So many pieces of media promise the profound combination of funny and heartbreaking. When it comes to Jon Jodzio's Knockout delivering on that promiseSo many pieces of media promise the profound combination of funny and heartbreaking. When it comes to Jon Jodzio's Knockout delivering on that promise, it's neither fish nor fowl: not absurd enough to pull off the abstract non-narratives of a post-Leyner bizarro scene and not enough emotional depth to to land those literary moments. It's humorous, sure, and touching enough, I guess.
Nonetheless, it's quite the achievement that this book full of morally peckish, totally bummed-out characters didn't wear on me. For as shitty as everyone was, they felt familiar and their problems (or at least my viewing of their problems) felt welcome. Jodzio's protagonists create their own drama while still inviting empathy.
(Unfortunately, Jodzio is out of his depth on the stories where he assumes the role of a woman narrator. Accurate or not, I can't say and it doesn't matter. Let women tell their own stories even if you think an agoraphobic new mother is a great idea you've got a right to.)
As I go through the process of getting rid of books that have been untouched on my shelf for years, I don't think I'll hang onto Knockout. It's a fun, quick read with some real high points -- the story "Duplex" being the highest of them -- but it's not enough. I have Hempel and Moore and Hannah for this already, even if Jodzio's delightfully tacky variation on literary debauchery is appealing to me in theory....more
**spoiler alert** I’m curious as to how a genderless love interest propelling the (loose) narrative of a novel was unique in the mid-80s when Sphinx c**spoiler alert** I’m curious as to how a genderless love interest propelling the (loose) narrative of a novel was unique in the mid-80s when Sphinx came out. Reading it now in 2021, with trans and non-binary identities being a normal part of my daily life, I feel like it doesn’t pack quite the same punch as it would have for me back then.
Still, it’s a well executed experiment that is only dragged down by the mundanity of the relationship itself. The page-and-a-half paragraphs of directionless, philosophical wheel-spinning in regards to the love the narrator has with A*** derail the book in a pretty unsatisfying way. Compared to the concrete, dynamic way the night club and city are described, it feels like the narrator can’t figure out exactly what she wants to say and ends up getting lost.
The complete lack of dialogue and traditional scenes doesn’t help me navigate the story, either. As I approached the end of the book, it really started to feel like a 120 page stage direction. For a more patient reader who enjoys going through writing like that, it could be a real treat. I would have preferred something a bit more lean that played out in at least a handful of conversations.
Despite all of these complaints (I also hate when books end the way this one ends, with the narrator writing the story we just read and then dying), it really is a well-written book with its moments of beauty. I’m curious as to what other genderless works this paved the way for, and can see this being a seminal work whose finer points don’t age as well as its overall importance to a new generation. ...more
This was fun enough. W.P. Kinsella is a playful writer, which works great when he stretches out in longer forms. Shoeless Joe and The Iowa Baseball CoThis was fun enough. W.P. Kinsella is a playful writer, which works great when he stretches out in longer forms. Shoeless Joe and The Iowa Baseball Confederacy are two of my favorite novels, while Box Socials is a Garrison Keillor-style groanfest and one of my least favorite novels. This short story collection kind of splits the difference.
He shouts out Richard Brautigan, which makes sense. However, where Brautigan pretty regularly delivers an easy humanity and surprising tenderness in his short works, Kinsella lands at whimsical cleverness at best and pointless droll vignettes at worst in his own “Brautigans.”
There’s nothing bad in here and the book is a quick, short read. I got some chuckles and the longer stories (ten pages, tops) had some substance, but this just made me want to reread Brautigan’s Revenge of the Lawn. ...more
Late to the party on this one, as always, but holy moly. I can’t say it any better than the back of the book, so:
“At once a love story, an elegy, and Late to the party on this one, as always, but holy moly. I can’t say it any better than the back of the book, so:
“At once a love story, an elegy, and an urgent plea—Ilya Kaminsky’s long-awaited Deaf Republic confronts our time’s vicious atrocities and our collective silence in the face of them.”
It does such a wonderful job of leaving the reader to draw their own conclusions about the fucked up oppression of policing in modern day (though it’s always been this way, but that’s another story) America. The presence of a narrative helps a dumb reformed fiction writer such as myself follow along, too.
Plus, the cover looks like some awful album on Geffen from 1993, so it hit a nostalgia button for me I’m not quite proud of but drawn to nonetheless. ...more
When this book takes a rapid fire micro-essay form (or even a longer form, like the section on Serena Williams) I think it really shows the Groundhog When this book takes a rapid fire micro-essay form (or even a longer form, like the section on Serena Williams) I think it really shows the Groundhog Day hellscape of exhaustion and abuse of being Black in America. The more poetic sections often lost me in terms of following them, but even those succeed in revealing what it’s like to be denied the ability to observe, to be pre-cast into victimhood and forced to play the role. This loops back into the repetition of exhaustion as Black bodies carry white baggage against their will over and over.
