It’s been a while since I’ve done this. I got off track because I took a trip ou

It’s been a while since I’ve done this. I got off track because I took a trip out to New York for a wedding two weeks ago, which involved me not sleeping a lot, drinking too much, and getting escorted out of a hotel room by a guy who looked like Ronnie the Limo Driver backed up by two cops. I lost a suit jacket but stole one as a replacement. That isn’t a figure of speech.Needless to say I read this about a week ago but just never really got around to functioning or thinking until this week, because last week was spent detoxing and reflecting on how every time I go on one of those long drinking binges after I feel sad and confused, which I think is because I so suddenly shift from seeing all the people I love to being in an apartment by myself not knowing when it’ll be the next time I talk to someone. Jarring enough to get you to masturbate five times in a row just to feel some sort of pleasure, albeit an only semi-tumescent one.I started reading this one night on a bus while drunk and only half-taking in what was being said, but I was blown away by the imagery. Hemon likes similes as much as the next guy, probably more, and he uses some great terminology in this one to which I can’t cite because the book currently is not with me. I guess you’ll have to take my word. Take my word, strangers who started following because you read my fake Junot Diaz quote.There’s also the fact that the stories vary. I’ve heard all this bullshit about how a short story collection should be thematically and structurally consistent, like an album, but that’s stupid because music and literature are consumed so differently that how can that idea ever be valid. Some of the stories I didn’t like (one about a spy with FUCKING FOOTNOTES STOP THIS EN VOGUE CONTEMPORARY CRIBBING), but others I loved, a long story about a displaced Bosnian in Chicago, a story about an editor of video footage from the Bosnian War, a short Babel-esque story about the Archduke Franz Ferdinand, right before his assassination. I’d rather read a collection of stories wherein I love some and hate others rather than finish a collection and feel safe and lukewarm due to having the same voice and themes hammered into my head.I’m looking forward to reading more of this guy. His American caricatures felt a little over-the-top, but maybe because I’m just not aware of how obnoxious we are. He paints a lot of beautiful things and uses the two best emotions, sadness and humor, most effectively. -- source link

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