I am a word junkie, I admit it, and I just got a great fix from Lucy Ives' impossible views of the world. This novel has checked all the boxes: prose, characters, plot, story within a story, and it's fun.

Reading the first page, I thought, "Hmm, this is a tad overwritten." By page two, I realized, "No, this is the narrator's voice, and it's perfect." By page three,

I knew, "I love this writing."

I quickly discovered that Ives also is quite adept at characterization. Stella Krakus, the protagonist and narrator, is a 30 something curator of the Central Museum of Art in Manhattan, very intelligent, finalizing a divorce, in love with a colleague who won't love her, and then hooked on an art history mystery. She is perfectly drawn, the reader "gets" her and likes her. Stella's mother, Caro, is a self invented, wry, judging woman who owns a successful print gallery on the upper east side. Ives evokes her distant personality perfectly, without being heavy handed. I was glad Caro was not my mother. Frederic Lu is vividly painted as a handsome, brilliant, prince of The City, who is on the fast track to be the Direct of Central Museum.

The most important character has died before page one: poet Paul Coral, a long time employee of Central, and secretly an expert printmaker. We do not encounter him in any flash backs, so his character is slowly drawn by Stella's discoveries. He is the story within the story, and the mystery in impossible views. The setup and revelation of this character is skillfully done. This novel is great writing and a fun read, I highly recommend. I can't wait for Ives' next novel.

The Fugitives by Christopher Sorrentino

The Fugitives by Christopher Sorrentino is a sort-of mystery thriller that takes a literary deep dive into identity in today's world, as well as its dance with friendship & betrayal. Sorrentino treats these issues with a prose that is light and fun. Sandy Mulligan is a successful novelist with writer's block. He's a likeable bumbler who leaves his failing marriage & family, and heads for the hinterlands to recharge...and hopefully write. His publisher & editor are hounding him for some progress. He's not making much. 

Sandy becomes fascinated with John Salteau, a native Ojibway storyteller who performs at the local library. Sandy is intrigued with the freedom of John's art & process, a sharp contrast to his own stall. However, John does not look like an Ojibway or sound like one. A relentless reporter from Chicago, Kat Danhoff, takes an interest in John, but not as a story teller. She believes he might be a mob courier who fled the local Indian casino with a large pile of cash. She has several interviews with a sharply dressed "consultant" who has a vague assignment at the Ojibway casino. These exchanges are great cat & mouse exercises that thrust the issue of identity further under the lens of the book.

Needless to say, no one in the story is who he or she appears to be. Not quite...Sandy & Kat are exactly who they slowly reveal themselves to be: totally damaged human goods. A doomed affair shakily begins between them. The more we learn about Sandy, the less likeable he is. In fact, my only disapointment with the book, is that in the last few pages this picture becomes quite harsh. This is not surprising, but disheartening none the less. Forget that! The this book is a romp, a fun collision between satire and big existential issues.

So Much Blue by Percival Everett

So Much Blue by Percival Everett is a wonderful read: well written, empathetic characters, and deep insights. The prose moves from brainy to irreverent to humorous with ease. Everett has penned many books and in different genres. I have read that he might take a genre that he's never written & dive in, usually with success. In this case, I'm not sure what genre one would call Blue, but he's written with great humanity about family, friendship, art and secrets.

Blue is told in the self-deprecating first person voice of Kevin Pace, a 56 year old successful painter who seems mystified at his success. His self-absorption keeps him mystified about much of life, which he readily admits: his marriage, his relationship with teenage children, the art world. Kevin's candor about this gives the book much of its charm. Many passages about this are beautifully written. The one thing in his life that Kevin seems to have a solid footing with is his longtime friendship with Richard, that goes back to college days.