(A brief section that wrapped all of this up for me was a mere sentence that spoke about white minds creating being Black while Black minds create. This speaks loudly to how American culture was only truly able to establish itself from its European roots by appropriating the culture and ideas of Black minds.)
A great book and incredible perspective. I’m looking forward to reading it again down the road with a closer eye. ...more
(EXCERPT FROM) RANDOM-AND-OFTENTIMES-FABRICATED STATISTICS ABOUT SAD LAUGHTER BY BRIAN ALAN ELLIS
(329) The number of times I thought “These were tweet(EXCERPT FROM) RANDOM-AND-OFTENTIMES-FABRICATED STATISTICS ABOUT SAD LAUGHTER BY BRIAN ALAN ELLIS
(329) The number of times I thought “These were tweets, right?”
(0) The number of times I actually went to Brian’s Twitter to check if these were tweets because, much like the aura and culture of literature are constantly pointed out to be in Sad Laughter, that would have been a complete waste of time and I wouldn’t have gotten any blowjobs.
A repetitive, narrative thrum from a man whose wife has just had a seizure. The whole thing reads like someone improvising a mantra about how their grA repetitive, narrative thrum from a man whose wife has just had a seizure. The whole thing reads like someone improvising a mantra about how their grief and hope develop and tangle in real time. It's broken up into short chapters and then several sections from there, including brief sections dedicated to Kimball's own experiences with love and death in broad-yet-specific terms.
There's a real dedication to the form that comes full circle for me. I thought it was going to be a draining gimmick: all the sentences are "I did this" and "She did that" and other slight variations of that simple idea. The simplicity and duration are what save it. There's a childlike feel to how the story develops, almost as if the narrator has been stripped of their experience and knowledge and is resorting mentally to a time before their love was full and realized. It's beautiful when taken on the whole, especially considering I'm almost always a dick about wanting sentences that good outside their functionality.
Based on every description of this book, including my own, I should have disliked it or at least dismissed it. I'm glad I didn't. This was a fast, consuming read that played out like an extended feeling, whatever that means to you....more
Full disclosure: I know jack shit about satire! As I told Kurt, it’s like how I can tell you that It Takes a Nation of Millions is better than some diFull disclosure: I know jack shit about satire! As I told Kurt, it’s like how I can tell you that It Takes a Nation of Millions is better than some dickhole on SoundCloud, I can’t necessarily tell you why with any sort of depth to the analysis. So, this satire of a slightly-in-the-future America still hanging on to the right wing dipshittery of George W. with it’s GOP rule is way, way out of my wheelhouse. (Where are my absurd, overly-clever, minimalist 1980’s short fiction people at?!)
Having said that, I can tell this is a good book. The writing is sharp and the dialogue makes smooth sense in a Bond sort of way—certainly people don’t talk like that, but it would be nice if they did! The plethora of characters each have their own identities and places. People have said Dickens as a point of reference for the multitude of players in this book, which bums me out because Dickens kind of sucks, but despite there being lots of damn people and lots damn pages, Pax Americana has a big enough scope and a big enough risk—oh, you know, just the fate of friggin’ humanity—to warrant it. It’s not just an old lady being mean to some kid with every chimney sweep and passerby in the town having to get their shit in.
The Pax Americana world is ultra serious, as you might have surmised from them having 30+ years of right wing political/social standards. There’s an eerily-prescient fast food chain called Righteous Burger, for fucksake! As is usually the case, people like the religious zealot Agent Tuck Squires are those most in need of being lampooned.
His straight man, Ken Clarion, is relatable and conflicted, just a guy trying to do his job and be the best version of himself. I like him the best because he’s an actual person instead of an extension of the giant world of satire that is Pax Americana, and if I had a criticism that extends beyond “Where are the Gordon Lish-edited sentences wah-wah-wah” it would be that there needed to be more of those straight-laced constants to bounce off the extreme over-characterization of the people we’re supposed to be laughing at.
As far as a moral center goes, I think this is a book about action vs. ideas, power vs. responsibility. In the battle of prayers and actions, we know who wins. However, at what point is action not the most important thing? Are we to assume that the small amount of action, no matter how important it is, is any match for the sheer volume and multitude of ideas that pack them together? If we speak of “protection,” do we think first of ourselves or others? How far does our idea of protection extend, and how much can we do to put our hand in that glove of responsibility?...more
This book is way smarter than I am! The recap is right there, so I’ll spare you my bumbling version of it. There’s a great stone soup approach to sci-This book is way smarter than I am! The recap is right there, so I’ll spare you my bumbling version of it. There’s a great stone soup approach to sci-fi here, where Fitch throws in poetry and philosophy and computer stuff to make something that is definitely science fiction, but even more so an odd amalgam of the non-genre influences.
