An uneven debut offering an imagination a touch too fond of novelty, a bit too carried away with its own fictive swagger,...
Brock follows his debut novel (The Ordinary White Boy, p. 960) with a prizewinning first collection of 14 stories: a flat if engaging thrum along the themes of loss and despair, in working-class upstate New York, in which mostly male characters find themselves confused in midlife.
While not masterful in his execution, Brock is inventive in his devices: in “Starving,” “a group of fathers in Little Falls decided . . . to starve themselves to death.” Despairing over their sons’ failures in marriage and work, the dads wage a group hunger strike—and thus enact a parable of father/son relational dynamics writ large. In “Specify the Learners,” an adult male finds himself in 6th grade again. Having failed the grade as a boy, and believing that failure to be the source of all his future shame, he seeks to mend the youthful gap—but finds his teacher, as well as a young girl, sexually attracted to him. Such extreme situations are a staple of Brock’s fiction here: a man’s hand is severed (in “Compensation”), and its recovery raises deep questions about loyalty and duty to a friend In “Plowing the Secondaries,” another man falls in love, plans a future with, and finally has his heart broken by a corpse of a woman tossed into a snowbank. And in “She Loved to Cook But Not Like This,” a man introduces himself as the arsonist behind the burning of the Emily Dickenson house in Amherst.. The most conventional story here, “The World, Dirty Like a Heart,” details the breakdown of a high-school teacher’s marriage after a colleague falls in love with a 17-year-old student. The author’s rare attempt to narrate in a woman’s voice, “A Cabin on a Lake,” is unconvincing, and lacks the gritty, mauled prose of the other pieces here.
An uneven debut offering an imagination a touch too fond of novelty, a bit too carried away with its own fictive swagger, and a bit too droll in its emotional reticence to capture a reader’s enduring interest.Pub Date: Feb. 1, 2001
ISBN: 1-889330-67-1
Page Count: 176
Publisher: Sarabande
Review Posted Online: May 19, 2010
Kirkus Reviews Issue: Dec. 1, 2001
It's being called a novel, but it is more a hybrid: short-stories/essays/confessions about the Vietnam War—the subject that O'Brien reasonably comes back to with every book. Some of these stories/memoirs are very good in their starkness and factualness: the title piece, about what a foot soldier actually has on him (weights included) at any given time, lends a palpability that makes the emotional freight (fear, horror, guilt) correspond superbly. Maybe the most moving piece here is "On The Rainy River," about a draftee's ambivalence about going, and how he decided to go: "I would go to war—I would kill and maybe die—because I was embarrassed not to." But so much else is so structurally coy that real effects are muted and disadvantaged: O'Brien is writing a book more about earnestness than about war, and the peekaboos of this isn't really me but of course it truly is serve no true purpose. They make this an annoyingly arty book, hiding more than not behind Hemingwayesque time-signatures and puerile repetitions about war (and memory and everything else, for that matter) being hell and heaven both. A disappointment.
Pub Date: March 28, 1990
ISBN: 0618706410
Page Count: 256
Publisher: Houghton Mifflin
Review Posted Online: Oct. 2, 2011
Kirkus Reviews Issue: Feb. 15, 1990
SEEN & HEARD
IN THE NEWS
SEEN & HEARD
This book sings with the terrible silence of dead civilizations in which once there was valor.
Written with quiet dignity that builds to a climax of tragic force, this book about the dissolution of an African tribe, its traditions, and values, represents a welcome departure from the familiar "Me, white brother" genre.
Written by a Nigerian African trained in missionary schools, this novel tells quietly the story of a brave man, Okonkwo, whose life has absolute validity in terms of his culture, and who exercises his prerogative as a warrior, father, and husband with unflinching single mindedness. But into the complex Nigerian village filters the teachings of strangers, teachings so alien to the tribe, that resistance is impossible. One must distinguish a force to be able to oppose it, and to most, the talk of Christian salvation is no more than the babbling of incoherent children. Still, with his guns and persistence, the white man, amoeba-like, gradually absorbs the native culture and in despair, Okonkwo, unable to withstand the corrosion of what he, alone, understands to be the life force of his people, hangs himself. In the formlessness of the dying culture, it is the missionary who takes note of the event, reminding himself to give Okonkwo's gesture a line or two in his work, The Pacification of the Primitive Tribes of the Lower Niger.
This book sings with the terrible silence of dead civilizations in which once there was valor.Pub Date: Jan. 23, 1958
ISBN: 0385474547
Page Count: 207
Publisher: McDowell, Obolensky
Review Posted Online: April 23, 2013
Kirkus Reviews Issue: Jan. 1, 1958
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