There are three story lines that are told in alternate chapters by Pace. Sometimes I'm not crazy about this structure, but in Everett's hands it works well. In each strand there is a secret that is slowly revealed. In the present, Kevin is struggling with his relationship with his wife, Linda, & two children. He is working on a huge painting in a separate locked studio that he will allow no one to see. This is not well received by Linda or Richard. They see it as Kevin's aloofness made tangible. Also, Kevin is asked to keep a secret that creates a very difficult situation for him. In his college years, he accompanies Richard on a search for his brother in El Salvador, as the country moved into civil war. This becomes quite dangerous & is evoked with the bumbling foolishness of youth. Kevin keeps a secret from this trip for over thirty years from Richard & Linda. The third strand is a bit less fulfilling. It is the story of a brief affair with a much younger watercolorist in Paris, Victoire. This is affair is a secret, but, secrets are also revealed for the first time, to Victoire. This seems believable because Kevin likely feels safe doing it there: they both know that the affair will end quickly & is so separate from their real lives. In the end, the three strands intertwine nicely, and secrets are revealed that might help Richard and Linda strengthen their relationship.

I'm a sucker for books about painters and novelists. Most of the time I am disappointed, but not in this case. Kevin's bemused attitude toward the frothy verbiage of gallerists critics, and towards his own success, is delightful. His reaction is basically: I'm just a painter, I put paint on a canvas.

If this novel were written by a lesser author, it might have been three times as long, and not a better book. In an age of unedited 500-700 page novels, I love it when a writer has the chops to tell a story cleanly, & get the message across elegantly, with no excess baggage. Everett has done this in Blue, & I highly recommend it.

2084: The End of the World by Boualem Sansal

This is the book that Michel Houellebecq should have written instead of Submission.That novel and the author were lambasted by reviewers and commentators for anti-Muslim content, but clearly these critics had not read the book. Submission was quite tame and barely mentioned Islam until the last 20 pages. The rest was a cure for insomnia about obscure French philosophers. Please see my blog post. I can't be too hard on Houellebecq, whom I respect greatly, please see my post on The Map & the Territory. His friend Stephane Charbonnier was murdered along with 11 others by radical Muslims at the office of the satirical magazine, Charlie Hebdo, on the day Submission was published. A caricature of Houellebecq was on the cover of the magazine.

2084, The End of the World was written by Algerian author, Boualem Sansal, at great risk to his life. He poses the story in a fictitious country, governed by a fictitious religion, after a fictitious global holy war and conflagration. The fiction approach reminded me of comments by Jackie St. Joan at a reading from her book, My Sisters Made of Light, which is about honor crimes in Pakistan, please see my post. She is a lawyer and former judge, with a focus on family violence. She did much research in Pakistan about honor crimes against women and was going to write a non-fiction account of this. She was advised to put the information in the form of a novel to protect the people she had interviewed. They told her that their lives would be at great risk if she wrote a documentary account. So, it seems that to keep his head attached to his shoulders, Sansal sensibly made his story completely fictitious. Reading between the lines, it could portray life in many countries today, including his home Algeria. The rise of Islamic fundamentalism after the assassination of President Mohamed Boudiaf lead Sansal to begin writing at the age of 50. 2084 won the Grand Prix of the French Academy in 2016. Sansal won the Prix du Roman Arabe in 2012. However, the prize was withdrawn because he spoke at the Jerusalem Writers Festival. He has won other literary prizes in France & Germany.

The story of 2084 occurs in Abistan, a country ruled by a religion based on the Gkabul, a holy book transmitted to Abi, the Messenger, by Yolah, the iron fisted God of this religion. The story follows the life of Ati, a poor soul buffeted by powerful & violent religious forces. He lives a simple life of poverty, keeping his head down, like most of the population. Individual thought, non-religious learning, free will and memory are forbidden. Time begins in 2084, the year the Gkabul was written, there is no history before that. Their lives are heavily leavened with fear of being tagged by neighbors or various moral authorities for transgressions against Abi and Yolah. This would take one quickly to a stoning in a stadium. Ati is unaware of most of the things we take for granted in life, from the concept of freedom to free will. The people are ignorant of any world beyond Abistan, and there might not be one.