It’s an ambitious track to go down, and I’m maybe giving myself too much credit in saying that I can mostly follow it. At a sentence level—which is not what this sort of book is about and is somewhat out of my depth, admittedly—I can’t quite get down with it. However, the moral center is strong. This is a book about reality and loneliness. What are we questing for in other people and far away ideas if not confirmation of our own existence? Is immortality better than the alternative? Are we all just living out Axl Rose pondering “Where do we go now?”
There’s action, too: government fiddling and multi-dimensional frickery and organic multiplicity and all the wildness you can have chatting on the internet to a young not-quite-human (no spoilers!) about saving both their reality and yours.
The stories at the end follow much in the same emotional direction, albeit with a less “all in the pot” approach. Fitch does well with the brevity here—or I do better with it—and is able to hit capsule versions of the same points he does in the novella.
Overall, I would have loved to see the novella and some of the longer stories tightened up a bit in terms of language and direction. Everything was clearly plotted, and the reveal of information came at a good pace, but when a work is combining so many different literary styles along with a narrative that requires a lot of information, it absolutely needs to be laid out on the page in a way that lends itself to an excitable clarity on the reader’s end. As it is, this is a dang good book that lost me a couple times, though the heart and ideas are top notch and worth climbing back in for....more
These stories have within them what I love--A struggling actress as a Bigfoot impersonator! A guy who quits his life to look for the Loch Ness MonsterThese stories have within them what I love--A struggling actress as a Bigfoot impersonator! A guy who quits his life to look for the Loch Ness Monster!--but I was left a bit unmoved at the end of them most of the time. I would have loved to cut ten-to-fifteen pages from each of these, trimming down the constant descriptive language and reforming it into fewer lines that are more concise and clever, making the revelations less soft, having the characters make harder left turns every once in awhile.
The writing itself is technically proficient, and van den Berg has her style down solid--no surprise for someone whose stories are propelled by science. That form isn't necessarily a bad thing, but after the third or fourth 25-page story about academic pursuits mixing (kind of, but not really) dangerously with abandonment/distance/uncertainty, I felt like I was reading the formula instead of the results. Nothing wrong with that--how many Amy Hempel stories are just her talking at a dog, for shit's sake--I just wanted her to lean harder into the odd parts instead of the doldrums the odd parts bounce against.
One thing I'll never forget is the part in the story where the woman steals the giant mask at the shop she works in. Her holding it as she gets mugged is a powerful image, and what I would have liked to see more of in the stories: an action with a consequence, an unexpected risk that makes total sense.
These are fine stories from a talented writer, and I'd be interested in reading more, but this book seems like a promise to make good on. ...more
"The first of several incredible full-page panels go all-in on the psychedelic foundation of the book. From the first time I saw it, I felt that the a"The first of several incredible full-page panels go all-in on the psychedelic foundation of the book. From the first time I saw it, I felt that the art on this single page told me the majority of what I needed to know about the pages ahead of it, from the variety of shapes to the simple repetition of the colors. The fading in the middle distance made me think that Kerouac and Wonka got together to build a dream."
FULL REVIEW UP SOON AT HEAVY FEATHER REVIEW...more
This was like reading a talented writer's diary and wondering how good they could be if they tried to make any sort of sense or came off like they gavThis was like reading a talented writer's diary and wondering how good they could be if they tried to make any sort of sense or came off like they gave a fuck at all about anyone else who might read it. I like the short short form, but these stories abuse it. They almost lean on it to the point where we're expected to find not just our own meanings by intersecting the terseness with the disjointedness, but any sort of intent whatsoever.
For those who found something to latch onto, good on you. I couldn't do it. It was like trying to read Gary Lutz without the amazing sentences: artificially dense from the scatter of thoughts.
I really do think I could like Diane Williams. I'll do a bit of research and read her best book. Fine Fine Fine Fine Fine definitely isn't it. ...more
"Lutz has known forever how he wants to write, and he’s done it yet again. Assisted Living isn’t a trotting out of the same show as always, the last s"Lutz has known forever how he wants to write, and he’s done it yet again. Assisted Living isn’t a trotting out of the same show as always, the last season of The Office or the newest Led Zeppelin remasters. It’s the guy who does a thing better than everyone yet again doing it better than anyone.
If you haven’t been following Lutz’s career thus far, I’ll spare you the minor complaints, the What does it all mean? analysis, the gladhanding, the sentence-by-sentence breakdown of everything he’s written. You’ll want the joy of discovery for yourself, anyways."
FULL REVIEW COMING SOON TO ELECTRIC LITERATURE ...more
"Despite some clashes between the straightforwardness of the narrative and the absurdity of the overall conceit, Atkinson dances between the two quite"Despite some clashes between the straightforwardness of the narrative and the absurdity of the overall conceit, Atkinson dances between the two quite gracefully. At the moments when he makes the explosion meet the philosophy, it becomes a clearly wrought story about perception and determination. Even through the dissonance I see the parallels with the form: not one thing, not the other."
FULL REVIEW UP AT THE WRITING DISORDER SOON...more
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