A literary eruption, is that a thing, if that’s a thing, it just happened over here, out comes a saddened–>tortured love cry, a near-epic struggle twisted forward and within and out of over a bitty 34 pages, the story of Poisonhorse shrieks, as the horse and the poison the narrator gives it and the bears and the rats and the lady in the cistern and etc. burrow their way into you, as you begin to see yourself as one of the severed heads in the bear’s belly, as what you thought to call love expands and then immediately bursts in your hands.
Here we get forty full-blast voices from Chicago personalities and icons, spitting their perspectives on what made them part of Chicago history, revealing pieces to their puzzles in extraordinarily clever and insightful ways, as Czyzniejewski’s fiction takes us places we didn’t know we could go–Obama decades in the future telling us about his perfect bowling game, Dennis Rodman on the marks he’s left on himself and our culture, Pat Sajak digging deeper on what the spinning wheel really means–all these fabulous stories in that fine city’s celebrity landscape squeezed open, Czyzniejewski conjuring up fantastic possibilities beyond, further, because of.
These stories are like a friend’s dad sitting down to talk to you and after a few minutes you realize he’s seen a lot more than you ever will and is possibly dangerous, but that’s a good thing and you want him to keep talking.
Before I get to my single sentence review, I would like to say a few things. First, doing this series of single-sentence reviews has been a joy, and hopefully our readers liked them too.
Secondly, Scott McClanahan, the subject of this SSR, happens to be reading tonight in Atlanta for the Solar Anus reading series at Beep Beep Gallery along-side the lovely ladies of the Southern Comfort Book Tour. If you are in the area, it would be really great if you would join us, because it’s going to be a tremendous time.
Last reminder: the Very Vouched Birthday party will take place tomorrow evening, Wednesday, July, 18th, at the Goatfarm at 7pm. Hope to see you there!
The American South and all of its absurd calamity has been bound in these pages–volatile and jocular, hopeful but quick to throw a punch.
This may seem weird or incestuous of me to write an SSR for a book that is 2/3rd’s Vouched people but, fuck it- you need to read it. Plus Tyler Gobble is on a mega roadtrip right now and we need to celebrate that.
So, here we go:
It is said that triumvirates are all a ruse, that no three can wield power equally- but these collections are equilateral in strength- so Gobble, Oliu, and Newgent have accomplished something here that Caesar, Magnus, and Crassus couldn’t.