The topic of 2084 is grim, but the prose is often light and satirical, sometimes comical. It was heroic for Sansal to write it, and it is well worth a read.

Days Without end by Sebastian Barry

This comment was tricky to write. Usually my book blogs come pouring out, since I only write about books that I enjoyed. I did enjoy Days Without End, but this is a complicated one for me. I bought this book because I think that Irish author Sebastian Barry is one of the finest living wordsmiths in the English language. Please see my post On Canaan's Side. But, I had two hesitations.

The book is written in "cowboy dialect", for lack of a better word. I have difficulty reading novels in any sort of dialect. Second, much of the book is set during the American-Indian Wars and the Civil War, and neither is my cuppa java. But, Barry did not disappoint. The dialect prose was often wonderful, without being over-written. I was struck that Barry's use of this language also gives the reader great insight into the mind of the mid-19th century immigrant, regarding nature, friendship, and the manner in which people related to one another. This aspect was often quite striking. The voice of the novel is in the first person of immigrant Thomas McNulty.

The novel opens as Thomas, a young, starving, illiterate Irish orphan, and a new friend, John Cole, find refuge in a minstrel show in a mining town. The hook is that Thomas is dressed as a girl, a theme that recurs throughout the book. Thomas and John Cole become lovers and life long friends. This is slowly revealed in the story, concealed there as they concealed it in their lives. Their time in the army, another way to avoid starving, occurs first in the far west. The military's treatment of native Americans is frankly described, without being gratuitously violent. This was a hard life, often cold, still hungry, and frequently not quite sure about what they were ordered to do.

The Civil War brings them back into the Army, and again, a brutal life. The plot loops back to their Indian days, in a terrible, but believable twist. The aftermath of this brings Thomas to an unfair judgement. The resolution of this incident left me with a deep exhale. Barry is not just a great wordsmith, he spins deeply human stories.

Michael Chabon's Moonglow

Somehow I missed Michael Chabon's dozen novels and Pulitzer Prize. I know now that this is my loss. His most recent novel, Moonglow, is a delight to read. It is a cross between a novel and "speculative" biography. It reads like great story telling. Theoretically, it is the life story of his normally taciturn grandfather told from his deathbed. Some is real, and much is undoubtedly from Chabon's fertile imagination. I don't care if this came from his grandfather, his uncle, or Chabon's own noggin. I read this as fiction and it's wonderful.

There are powerful hooks for readers of Chabon's age, or any age: from his grandfather's love of rocketry and the future of space travel, to the difficulties of loving complicated people. There are fun footnotes, and more information than I ever dreamed of about our nation's favorite rocket hero, Werner von Braun and his dirty Nazi secrets of the slave labor Mittelwerk V-2 factory. There is also an often humorous dose of well deserved existentialism after his grandfather's experiences in World War II. Do not fear, while WW II is an important back story, it is a small part of the book. The novel is really about passion, love, hidden truths and lies, selective revelation, and protecting love. This is all told with compassion and humor.

You don't need childhood memories of rockets and dreams of spaceflight to enjoy this book. It is great storytelling all on its own.

All the Dead Yale Men by Craig Nova

Craig Nova often writes about good, but flawed, people, who get in jams with very bad people. This happens through his protagonists' human frailties in situations the reader can imagine, but would rather not get stuck in. All the Dead Yale Men is vintage Nova. I sometimes squirmed in my seat in sympathy for Frank Mackinnnon, the all too human attorney at the center of the novel. The title is misleading, there's very little about Yale, and only two dead men, one from a heart attack. So, it's not a blue blood mystery. The novel is about people juggling parenthood, family conflict, & love. Parenthood is seen from Frank's dual vantage point as the son of a very flawed father, who we meet as an elderly, slippery former CIA agent, and as the parent of daughter Pia, who is coming of age & with rebellion in full bloom. In an effort to protect Pia from a manipulative street conman, Frank gets sideways with some small time Russian crooks, who are ready to blackmail him. This is not a good position for a Boston district attorney. Frank is a reader of Roman philosophers, and quotes from them are juxtaposed against the mess he has created with his more or less good intentions. The story unfolds in Franks voice, and in Nova's usual spare and eloquent prose.  He has written eleven other novels, and I've read and recommend most of them. This one is a good place to start.

