A delightful artifact that will leave readers wondering if they ever truly understood the world at all.
Eleven short stories from the weirder end of South American culture.
Best known for his posthumously published work The Luminous Novel (2021), this collection by Levrero (1940-2004) resurrects his earliest fiction, most with shades of paranoia and self-consciousness that would turn Philip K. Dick green. The opener already gives off a strong “Tell-Tale Heart” vibe, as one man’s checklist of his nightly bedtime rituals descends into disaster—and that’s the cheerier of the two stories that bookend the collection (“The Thinking-About-Gladys Machine” and “The Thinking-About-Gladys Machine (Negative)”), both concerning a machine that seems to offer a self-destructive feedback loop instead of white noise. Even a casual action like igniting a lighter becomes a labyrinthine quest for salvation in “Beggar Street,” while brevities like “One-Way Story No. 2” use a mere handful of words to examine existential truths. There is some humor here, albeit very dark. “The Stiff Corpse” offers Pythonesque absurdity, while seemingly innocuous items become instruments of destruction in “Jelly” (a take on The Blob by way of Latin American surrealism) and in “That Green Liquid,” which shows a home product demonstration going Cat in the Hat–grade awry. The only notion that’s overused is the haunted house motif that marks “The Abandoned House,” full of tiny men and spiders and unicorns and whatnot, and the locked-room-mystery that morphs into a hero’s quest in “The Basement.” Similarly, insomnia and obsession grip the protagonists of “The Golden Reflections” and “The Boarding House,” where nocturnal wanderings lead men astray. Most of the collection’s protagonists are unnamed gray men whose featurelessness sharpens the bizarre elements of each tale. They often seem adrift, navigating a slow descent into mediocrity that makes their encounters with the surreal, and the dichotomy between their worldviews and Levrero’s phantasmagorical imagination, delightfully jarring.
A delightful artifact that will leave readers wondering if they ever truly understood the world at all.Pub Date: Oct. 15, 2024
ISBN: 9781916751064
Page Count: 176
Publisher: And Other Stories
Review Posted Online: Aug. 29, 2024
Kirkus Reviews Issue: Oct. 1, 2024
BOOK REVIEW
BOOK REVIEW
Uneven but fitfully amusing.
Betrayed by her husband, a severely depressed young woman gets drawn into the over-the-top festivities at a lavish wedding.
Phoebe Stone, who teaches English literature at a St. Louis college, is plotting her own demise. Her husband, Matt, has left her for another woman, and Phoebe is taking it hard. Indeed, she's determined just where and how she will end it all: at an oceanfront hotel in Newport, where she will lie on a king-sized canopy bed and take a bottle of her cat’s painkillers. At the hotel, Phoebe meets bride-to-be Lila, a headstrong rich girl presiding over her own extravagant six-day wedding celebration. Lila thought she had booked every room in the hotel, and learning of Phoebe's suicidal intentions, she forbids this stray guest from disrupting the nuptials: “No. You definitely can’t kill yourself. This is my wedding week.” After the punchy opening, a grim flashback to the meltdown of Phoebe's marriage temporarily darkens the mood, but things pick up when spoiled Lila interrupts Phoebe's preparations and sweeps her up in the wedding juggernaut. The slide from earnest drama to broad farce is somewhat jarring, but from this point on, Espach crafts an enjoyable—if overstuffed—comedy of manners. When the original maid of honor drops out, Phoebe is persuaded, against her better judgment, to take her place. There’s some fun to be had here: The wedding party—including groom-to-be Gary, a widower, and his 11-year-old daughter—takes surfing lessons; the women in the group have a session with a Sex Woman. But it all goes on too long, and the humor can seem forced, reaching a low point when someone has sex with the vintage wedding car (you don’t want to know the details). Later, when two characters have a meet-cute in a hot tub, readers will guess exactly how the marriage plot resolves.
Uneven but fitfully amusing.Pub Date: July 30, 2024
ISBN: 9781250899576
Page Count: 384
Publisher: Henry Holt
Review Posted Online: Sept. 13, 2024
BOOK REVIEW
BOOK REVIEW
SEEN & HEARD
Tinny perhaps, but still a minutely rendered and impressively steady feminist vision of apocalypse.
The time is the not-so-distant future, when the US's spiraling social freedoms have finally called down a reaction, an Iranian-style repressive "monotheocracy" calling itself the Republic of Gilead—a Bible-thumping, racist, capital-punishing, and misogynistic rule that would do away with pleasure altogether were it not for one thing: that the Gileadan women, pure and true (as opposed to all the nonbelieving women, those who've ever been adulterous or married more than once), are found rarely fertile.
Thus are drafted a whole class of "handmaids," whose function is to bear the children of the elite, to be fecund or else (else being certain death, sent out to be toxic-waste removers on outlying islands). The narrative frame for Atwood's dystopian vision is the hopeless private testimony of one of these surrogate mothers, Offred ("of" plus the name of her male protector). Lying cradled by the body of the barren wife, being meanwhile serviced by the husband, Offred's "ceremony" must be successful—if she does not want to join the ranks of the other disappeared (which include her mother, her husband—dead—and small daughter, all taken away during the years of revolt). One Of her only human conduits is a gradually developing affair with her master's chauffeur—something that's balanced more than offset, though, by the master's hypocritically un-Puritan use of her as a kind of B-girl at private parties held by the ruling men in a spirit of nostalgia and lust. This latter relationship, edging into real need (the master's), is very effectively done; it highlights the handmaid's (read Everywoman's) eternal exploitation, profane or sacred ("We are two-legged wombs, that's all: sacred vessels, ambulatory chalices"). Atwood, to her credit, creates a chillingly specific, imaginable night-mare. The book is short on characterization—this is Atwood, never a warm writer, at her steeliest—and long on cynicism—it's got none of the human credibility of a work such as Walker Percy's Love In The Ruins. But the scariness is visceral, a world that's like a dangerous and even fatal grid, an electrified fence.
Tinny perhaps, but still a minutely rendered and impressively steady feminist vision of apocalypse.Pub Date: Feb. 17, 1985
ISBN: 038549081X
Page Count: -
Publisher: Houghton Mifflin
Review Posted Online: Sept. 16, 2011
Kirkus Reviews Issue: Jan. 15, 1985
SEEN & HEARD
BOOK TO SCREEN
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