Three-time novelist Evans (Carter Clay, 1999, etc.) returns with an admirable debut collection of tales, mostly about modern midwestern life.
“A story may lie and lie,” says Oyekan, the Nigerian central figure of “Americans,” who lays bare midwestern values as he inadvertently takes the place of a host couple’s dead son, “but all its lies must tell the truth in the end.” So it is with the variety we receive here, in stories drawn from greatly divergent experiences all bent, as it were, to similar end-truths. In “Ransom,” a young girl tries to build a stable platform of emotion and spirituality as she’s prematurely put in the role of caregiver to needy siblings; “A Beautiful Land” is a distant, quiet portrait of Iowa life that happily recalls the best of William Trevor; a teacher of conversational English in “English as a Second Language” witnesses his students rob a convenience store and worries that he has enabled them to rob through teaching the imperative; and a lesbian couple in “Home Ec” encounter the complex stresses of parenthood with devastating result. In other pieces, a man’s frightening worldview finds expression in the traffic death of a young girl, caused in part by the narrator ( “Blood and Gore”); a college student finds that he can’t remain an unserious person after he attempts to resuscitate a dying man, but can’t become entirely serious, either (“A New Life”); two more college students contemplate the possibility of witchdom and their litanies of boyfriends (“Voodoo Girls on Ice”). In the title novella, a moving but convoluted account of a woman’s relationship with desperation, Candace, a painter, is jolted from a position of relative emotional security by two acts of abandonment: a student of her husband’s wakes his girlfriend so she can witness his suicide by shotgun, and Candace’s bird, a beloved cockatiel, flies away. Candace wonders “Which was better, to be the one who goes or the one who stays behind?”
Varied and accomplished.