A somber but consistently intriguing clutch of heartland tales.
A serial killer, car wrecks, suicide, alcoholism—everyday life in a prairie town gets dark in this debut set of linked stories.
The 11 stories in this short but emotionally dense collection all take place in a Chicago exurb that’s hit the skids. A trailer park decimated by fire has been converted into a paintball park with a post-apocalyptic theme, but the casino is doing brisk business, as is the prison. That’s where Hartley, a successful commodities trader, resides after having been convicted of vehicular manslaughter, an incident that’s had a broad impact. His wife, Glennis, has descended deeper into an alcoholism that’s already been stoked by a rough past, including the murder of her hard-drinking mother by the “Soyfield Strangler.” Victor, whose wife, Sonia, Hartley killed, sublimates his grief by spraying pesticides on the cemetery he runs, which eradicates the dreaded oak beetles but kills plenty of birds as well. (“Conventional grief management it ain’t, but it just feels good to waste those little fuckers.”) His sister-in-law, Allie, is trying to help Victor while navigating a flailing marriage. The stories don’t follow a linear path—the book begins the day before Hartley’s release but jumps around in time from, say, Glennis as a teenager to an intervention Hartley attempted shortly before the accident. That indirect approach can make it difficult to discern where we are in time and relationships, but disorientation is one of Harper’s goals—he wants to establish the town as a place rife with unlikely deaths and near-death experiences, dark secrets, and broken relationships. Harper occasionally has his characters voice some only-in-a-novel profundities to get that point over, but he’s also accessed a plainspoken but effectively moody prose style that gets into the details of each character’s life while suggesting a larger storm cloud that makes his setting Bad News, U.S.A.
A somber but consistently intriguing clutch of heartland tales.Pub Date: Aug. 8, 2017
ISBN: 978-1-5011-4735-7
Page Count: 224
Publisher: Scribner
Review Posted Online: June 4, 2017
Kirkus Reviews Issue: June 15, 2017
A modern day fable, with modern implications in a deceiving simplicity, by the author of Dickens. Dali and Others (Reynal & Hitchcock, p. 138), whose critical brilliance is well adapted to this type of satire. This tells of the revolt on a farm, against humans, when the pigs take over the intellectual superiority, training the horses, cows, sheep, etc., into acknowledging their greatness. The first hints come with the reading out of a pig who instigated the building of a windmill, so that the electric power would be theirs, the idea taken over by Napoleon who becomes topman with no maybes about it. Napoleon trains the young puppies to be his guards, dickers with humans, gradually instigates a reign of terror, and breaks the final commandment against any animal walking on two legs. The old faithful followers find themselves no better off for food and work than they were when man ruled them, learn their final disgrace when they see Napoleon and Squealer carousing with their enemies... A basic statement of the evils of dictatorship in that it not only corrupts the leaders, but deadens the intelligence and awareness of those led so that tyranny is inevitable. Mr. Orwell's animals exist in their own right, with a narrative as individual as it is apt in political parody.
Pub Date: Aug. 26, 1946
ISBN: 0452277507
Page Count: 114
Publisher: Harcourt, Brace
Review Posted Online: Nov. 2, 2011
Kirkus Reviews Issue: Aug. 1, 1946
The Brat Pack meets The Bacchae in this precious, way-too-long, and utterly unsuspenseful town-and-gown murder tale. A bunch of ever-so-mandarin college kids in a small Vermont school are the eager epigones of an aloof classics professor, and in their exclusivity and snobbishness and eagerness to please their teacher, they are moved to try to enact Dionysian frenzies in the woods. During the only one that actually comes off, a local farmer happens upon them—and they kill him. But the death isn't ruled a murder—and might never have been if one of the gang—a cadging sybarite named Bunny Corcoran—hadn't shown signs of cracking under the secret's weight. And so he too is dispatched. The narrator, a blank-slate Californian named Richard Pepen chronicles the coverup. But if you're thinking remorse-drama, conscience masque, or even semi-trashy who'll-break-first? page-turner, forget it: This is a straight gee-whiz, first-to-have-ever-noticed college novel—"Hampden College, as a body, was always strangely prone to hysteria. Whether from isolation, malice, or simple boredom, people there were far more credulous and excitable than educated people are generally thought to be, and this hermetic, overheated atmosphere made it a thriving black petri dish of melodrama and distortion." First-novelist Tartt goes muzzy when she has to describe human confrontations (the murder, or sex, or even the ping-ponging of fear), and is much more comfortable in transcribing aimless dorm-room paranoia or the TV shows that the malefactors anesthetize themselves with as fate ticks down. By telegraphing the murders, Tartt wants us to be continually horrified at these kids—while inviting us to semi-enjoy their manneristic fetishes and refined tastes. This ersatz-Fitzgerald mix of moralizing and mirror-looking (Jay McInerney shook and poured the shaker first) is very 80's—and in Tartt's strenuous version already seems dated, formulaic. Les Nerds du Mal—and about as deep (if not nearly as involving) as a TV movie.
Pub Date: Sept. 16, 1992
ISBN: 1400031702
Page Count: 592
Publisher: Knopf
Review Posted Online: May 19, 2010
Kirkus Reviews Issue: July 1, 1992
BOOK REVIEW
BOOK REVIEW
SEEN & HEARD
SEEN & HEARD
SEEN & HEARD
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