Tag Archives: HarperPerennial

Hello, sorrow
Cécile , make no mistake, is a little brat. But I liked her. I could tolerate her. Because what saves this novel from Cécile’s push-and-pull of admissible naïveté and plain cruelty is the self-awareness of the adult-Cécile that narrates this story. We’re not talking to seventeen-year-old Cécile here—we’re being told about her by a decidedly more sane version of her. We can share in that Cécile’s careful remorse, her frustration with herself, her younger self, and her shenanigans. It’s the gift of hindsight, one that’s never abused as to coerce us into un-subtle meditations on the follies of youth. And it’s this hindsight that, somehow, lets us forgive Cécile her faults—it’s what lets one deal with the seventeen-year-old running amok the French Riviera; after all, who among us haven’t been this stupidly full of ourselves—or wished we were, then. And, perhaps, even now. [Continue reading.]
“The churn of a secret life.”
Our unnamed diarist in her happy-enough marriage with the Dependable Husband. Sure, he’s flawed, but these aren’t shattering imperfections. They’ve dealt with it—she has, she loves him, she knows she does. Why wouldn’t she otherwise? She’s not really unhappy. But. You know. Being not unhappy yet happy-enough doesn’t guarantee your being happy. Being not unhappy […]
Thirteen Points on The Gospel of Anarchy, Justin Taylor, and my confused sense of Reader Self
#40 of 2011 • The Gospel of Anarchy, by Justin Taylor 1 – September if last year, I read Taylor’s debut short story collection, Everything Here is the Best Thing Ever, and found the experience rather disquieting. There’s immense talent—this author’s voice is definitely fresh [meandering at times, taut at others, glib, sometimes tender—but I […]