The Adventurist by J. Bradford Hipps

Many have likened The Adventurist to Walker Percy and that's not far off. This book is wonderfully written corporate existential fiction. The Percy observation is hard to avoid given Hipps' perfectly chosen epigraph from the great 1961 debut novel The Movie Goer: "Businessmen are our only metaphysicians." For me, this is a good starting point, since my library has mint first editions of every Percy novel published.

J. Bradford Hipps spent ten years in the software industry, and he was paying attention. Existentialism aside, he has brought us startlingly vivid insights into the corporate sales culture and life under the gun: tough quarterly sales goals, risk of firing, win or go. This world is brought to life by the steely pragmatic views of the veteran division manager, Keith. The protagonist at the center of the story is Henry Hurt, and the word hero is more appropriate given the big life issues he digs into. OK, maybe his name is a little too obvious, but this is a small price to pay for a very good read. He's a long-time software engineer, who manages a development team. Henry is called into a big marketing push by Keith and his newly hired sales director. But, Henry is adrift: single, he lost his mother to cancer, his father is flirting with dementia & being cared for by Henry's non-profit centric sister. His reponse to all this is to fall in love with a married woman in sales, who is on the big push team. Henry's reflections on life & his boss' comments on corporate life are the joys of the book. Keith's one liner's are priceless. Keith on the phone: "Now he is nodding testily. 'Look,' says Keith, 'My rule? Never carry a salesman longer than his mother did. You're profitable in nine months or you're out.' The receiver goes back into its cradle."  There is one weak point in the novel. While the story's ending is believable, the event that triggers it seems unlikely. This is surprising given Hipps' on-target insights about corporate life. But, I can happily live with that, given how much Hipps has to say about careers, relationships, & the search for meaning in the modern workplace. The writing is superb, and it's a debut novel, so I'll watch for more.

The Red Car - Marcy Dermansky

The prose in The Red Car zooms across the pages, not in a hurry, but careening, almost out of control. Marcy Dermansky's novel is a sort of coming-of-age tale, which I normally avoid like election year politics. But, the reader quickly gains affection for our hero, Leah, as she pings through life. The cadence of Dermansky's prose feels like Vendela Vida's first novel, which I enjoyed. But, this writing is much more free and with a good natured sense of humor. Written in the first person, the story unfolds with a lot of internal monologue. Yes, this can be an annoying affectation, but in this case works very well...We like her. Leah is living in Queens with her husband that she met in grad school, finishing her first novel on her laptop. The marriage might be a green card event. Her boss Judy, from years ago in San Francisco, dies suddenly. Leah had loved her, a confident, brash, mother figure for her, a big support system, wise-eyed, worldly. Leah makes quick plans to go to the funeral, and her husband chokes her as they argue about this...she probably needs to make some changes. Judy left her the red car she died in, a car that Leah always hated. At a mechanic's shop in San Fran, she finds her old journal under the front passenger seat with a letter from her boss taped inside, a suicide note and advice from beyond. Follow the clues, Judy tells her regarding life. And she does. She drives to a speaking engagement of an old boyfriend who is an internet success, with another college friend. By the way, the book opens with quite a scene with him at college, sorry, no spoiler. She stays at an inn that her mother had loved and edits her novel. The clerk at the inn, a beautiful young Japanese girl, a writing student, steals the red car. Leah goes back east for the bat mitzvah of Judy's niece, as requested in the letter, without going home. There are many other characters and twists along the way. Ping ping ping. Amidst this crazy journey, which is fun for the reader, Leah gains insight into herself and the confidence to follow the clues. As the book closed, I wished her well.

