ATTRIB. AND OTHER STORIES

A jewel box of 16 stories.

“The Alphabet” sets the tone for Williams’ verbally dazzling collection: The narrator, suffering from aphasia, struggles to describe what’s happening to her. She is losing her ability to retrieve the words for things. More tragically, she may have lost her lover: “Forgetting hairbrush became forgetting our address became forgetting dates became figmenting became fragmenting, became I remembered your beautiful, beautiful face but could not quite place it.” With her verbal mastery loosening, the narrator improvises. Though her condition is rare, she’s not alone since the following stories suggest that language’s riches and its imprecision are another source of slipperiness as well as creative potential. These pieces often take the form of one-sided conversations, allowing Williams’ first-person narrators to riff on finding the perfect backdrop for a kiss in a gallery (“Smote”) or choosing the right words to shout at a lover storming away after a tiff (“Spins”). Time stands still, it expands luxuriously as is possible only in fiction, giving characters all the time in the world to muse. This is certainly true in “Alight at the Next,” which alights on this image and that idea while the narrator constructs and deconstructs the significance of her physical proximity to her date and what she should do to the man who has stepped onto the Tube and threatens this magical moment of intimacy: “I am certainly braver than before, when the pre-you afternoon got jumbled with you-evening at rush hour, where throats squirmed with the old smoke and stream of tunnels: a world pinstriped by eyelashes, uproarious with the need for a Friday, downroarius with lost cards.” These stories are not for those who relish plot, but they will please daydreamers and lovers of verbal wizardry and wit.

A work of linguistic exuberance and lyrical meandering.