THOUGHTS LIKE BUCKSHOT

Fahey collects his observations on humanity, relationships, and the absurdities of life in this debut memoir.

“They say karma is like ripples on a pond,” writes the author in the book’s opening epigraph, adding, “with me it’s been more like a smashing game of dodge ball.” This line sets the tone for a memoir that that blends philosophical insights with absurdist humor. In 26 vignette-like essays, Fahey recalls stories and adventures from his life, including a travelogue of an extended trip to Europe to explore ancient cemeteries. Interactions with friends, lovers, and family abound; he describes his close bond with a 3-year-old great-niece with whom he connected while she was crawling around on the floor (“we were both the same age; my feet were just bigger”). He has experienced, in his own words, a life full of “wonders and weirdos”; the author confesses a childhood obsession with “everything spooky and strange” and describes his half-century membership in the Theosophical Society, a religious group known for its esotericism that blends Western mysticism with East Asian spirituality. One particularly fascinating chapter, a full-color photographic essay titled “Orbs,” explores the author’s beliefs regarding the spiritual forces behind camera “backscatter” (the optical phenomenon caused by a camera’s flash reflecting on particles in the air). Detailing his eclectic spirituality, Fahey is unafraid to address his personal “self-inflicted psychological muck” and emotions (“Being too sensitive,” he writes, “can rub your heart raw”). While often poignant, Fahey’s writing is refreshingly self-aware and careful not to take itself too seriously, as evidenced when the author compares his life to the epic poem The Odyssey—“but with woopie cushions.” Even while embracing New Age spirituality, encouraging the reader to “Welcome yourself as the All” and to avoid fighting evil with “hatred in our own hearts,” he also pokes fun of likeminded spiritualists who call themselves “Guru something or another. Or Light Seeds, or Star Farts.”

Indeed, much of the book’s humor is scatological and includes occasional vulgarities—this may not fit the tastes of all readers. Similarly, while the book’s observational humor—including comparisons between British and American culture—is often hilarious, some of the non sequiturs may leave readers scratching their heads. (“I pick up the dog poo when I go out,” Fahey writes in an example of what he describes as “brief bursts of the utterly ridiculous,” concluding, “I don’t have a dog; I just like picking up poo.”) The author of four novels, some of which are referenced in this memoir, Fahey is a seasoned writer who expertly balances goofy humor with keen insights into the human experience. While the book’s stream-of-consciousness writing style is at times dizzying as the author jumps from topic to topic, the skilled wordsmith has a knack for the apercu. He is also a talented artist; his pencil sketches are featured in the book’s cover art and accompany one of the book’s essays. The work’s spiritual takes, from references to fairies in English woods to ghosts with Tourette syndrome, may not resonate with agnostic or religiously orthodox readers, though it is hard to quibble with the author’s kindhearted, nondogmatic desire to “find our ways into brighter, clearer, more hopeful worlds.”

An insightful, quirky memoir and eclectic collection of observations on spirituality, life, and love.