Thomas Murphy by Roger Rosenblatt

Roger Rosenblatt is a distinguished essayist, play-write and novelist. I had never read his work until his most recent novel: Thomas Murphy. It is a delightful book filled with insights about poetry, family, aging, and dementia. Yes, it does sometimes border on being a too-sweet dessert, but Rosenblatt always brings it back to earth. The novel is told in the voice of Thomas Murphy, an aging Irish poet who lives in New York, a widower with a loving daughter and grandson. His daughter is pushing him for tests by a neurologist for his memory problems. Murphy's dealings with the doctor, and everyone else, are priceless...and funny.

I know, it sounds like a candidate for another feel-good movie, but it's worth looking beyond the icing. Murphy's tongue in cheek monologues are free from chronology and also free from distinguishing fact from fiction, which can make them wonderful. The reader becomes accustomed to Murphy's stories woven into "the story", and one quickly doesn't care whether it is history or story or both, because it's great story-telling. His observations about life, art, love, loss, are all worth reading and considering.

OK, truth be told, I read this book when I hit a big speed-bump in my life, bang! Despite Murphy's trials, this book was a real pick-me-up, so sue me. I can imagine and hear Thomas saying, "And what could be wrong with that?"

The Last Word, by Hanif Kureishi

I'm always a sucker for novels about writers and writing. Hanif Kureishi's The Last Word hits this target from a number of angles and poses interesting questions. It is also filled with delightfully developed characters who are all colorful, without becoming caricatures. This gives the book a rich balance of pathos and humor.

A hungry and ambitious young writer, Harry Johnson, is given a commission to write a biography of a towering literary figure, Mamoon Azam. His publisher hopes to revitalize Azam's book sales & reputation. The writer has been a life-long hero to Harry. Of course, Harry opens Pandora's box when he begins his research while living at Mamoon's estate, which creates conflicts for him. Exploitative and thoughtless relationships with women and sexual hijinx are revealed from Azam's first wife's journals and an ex-lover's scathing interviews. Mamoon's deliberately incendiary commentary on all aspects of art and life are already well known, having cost him his academic career. As always, the ambition of the young can be counted on to outweigh admiration.

Mamoon's second wife, Liana, a fiery Italian, would like this biography to polish her husband's career, not paint a picture of a selfish, debauched artist. Harry's character explores the contradictions and conflicts of a biographer, in this case, leavened with his own powerful ambition. Liana quickly recognizes that the biographer has his own agenda of using this book to vault his own career, while she would like it to vault Mamoon's artistic reputation. Meanwhile, Mamoon is distant, insulting, and dismissive of Harry, and will barely grant him a conversation. Their brief, oblique discussions of writing and the artistic process, which Harry must tease out of Mamoon, lay out nuggets about art and life from Kureishi. 

To get this biography written, Harry embarks on a complex dance with all of them. On second thought, one of them might be a caricature: the hard drinking publisher, who pushes Harry & bait-&-switches him. The psychology of these, and other characters, is carefully developed by Kureishi, which gives blood to the heady ideas the book explores. A maid in the household, who has a complex history with Mamoon centered on reading, and a complex relationship with Harry, is a rewarding one. 

In an age of 240 character social media, Kureishi has important things to say about the art of writing. However, the author never takes the topic too seriously, and the novel can be quite funny at times. Highly recommend.

I'm going to borrow a phrase from my previous posting: "I don't read a lot of", in this case, thrillers. If I could find more thrillers like Charlie Huston's Skinner, I would read a lot more of them. Huston is a successful writer of edgie mysteries. His most recent novel, Skinner, is a post-9/11 thriller based in the world of the international security industry. It is a compelling story filled with exceptionally well developed characters. The story and the characters are all believable, which adds to the hook. Huston builds a complex story of a credible threat and the response by a large security firm and three ex-employees. Yes, there are good guys who are not so good, lots of double crosses, mixed alliances and a possible loose nuke. Skinner is an infamous agent with a strange resume. He is assigned an "asset" to protect, Jae, a gifted data analyst and robotics expert who is a bit fried. She has been hired to investigate a cyber attack on the U.S. power grid, which leads her to another plot involving what might be a nuke. Or...she is led to the other plot, by another former colleague from the grave. It's quite a  ride.

