XSTABETH

Music and the sacred converge in unexpected ways. Keenan explores that dynamic through a story about a father, a daughter, and the music that haunts them.

The book opens in Russia, where the narrator’s father is a famous singer/songwriter. She begins a relationship with Jaco, a friend of her father’s whose music is even more well known, leading to some tension among the trio. Keenan—a regular contributor to the music magazine The Wire for many years—knows his subject well, and this novel abounds with allusions to numerous beloved cult musicians, including Donovan, Bert Jansch, The Seeds, and Jackson C. Frank. The artist mentioned most frequently is one with an affinity for the sacred and ecstatic: Leonard Cohen. The novel’s title comes from the name given to the music played by the narrator’s father—or, as the narrator explains, “My father and I are haunted by a saint....A saint called Xstabeth.” Many of the novel’s charms come from the narrator’s precise yet halting approach to telling this story, as with this look back on her mother: “She got murdered. I told him. I don’t know why I said it. She got murdered on her honeymoon. I said. I was twisting the facts for no reason.” Much like Keenan’s earlier novel This Is Memorial Device (2017), the book uses a found-document format. The author of the novel within the novel is dead, and what we’re reading is a version of a book from 1992, “reissued here and updated with commentary.” It can be dizzying at times, but the risks and esotericism on display make this a memorable read.

This isn’t a typical rock novel—but that’s what makes it so compelling.