As Return of the Reluctant readers know, last year we signed a contract with a well-dressed man who happened to have a pair of horns. The man promised that we would have great artistic success and that, one way or another, we would somehow learn to play more than pentatonic scales on our guitar, wowing audiences with our preternatural abilities. The one proviso, of course, was that we note any and all Jonathan Ames developments on this blog.
As of yet, we have yet to play like John Lee Hooker or Stevie Ray Vaughan and the phone number on the red-horned man’s business card is “disconnected or no longer in service.” (If anyone else knows how to get a hold of “Beezle Bob Harris,” please let me know.) But as we’re men of our word, we must note that Jonathan Ames has made yet another unwonted nonfiction appearance over at the New York Observer. The piece involves tennis, a subway conversation and many other amazing things.
(We should also note that Mr. Ames now has an Observer email address. Does this mean a regular return to nonfiction?)
The Call by Yannick Murphy: The always interesting author of Here They Come and Signed, Mata Hari returns with a novel that whips up a worldview from a rather quirky set of limitations: namely, the call logs that a veterinarian maintains as his son is unexpectedly put into a coma and an unforgiving economy denies him work. What emerges is a surprisingly optimistic, often funny, and very moving account on how one family uses acceptance and forgiveness as a way to atone for hard knocks. (
Birds of Paradise by Diana Abu-Jaber: Forget Franzen and Eugenides. If you're looking for a social novel that counts, Diana Abu-Jaber is the author you're looking for. Building from the free-form exploration of consciousness and identity in Crescent and the gripping procedural structure of Origin, Abu-Jaber's latest novel is her finest, equally fluent with gutterpunk culture and smarmy real estate men. It has been suggested by The Washington Post's Ron Charles that you will likely gain some pounds while reading this novel. This is certainly true. Abu-Jaber's description of food is so precise that it often made me want to do more cooking. But I very much admired the way in which Abu-Jaber presents all her characters as unwitting victims of rough capitalism, which permits them some dignity even as they perform terrible acts.
The Last of the Live Nude Girls by Sheila McClear: This memoir isn't so much about the decline of the Times Square peepshow, as it is about one young woman's efforts to pull herself up by by her bootstraps when presented with few economic options. Filled with self-introspective candor and a quiet dignity, McClear's story is one that might befall any of us in these volatile times. While McClear does get back on her feet, her book leads one contemplating the terrible fates of other young women now moving to New York and falling into deadlier vocations. (
I believe Mr. Harris is now the deputy director at FEMA.