I don't read a lot of speculative fiction, or should I say "Victorian, historic, speculative, fantasy, steampunk" fiction. But, I am glad I read Natasha Pulley's The Watchmaker on Filigree Street. It is nicely plotted and filled with well drawn characters who orbit a mysterious Japanese watchmaker, Mori, in London of 1884. Mori is clairvoyant and might or might not be manipulative, evil, or dangerous. The workings of his clairvoyance is cleverly developed by Pulley. It brings him under suspicion for bombings by Clan na gael, a radical Irish nationalist group,and ties him to Nathaniel, a young telegraph clerk in the British government. Nathaniel is required to spy on Mori, a difficult position given his growing feelings for the watchmaker. Nathaniel becomes involved with a young physics student who does not trust Mori. Complications ensue.  There are some broad brush analogies developed between Clan na gael and the ultra nationalists of late 19th century Japan. The fantastical mechanical creatures that Mori makes, give the story a dash of steampunk. It is all quite an enjoyable and well written mix. I was easily drawn in despite my misgivings about the genre. Watchmaker is Pulley's first novel, she a is writer to key an eye on.

Submission, Michel Houellebecq. What's the excitement?

Michel Houellebecq, France’s former enfant terrible, has written another good novel, Submission. However, it’s not the novel that critics blasted as Islamophobic. Clearly those people did not read the book. Perhaps a half dozen of the 246 pages in the novel even mention Islam. Based on the outraged blurbs, I was expecting some incendiary material, but it’s not there. I would instead blast the book for sometimes boring me witless with commentary on obscure French novelists! Of course, I am exaggerating. Houellebecq offers some profound insights on universal issues of our times, or perhaps of any time.

Most of the book is quite academic. The protagonist is a French literature prof whose specialty is a nineteenth century French novelist, J.K. Huysmans. Huysmans' work, life, and eventual conversion to Catholicism are discussed and pondered at great length. Have you read any Huysmans? Neither have I. Many pages of the book are devoted to descriptions of the mechanics of the French political parties and how they interact and create winners in elections by forming alliances. Most of this was lost on me and quite dull. The link between these two topics is the conceit of the novel. I don’t have to worry about spoilers, I’m sure everyone already knows the story. Through an unusual political alliance, a Muslim, a highly skilled politician, is elected President of France. This occurs close to the end of the novel. Now, let me share some of Houellebecq’s crazy descriptions of life in France under Sharia law...except that there aren’t any. There are a few pages in the last chapter that mention one Islamic practice that is common in Iran, Afghanistan, Pakistan and much of Africa. Islamophobic? Hardly. He doesn’t even mention the pervasive human rights abuses that occur in those countries. The critics got us far off track from what he was writing about...

I soon began to appreciate the tapestry Houllebeq wove of Huysman’s conversion to Catholicism, the protagonist’s conversion to Islam on the last page of the book, and the real story of the novel: loneliness in middle-age, detachment, self-delusion, and disillusion. Key themes also are personal faith and a society living without faith.

Recent events in France were much more dramatic than these considerations. Recall that Houellebecq’s cartoon portrait was on the cover of Charlie Hebdo the day that jihadists massacred a dozen of his friends at the magazine. Michel now lives under police protection, although certainly it’s not needed for this novel. The French love to call Americans imperialists. However, it was France, with a population of 40 million at the time, that brutally subjugated 60 million people in colonies around the world. Many of  these countries gained their freedom through bloody civil wars, such as Algeria and Viet Nam, a.k.a French Indochina. So, there might be a perverse tie between this history and Houellebecq’s theme, although I’m not sure what he would think of my preceding observation. 

