthology are not known for fiction; aside from pulling from the normal channels of novelists and short fiction writers Pelecanos used his contacts in television and journalism to bring in writers who carry in their own unique experiences and styles to the page. Each story, regardless of the writer’s background, is taught, grim and thrilling fiction. My only complaint is that one major facet of DC is missing: tourists. Focusing on the local residents is great, but love them or hate them tourists do make up a large part of the feel of our beloved DC. But perhaps wanting to see some naïve tourist get caught up in something dangerous is my own issue.
Excelsior
It’s not necessarily their fault that they have all these misunderstandings about DC. The way the city is portrayed in literature and movies it’s easy to think DC is little more than the capital building, the National Mall, and the Lincoln Memorial with the swanky houses and restaurants of Georgetown squeezed in-between. With all this skewed coverage and perspective it’s nice to see an anthology like DC Noir pulling together stories that create a much more realistic-albeit dark and gritty-portrait of DC.
Edited by local crime fiction author George Pelecanos, the book does a phenomenal job presenting the different neighborhoods and wide variety of residents of DC. From congressional aids on capital hill to petty thieves in Hill East, it shows that DC is a city where people live, struggle and die every day.
As a whole the book holds up a pretty grim view on life. Life for the average person is hard and it only gets harder when your life intersects with the criminal world. College students confronting big time drug dealers, a reporter covering the riots in the Mt. Pleasant neighborhood, a store owner defending his business from teenage vandal are just some of the gritty yet thrilling challenges. The one story that goes against this is Laura Lippmann’s “A.R.M. and the Woman”; a divorced housewife decides the only way she can hold onto the lifestyle she’s grown used to is by killing her ex-husband and collecting on the insurance money.
Many of the authors in the anthology are not known for fiction; aside from pulling from the normal channels of novelists and short fiction writers Pelecanos used his contacts in television and journalism to bring in writers who carry in their own unique experiences and styles to the page. Each story, regardless of the writer’s background, is taught, grim and thrilling fiction. My only complaint is that one major facet of DC is missing: tourists. Focusing on the local residents is great, but love them or hate them tourists do make up a large part of the feel of our beloved DC. But perhaps wanting to see some naïve tourist get caught up in something dangerous is my own issue.
Excelsior
Friday, March 31, 2006
Sailing the Seven Seas of Laughter
Being funny is damn hard. How many times in your own life have you told a strange or witty story to a friend, only to have that friend stare at you blankly, obviously not getting whatever clever witticisms you are trying to impart. Lots of times, I would assume. And without the visual cues of facial expressions and gestures, it’s only tougher with writing. But Keith Thomson has a real knack for it, as shown by his new novel Gus Openshaw’s Whale Killing Journal.
Gus Openshaw, catfood cannery worker and the star of this raucous farce, is a man on a mission. An enormous white sperm whale dubbed “the blubbery bastard” killed his wife and child and tore off his arm and Gus wants vengeance. Through a bizarre loophole he obtains a special license to hunt the whale and uses his life savings to purchase a boat and hire a ragtag crew of violent pirates, Caribbean natives, and a Korean Assassin turned chef.
The real joy of the book comes through the way Thomson simultaneously lampoons and pays homage to a number of high seas novels and stories, particularly Melville’s Moby Dick. Aside from the number of pointed jokes made about sperm whales, there are a number of smart little references to Thomson’s inspiration. While Moby Dick offerered Queequeg as a noble native hunter, Thomson provides the goofy harpoon throwing native named Flarq. Thomson’s illustrations of whales, coffee cups, and boats, billed as scrimshaw drawings by Flarq, work as cartoony versions of the woodcut prints done by Rockwell Kent for a special printing of Moby Dick in the 1930’s (images just below are by Kent and Thomson, respectively, for comparison).
