These are not happy little stories. Not that stories need to
be happy, of course, but these are depressing in the “this is how life is” kind
of way. These are upper class people, for the most part- academics, artists,
writers, architects- all people who are well educated. These are people who
read Shakespeare to unwind and are too high brow to watch TV- even public TV.
These are also people who are very self-aware, which makes you wonder why they
continue with their self-destructive behaviors, knowing where it will lead
them.
For these are people who seem to be all about sex and drugs
and alcohol- but no rock and roll; they listen only to classical. Or perhaps
some early jazz. They never met an impulse they didn’t like, and they follow
through on them pretty much every time. A lot of the main characters are
fighting against aging, and the disappointment of not having lived the lives
they feel they deserved. They will not go gently into that good night; they
will go staggering and slurring, with bottles of Viagra clutched in their hands
as they reach for the next young sexual conquest, talking wittily the whole
while.
The stories are arranged in a progression; they work their
way through sex, to drugs and alcohol, and finally make it to illness and
death. Only the last story-the title story, the death story- ends on a hopeful
note, with people acting for the long run rather than the immediate impulse.
The characters are nearly interchangeable story to story; person who fails in
their profession, aging person trying to hold back time by having sex with
younger people, person who has spouse but can’t resist having sex with other
people, person who drinks too much/does speed/does heroin/smokes too much pot.
I suppose the point of the stories is that we’re all, even the most respected of
us, animals when it comes down to it.
The stories may be devoid of likable characters, but they are
brilliantly written, rather as if noir was written by intellectuals. I think
the self-awareness of the narrators makes the stories different from most. They
compel a person to keep reading; it’s like being held by a tale at a cocktail
party, held by an ancient mariner in tweed.
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I received this book from the Amazon Vine program in return for a fair review.
Neither of these things influenced my review.
Sounds like some people I know. I think I will skip the sad drama even though it might be, as you suggest, well written.
ReplyDeleteDarla