Submission is well worth reading, but not for all the inaccurate headlines. His previous novel, The Map and the Territory, has extraordinary writing about art, the gallery world, loneliness, and is not good, it's great. Comments on this novel are found in this blog.

Chance: A Novel - Kem Nunn

This year I read two recently published debut novels in a row by directors of writing programs at big name schools. Both had the same edgy writing-workshop structure: the entire novel was comprised of short paragraphs separated by four lines of space. Each paragraph was barely related to the next one in terms of chronology or subject. The book blurbs were glowing, something to the effect of, "A glimmering, unforgettable construction. Read this book now." In fact, they were completely forgettable, academic exercises that would have been more likely written in the late 1960s.

Today I finished the most recent novel by Kem Nunn, a writer I would guess these literati dismiss with a wave of the hand over a "craft cocktail" at a celebrity chef's restaurant. I was delighted to find a story, well developed characters, and OMG a plot. Chance: A Novel is a contemporary noir mystery that was a compelling read and very well written. This guy can really craft a sentence, which will probably not be recognized by the ivory tower because of his genre.

In this novel an expert witness physician becomes obsessed with a multi-personality client. She is being abused by her husband who is a dirty homicide detective. Along the way, Dr. Chance meets some wonderful, well-developed, believable characters. Carl is an elderly, elegant gay black man who deals in antiques, not always above board. He has a taste for young, violent, leather-boys. Nunn's portrait of Carl is very empathetic and touching, without being patronizing. Big D reconditions furniture for Carl. D is maybe ex-military, certainly well trained in martial arts, definitely huge, and probably mentally ill. He becomes a philosophical street adviser to Chance, and a big help as Doc tries to rescue the damsel in distress. There is some great word-smithing in this noir.

Wichita - Thad Ziolkowski

I picked up Thad Ziolkowski’s 2012 debut novel, Wichita, based on reviews that posed a son returning home & storm chasing with his colorful mom. Implications of metaphysical ponderings lit up my radar. Well…the novel turned out to be a coming of age story, which I usually avoid like the plague. Being 25 years old once was enough for me. However, this time, I became quite attached to the two brothers of this tale. Lewis Chopnik is a broken hearted, failed academic, who has returned home to nurse his wounds & wonder what's next. His divorced mother is a "polyamorous" self-discovery tornado, who is starting a storm chasing business. What she's really looking for could have been more sharply articulated, but she is a hoot, nevertheless. Lewis is rightfully dismayed to discover that his brother Seth is on the homestead. Seth is a bi-polar drug ingesting force of nature, extraordinarily manipulative of his family, and probably dangerous. I was prepared to be annoyed with him & ditch the book, but instead I became quite fond of him Some of Seth's cadre of hard drinking losers are not keepers as characters. Their father is a highly regarded academic, as well as their grandfather. They both skirt the edges of the story enough to realize that mom & dad didn't read the parenting manual.  It's a fast read, but not surprisingly, with a dark ending.

The Apartment - Greg Baxter

The Apartment

is a quiet, graceful novel, that draws one in. This is Greg Baxter's debut novel and it is a strong showing. I normally don't enjoy stories that are built around the events of one day. But through substantive looks into the past, and reflections on the meaning of it, this one worked well. An unnamed 40ish American veteran spends a day looking for an apartment in an unnamed European city. He is helped by a local woman who he has befriended. Their short relationship is somehow trusting, with clear boundaries, & yet gently evolving. The real story, however, is the slow revelation of the man's life, which is woven into the events of this day. We learn of his parents & childhood, as well as his many years on submarines and then tours in Iraq with the Navy, and also as a contractor. This history is imparted briefly and unobtrusively. The man reflects on the meaning of these years and seems to aspire to a simpler life in which he can be more honest with himself. Baxter also webs in discussions of playing the violin, the development of perspective in painting, playing billiards, and Mozart vs. Bach. Somehow these conversations fit seamlessly into the story. Baxter's writing is spare and elegant, and I found myself gripped by the prose as if this were a mystery or thriller. It certainly is not a thriller. But, Baxter perhaps deals with the mysteries of how we define ourselves and live with ourselves. I look forward to his next novel.