The references continue through the very format of the book. Delivered in short chapters designed to appear like blog entries, Thomson pokes fun at the history of Moby Dick. When it was first published the Melville novel was marketed as a factual travel narrative; they were all the rage at the time and Melville took full advantage of their popularity (James Frey, anyone?). You can certainly argue that the blog is the new equivalent of the travel narratives of yesteryear, providing us a window to the world we wouldn’t have otherwise. The blog format gives Thomson some sly opportunities Melvillle would have loved. Gus responds to emails from his readers, everything from marriage proposals to references to questions on sailing to hate mail from PETA (check out the book’s site for examples).
But as deep as some of these Melvillian references and jokes dig, there’s wild humor and crazy action aplenty to entertain those who have never read, or just don’t remember, Moby Dick.After the crew sets sail they enter a series of bizarre, episodic adventures with narrow escapes from pirates, whale-worshipping natives, gun-runners, and the U.S. navy. Much like the Hitchhikers Guide books by Douglas Adams, Thomson uses the strange obsessions and personalities of the characters to land them in continual trouble but still manage to slip away through dumb luck. After all the narrow escapes the crew faces down the whale in a hysterical climax worthy of a Monty Python sketch with a high special effects budget.
Thomson’s work here is not high art by any stretch, and I don't think he would claim it to be. But his comic timing is tight, and his humor, covering the full range of smart literary references to dumb fart jokes, should force a smile onto many a mouth. So if you need a break from serious thoughts, office politics, or politics in general join Gus on his voyage. It’s a fun, raucous ride that will take you away from your own humdrum life, if only for a few days.
Excelsior.
Gus Openshaw, catfood cannery worker and the star of this raucous farce, is a man on a mission. An enormous white sperm whale dubbed “the blubbery bastard” killed his wife and child and tore off his arm and Gus wants vengeance. Through a bizarre loophole he obtains a special license to hunt the whale and uses his life savings to purchase a boat and hire a ragtag crew of violent pirates, Caribbean natives, and a Korean Assassin turned chef.
The real joy of the book comes through the way Thomson simultaneously lampoons and pays homage to a number of high seas novels and stories, particularly Melville’s Moby Dick. Aside from the number of pointed jokes made about sperm whales, there are a number of smart little references to Thomson’s inspiration. While Moby Dick offerered Queequeg as a noble native hunter, Thomson provides the goofy harpoon throwing native named Flarq. Thomson’s illustrations of whales, coffee cups, and boats, billed as scrimshaw drawings by Flarq, work as cartoony versions of the woodcut prints done by Rockwell Kent for a special printing of Moby Dick in the 1930’s (images just below are by Kent and Thomson, respectively, for comparison).
The references continue through the very format of the book. Delivered in short chapters designed to appear like blog entries, Thomson pokes fun at the history of Moby Dick. When it was first published the Melville novel was marketed as a factual travel narrative; they were all the rage at the time and Melville took full advantage of their popularity (James Frey, anyone?). You can certainly argue that the blog is the new equivalent of the travel narratives of yesteryear, providing us a window to the world we wouldn’t have otherwise. The blog format gives Thomson some sly opportunities Melvillle would have loved. Gus responds to emails from his readers, everything from marriage proposals to references to questions on sailing to hate mail from PETA (check out the book’s site for examples).
But as deep as some of these Melvillian references and jokes dig, there’s wild humor and crazy action aplenty to entertain those who have never read, or just don’t remember, Moby Dick.After the crew sets sail they enter a series of bizarre, episodic adventures with narrow escapes from pirates, whale-worshipping natives, gun-runners, and the U.S. navy. Much like the Hitchhikers Guide books by Douglas Adams, Thomson uses the strange obsessions and personalities of the characters to land them in continual trouble but still manage to slip away through dumb luck. After all the narrow escapes the crew faces down the whale in a hysterical climax worthy of a Monty Python sketch with a high special effects budget.
Thomson’s work here is not high art by any stretch, and I don't think he would claim it to be. But his comic timing is tight, and his humor, covering the full range of smart literary references to dumb fart jokes, should force a smile onto many a mouth. So if you need a break from serious thoughts, office politics, or politics in general join Gus on his voyage. It’s a fun, raucous ride that will take you away from your own humdrum life, if only for a few days.
Excelsior.
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