THE EXPERIMENT WILL NOT BE BOUND

Authors break free of convention in this unbound collection of experimental writing.

Although William H. Gass’ novel The Tunnel (1995) was published as a traditionally bound book, it was first conceived as an unbound volume, presented as if it were a series of papers shuffled together at random. This concept served as the inspiration for this collection of writing, which pushes the boundaries of what types of writing a single anthology may contain. “Being unbound—physically and philosophically—allows the pieces in this anthology to live in any order, to find the fit that works best for any reader, to be read randomly, sequentially, or thematically—or in any other way,” publisher Patrick Davis writes, to which editor Campion adds, “Experiment in such a context implies urgency as well as risk.” Their anthology is a grab-bag of forms and genres, featuring such items as fake book reviews, micro-essays, flash fiction, and stories written completely in dialogue. There’s a series of poems by CA Conrad involving a “crystal grid ritual,” in which the speaker buried a container of crystals and ate dirt at various locations, and a story by Rebecca Rolland about 999 women camped out on a cliffside in an attempt to find “Absolute Music,” whose definition remains vague. There’s a poem by Maria Garcia Teutsch that defines itself as a “psychogeographic” map of Berlin and a story by Curtis VanDonkelaar about old men at the end of their lives, floating up into the clouds like balloons. There’s a poem with sheet music pasted in the middle (“Obituary” by Jay Hopler) and another shaped like a syringe (Andrew Oram’s “Punch Out”). There are also stills of slides from Gass’ lectures, a long poem from Robert Hass’ latest collection, and a soundscape activated by a QR code.

It’s hard to know the extent to which the readers of this book will try to reshuffle these unnumbered pages to create their own order. Many authors have bravely submitted multipage works, which are certain to feel more transgressive when divided and diluted among fragments of others. Not every piece is experimental on its face and, unfortunately, the frenetic nature of the anthology doesn’t necessarily lend itself to close, slow reading. Perhaps because of the experimental theme, the reader’s eye will likely be drawn to poems that are most visibly interesting, such as Kimberly Johnson’s “Ode on my Colon,” which starts off, “in-between: go-between: middleman: middleband: / seam: clothespin: safetypin: safety-zone: / highway: causeway: gutter: bridgestone:…” Another diverting piece is K. Farrell Dalrymple’s story “The Neighborhood,” which begins, “Timothy Woods shot my dog. Timothy Woods shot my dog and killed my dog. He shot my dog and killed my dog, so I shot Timothy Woods. He shot my dog and killed my dog, so I shot Timothy Woods and killed him.” At nearly 350 pages, there are certainly plenty of compelling combinations here, and their inherent randomness is part of the fun.

A bold, build-your-own anthology with some impressive names and inspired pieces.