 

Burning Down George Orwell's House - Andrew Ervin

Burning Down George Orwell’s House is a novel of big ideas and lots of fun. This seems to be a rare combination today. Many current novels are either painfully self-conscious, or romps of destructive characters careening through life. So, hats off to Andrew Ervin who has created a well balanced read in his debut hovel. Ray Welter, a young advertising exec, burns out with pangs of guilt over his successful campaign that effectively used social media. A George Orwell fan, Ray connects the dots and believes that the current intrusive iteration of social media has placed us squarely in 1984. With his marriage falling apart, he heads for the remote Scottish island of Jura to live in George Orwell’s cabin & ponder his life until his money runs out. He doesn’t get a warm welcome from the locals who are intent on preserving their history and culture from the likes of him. Enter many colorful characters. Did I mention that Ray likes Scotch whiskey a little too much? If you are a Scotch aficionado, you could read this book just for the reflections on single malts.  His old boss is recruiting him hard for a new firm, as Ray signs his divorce papers. Ray does return home to Chicago, and opts for a simpler life, although he’s still finding himself. Well, so am I.

 

F, a novel. Daniel Kehlmann

F is a thought provoking and wonderfully written/translated novel by the young German author Daniel Kehlmann. It is the story of a father and three sons, from two failed marriages, who all are finding their way in the world with some difficulty. The father is a wanna-be writer and free spirit who walks out on two marriages. His children are damaged goods, each in their own way, but with a lot of common ground. Every reviewer speculates what the “F” stands for. Failure? Forgery? Fraud?

Each chapter is in the voice of one of the characters and tells his story and evokes his psyche. Son number one is an athiest Catholic priest. He is quite likeable in his wandering “what do I make of the world” thoughts. A pair of identical twins are from dad’s second marriage. One is a mentally unstable financial advisor, whose agnst is palpable. His twin is, like dad, a wanna-be. In this case he’s a painter, who in fact becomes very successful: by forging a body of work that is sold as the paintings of his long-time lover. I found this character to be quite intriguing and was impressed by Kehlmann's thoughts on making art, the art world, and forgery vs “real”.

That sense of forgery versus real is perhaps the heart of all the characters and the novel. In a very real sense, these men are not frauds. Like all of us, they are trying to find their way to who they truly are in this world and have settled for a compromise version of this. Kehlmann, by contrast, is the real deal. He is an author to watch for.

Lost for Words, Edward St. Aubyn

I’m generally an easy mark for books about writing, so I happily read Lost For Words. Edward St. Aubyn created a clever satire of writing prizes, wrapped in a British comedy of manners. He has a sharp eye and pen for the human condition, and the difference between our public and private personas. Each chapter is from the perspective of one of the vividly portrayed characters: judges, writers, editors, poseurs, lovers, and lovers scorned. Usually, I don’t enjoy this multi-view format. But St. Aubyn really captured the voice of these characters, their views, prejudices, and blind spots, despite being written in the third person. Often when I read books in this structure I find the author’s voice droning on in each character, but not so in Lost For Words. Most chapters have some wonderful one-liners in that character’s voice and world-view, but somehow universally applicable to all of us: “…she had the special affliction of a novelist, of wanting to be the author of her own fate and take charge of a narrative whose opening chapters had been written by others with terrifying carelessness.”

The squabbles between the judges were priceless, especially if you’ve ever cast a jaundiced eye at the treatment of writing, music or art by the haughty academics of the ‘60s & ‘70s, who somehow still hold sway in our world. One judge’s trumpeting of “relevance” made me laugh & cry, it was so true to life and annoying! I tip my hat to St. Aubyn for capturing it, along with many other forms of hubris, with such a light touch. Have fun!