Insightful, stimulating, and unforgettable tales.
In Lawson’s (A Patrimony of Fishes, 1997) short story collection, dynamic characters struggle to stay together or gradually drift apart.
In “The Mushroom Hunter,” a man named Chundo is looking for a rare fungus, but at the heart of the story is the fact that the narrator, Barnaby, idolizes him—a fact that Chundo has used to his advantage for years. Each of these character-driven tales, primarily set in California, astutely examines interpersonal relationships. In “My Year Under the Dog Star,” for example, a man named Scott must deal with the animosity between his fiancee, Kelly, and his venture capitalist father, Ted. Ted gifts Scott with a new dog, but it doesn’t get along with the canine that the couple already have; indeed, the animals are literally at each other’s throats—an apt representation of Ted and Kelly’s dynamic. In the sublime “House on Bear Mountain,” April and her young daughter, Claire, lose husband and father Alec, and they fight to hang on to his lake house, which his brother and sister-in-law believe is rightfully theirs. Although many stories provide at least some humor, the endings are generally somber or unsettling—though certainly memorable. For example, in “Catch the Air,” Gordon’s father, Cris Hogart, once a member of a popular music group, has just turned 75. Although the story initially uses Cris as comic relief, it’s clear by the end that he’s not a happy man. The book concludes with two exceptional tales: “The Beekeeper of Río Momón” and the titular story, which both take truly chilling turns; in the first, characters search for a friend in South America, and in the second, a group goes into the woods to film a staged Bigfoot video. Lawson’s taut, graphic prose sparkles, as in this passage from “House on Bear Mountain”: “The tape clicks into place in the amped-up sound system, and the soundtrack of the movie of Claude’s miserable life begins, sung by a resurrected chorus of 1980s American girl bands.”
Insightful, stimulating, and unforgettable tales.Pub Date: Nov. 15, 2018
ISBN: 978-1-59709-692-8
Page Count: 214
Publisher: Red Hen Press
Review Posted Online: Jan. 22, 2019
Kirkus Reviews Issue: March 15, 2019
Review Program: Kirkus Indie
The story's very ambiguity steadily feeds its mysteriousness and power, and Danielewski's mastery of postmodernist and...
An amazingly intricate and ambitious first novel - ten years in the making - that puts an engrossing new spin on the traditional haunted-house tale.
Texts within texts, preceded by intriguing introductory material and followed by 150 pages of appendices and related "documents" and photographs, tell the story of a mysterious old house in a Virginia suburb inhabited by esteemed photographer-filmmaker Will Navidson, his companion Karen Green (an ex-fashion model), and their young children Daisy and Chad. The record of their experiences therein is preserved in Will's film The Davidson Record - which is the subject of an unpublished manuscript left behind by a (possibly insane) old man, Frank Zampano - which falls into the possession of Johnny Truant, a drifter who has survived an abusive childhood and the perverse possessiveness of his mad mother (who is institutionalized). As Johnny reads Zampano's manuscript, he adds his own (autobiographical) annotations to the scholarly ones that already adorn and clutter the text (a trick perhaps influenced by David Foster Wallace's Infinite Jest) - and begins experiencing panic attacks and episodes of disorientation that echo with ominous precision the content of Davidson's film (their house's interior proves, "impossibly," to be larger than its exterior; previously unnoticed doors and corridors extend inward inexplicably, and swallow up or traumatize all who dare to "explore" their recesses). Danielewski skillfully manipulates the reader's expectations and fears, employing ingeniously skewed typography, and throwing out hints that the house's apparent malevolence may be related to the history of the Jamestown colony, or to Davidson's Pulitzer Prize-winning photograph of a dying Vietnamese child stalked by a waiting vulture. Or, as "some critics [have suggested,] the house's mutations reflect the psychology of anyone who enters it."
The story's very ambiguity steadily feeds its mysteriousness and power, and Danielewski's mastery of postmodernist and cinema-derived rhetoric up the ante continuously, and stunningly. One of the most impressive excursions into the supernatural in many a year.Pub Date: March 6, 2000
ISBN: 0-375-70376-4
Page Count: 704
Publisher: Pantheon
Review Posted Online: May 19, 2010
Kirkus Reviews Issue: Feb. 1, 2000
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
© Copyright 2024 Kirkus Media LLC. All Rights Reserved.
Follow
Popular in this Genre
We can’t wait for you to join Kirkus!
It’s free and takes less than 10 seconds!
Already have an account? Log in.
OR
Sign in with GoogleTrouble signing in? Retrieve credentials.
Welcome Back!
OR
Sign in with GoogleTrouble signing in? Retrieve credentials.
bookshelf
