vestige.org

This piece originally appeared in issue 83 of Canadian Notes & Queries under the title “Half In Love With Death.” Viktor Frankl, founder of the Viennese school of existential psychotherapy called “logotherapy,” wrote that happiness cannot be pursued; it must ensue. One must have a reason to “be happy.” Once the reason is found, however, one becomes happy automatically. As we see, a human being is not one in pursuit of happiness but rather in search of a reason to become happy, last but not least, through actualizing the potential meaning inherent and dormant in a given situation. There is just such an existential void at the core of Exit (Paradis, clef en main, 2009, ably translated by David Scott Hamilton), Nelly Arcan’s final novel. Antoinette Beauchamp, who narrates from her hospital bed—left paraplegic after a failed suicide attempt involving a guillotine—has spent her entire life unhappy, dominated by a… Continue Reading →

Full disclosure: I consider Rob a friend, though I by no means claim membership in the Circle, and Rob knows that I have enough respect for him to be unflinchingly honest in my assessment of this book—indeed, because I respect him, I could not behave otherwise. (Besides, he knows enough of my secrets to be dangerous…) As I said recently in my post on Nick Tosches’ Country, one of the great joys of good music writing is that you can enjoy it without necessarily being a fan of the subject matter. As Rob would be the first to tell you, if you were to draw a Venn diagram of our tastes, outside of the literary world there would be very little overlap. (The Grateful Dead, Rob? Really?) I can’t claim to be a Tramp, or even a particular fan of Bruce Springsteen, though I don’t dislike his music by any… Continue Reading →

One of the things I like about good music writing is, somewhat surprisingly, something it has in common with good sports writing: you don’t have to be a fan of the subject matter to enjoy it. For the most part, I don’t care for country music. I like Johnny Cash, two or three bluegrass acts, and a handful of early country performers who would just as easily be classified as “roots” or even blues musicians (Tosches takes a few not-very-convincing steps towards explaining this in Country, but the truth is that for a long time the only significant difference between country and blues was the race of the performer), but for the most part it’s not a genre I connect with. I did, however, get a lot of satisfaction out of reading Country. Country covers, or claims to cover, the darker, stranger bits of country music’s history, but given that… Continue Reading →

Appropriately titled, the common denominator across nearly all of the stories in Toronto-based author Derek Hayes’ first collection is a character who is so wrapped up in themselves, has internalized their neuroses to such a degree, that they have become unable to see the reality of their position in the world and the truth of their relationships to others. Many are merely oblivious (see Steven W. Beattie’s recent blog post on “Green Jerseys” for an excellent in-depth look at a particular example), while others have deeper issues. Anxiety is a constant companion to nearly all of Hayes’ characters. In “Maybe You Should Get Back There,” Max lives with his girlfriend Nadia, and Chris, an old friend from school, and can’t stop imagining that they are having, or want to have, an affair. He obsesses over the dynamics of their relationship, giving undue weight to casual conversations and comments, leading to… Continue Reading →

I mentioned in an earlier post that this year I’m going to make an effort to reacquaint myself with my nerdy roots, and true to my word I’ve already begun in earnest. I’ve finished the first book from my three-volume H.P. Lovecraft collection, three more Ian Rankin novels (a different kind of nerdy) and this morning while waiting for my alarm to sound, I polished off The Anubis Gates by Tim Powers. “But wait,” you say (don’t argue, I heard you quite clearly), “the title of this post is Steampunk 101; that’s pretty specifically nerdy.” Well, yes it is. Allow me to explain. Last year I reviewed two novels, Alex and the Ironic Gentleman, by Adrienne Kress, and Triptych, by J.M. Frey (both of which were excellent), and I have—sort of, in a very limited way—started to get to know both authors online and that, in turn, got me interested… Continue Reading →

I’ve been reading The Children’s Book recently, and came across a passage that struck me as important. If you want to understand A.S. Byatt’s work, not the whole of it, of course (post title notwithstanding), but the catalyst, the detonator, the idea that acts as the prime mover, you’d do well to think very hard about this passage. All you need to know in advance is that the book takes place in early Edwardian England, and that Patty Dace, Arthur Dobbin, and Rev. Frank Mallett have decide to organize a lecture series, and are meeting to discuss the topic and potential lecturers. She put on her spectacles, and said to Frank that they should perhaps find a title for a series. Dobbin said he thought they should find exciting speakers first, and then make up a title. Although Dobbin had been shy and ill-at-ease at Todefright he felt in retrospect… Continue Reading →