A Brief History of Seven Killings

Historical Fiction is not a genre I ever really expected to get into. The idea of history, even if possibly semi-accurate, reminded me of school and felt dusty. I’m pretty sure Don Delillo’s books broke me out of this mindset. His major work Underworld is big on my list. It didn’t hurt that his books based in history that I did read were set in the 60’s, the decade I was meant to be alive in. I’ve read some others, including heavyweight E.L. Doctorow and even pushed on to some actual Non-Fiction (I love Havana Nocturne, by T.J. English) but these have been phases or quick runs and have not remained steady choices. So what’s your problem Bro? The thought of wiping a thin film off some tome from the attic was stuck in my head. Something felt like assigned reading. Couldn’t do it, even in detention.

This concept was crushed by A Brief History of Seven Killings. Not solely because the history it deals with is fairly recent but more that the subject of the story has been something I’ve at least thought I’ve known about since I was a kid, the attempted assassination of Bob Marley.

Can I safely guess we all had a Bob phase as kids? And that most days we would rather be reliving that phase instead of waking up for work? We do mainline nostalgia here at the Bro sometimes, but lets take it a little farther. Can it be possible to grab that past fondness and pull it into today and, oh man repeat metaphors, dust it off and see it new? Ok, slow down Bro, but this is what Seven Killings did for me.

Understand, this is not the story of Bob Marley for grown ups. He is not the main character, only the point the different narratives revolve around for a large part of the story. He is referred to only as the Singer and exists as a shadow. Facets of his life that are less than CD booklet friendly are woven in, they really pop up and fade as a subtext, maybe a soundtrack. If you were ever a Bob junkie they will be familiar at first and then a little unsettling. The documentary Marley that came out a few years ago did this too, we now know Bob was kind of a dick sometimes, but Killings makes the rumors alive, they crawl and show themselves and hide again. There are surprising or maybe shocking moments but then the story rolls on. Things I knew were affirmed and new things surprised me. But this is historical fiction, not a documentary, so we have to let these pieces remain suggestion, even mystery.

Actual events and the real horrors of Jamaican ghettos in the 70s were not as familiar to me as details of the Singer’s life. Killings doesn’t go over them like a text book, though after a while the horrors are so frequent they do feel like a list and this does get a little tiring. The book is endlessly brutal. But the voices keep it moving.

A lesser writer could have tried to stretch each narrative into a complete novel. Gang lords, CIA Agents, Groupies, Hippie Writers, a Ghost and more I may have forgotten each get their chapters. The story is long but its complexity through these different points of view pull it more towards a spy novel or some massive generation-spanning thriller than straightforward historical fiction. Not every piece is nail biting or suspenseful and at these times the small facts about the Singer or other pop culture fragments of the times carry things along, but you feel something building, and the lives of the characters matter.

That being said, please let me indulge and introduce the best new bad guy of modern literature. Here he is, Mr. Josey Wales. He’s a murdering thug on his way to kingpin status positioned directly opposite the Singer. Their lives are driven together, they circle each other then bounce off into different violent directions. We question the Singer the most through Josey's eyes. If we give his voice its fair moment, we can question a lot more. Despite being the most prolific killer of the book, his words are also the most pragmatic. His philosophies are cruel and realistic and if we believe their stance in opposition to the Singer’s words a vortex is created that pulls us down even below the story into the depths of the book that may be hard to come out of.

Easy, Bro. I’m just saying he’s my favorite part. He’s better than Scarface, if you’re asking me. He might even compare to the Judge, for those of you with a little Cormac going on. There, I said it. Decide for yourself, then lets talk about that whole vortex thing.

Let’s get back to work. The book is big and takes some time. It will be up for awards next year for sure. The author, Marlon James, has a few other works that I am not familiar with but I can guarantee his name will be heard again and frequently. There’s one character that doesn’t seem to have a solid place other than to jump the story from Jamaica to New York but if that what it takes, so be it.

I can’t be sure how James learned all of things he did that make up the book. Even if he interviewed people who were alive and present at the time or were near the real people or foundations for characters he couldn’t have found everything in straightforward sources. There are no textbooks or liner notes that contain the pieces of this story the way he tells them. The Singer’s lyrics might be a solid link to the events. They stand out on the page, even if you aren’t familiar with them all.

The words to Natural Mystic appear in the book more than once. I hope that doesn’t ruin anything for you. It was the most gratifying part of reading for me so I have to mention it. I can’t explain why the song is such an important piece of my personal mythology, I’ve tried, but I do see it as the only Marley song dark enough to represent this story.

Maybe the darkness of the song is why it matters to me. Seven Killings may have dragged that back from old times. I’ll have to go on figuring the rest out. Though I know its impossible, to go living through the past.

Oh man, swear I didn’t do that on purpose. The headphones were on, I couldn’t help it.

Preparation for the Next Life

There haven’t been any Bro posts in a while. Time has passed. I’ve missed a few lit events and some new books have made debuts. Sorry about that. But I have been reading, count on it. So let’s get back into things.

I’ve never been up on new music. That’s not to say I don’t like bands that just came out and I only sit in my room while dusty vinyl spins, though that is close to true, but I am usually the guy that catches a band about two years after they break. Have you guys heard In Utero? It’s better than I expected.

With literature things are a little different. I haven’t meant for them to be but I do try to keep up on what’s new. When I heard about Preparation for the Next Life by Atticus Lish, and damn it if I remember where or how, I was ready. I knew the November 11 release date about a month out. I worked my library queue to make sure only a few new requests would be coming in at the same time. I rushed through the last book I had in hand the week before. Then, on a Sunday, I checked out the schedule at KGB Bar and found out the author, Atticus Lish, was reading from his book that night. Maybe I could get an advanced copy of the book, I could even meet the guy, damn was I on top of things.

You may be able to pick up on my recent lean toward stories from the War in the Middle East. I don’t see this stopping any time soon, though I probably should lay off the gas a bit. Theme burn out is a real thing that I regularly run straight into. I missed the National Book awards this week because I was out of town for work but Redeployment, a book of short stories based around the War, won for Fiction. So the streak is likely to continue. I don’t know if I think short stories should win for fiction, maybe they should have their own category and frankly I don’t prefer the format but regardless, I’m likely to pick the book up soon.

So, Atticus Lish. I checked my fantasy football scores one last time (sup, BRO) and dimmed my phone as he stepped to the podium. He read a brief scene from his book in which the romantic protagonists meet. Yes, it’s a love story. The male main character is a traumatized Iraq Vet floundering in New York City. The female half is an illegal Chinese immigrant. This idea is as modern as I can imagine. This is even before Siamese Dream. I am the guy who found Gish. I’ve begun to believe my second reason for seeking new fiction is to find works that reflect how things really are today, that are about either what isn’t on the news yet or is behind whatever is condensed as news. The first, well that’s the perfect story, and we will keep on talking about that forever. But, a torn up Veteran and an illegal immigrant girl falling in love is about a dozen years too current for television. I grabbed my just ten dollar copy of the yet to be released book, shook hands with the author, suggested he pick up Billy Lynn’s Long Halftime Walk and left as pumped as when I came in.

You kind of know Preparation for the Next Life isn’t going to end well. No plot reveal there. Romeo and Juliet it is not and I don’t have a ton of experience with romantic plots but everything in the story is set to collide. Skinner, the soldier, is shaken to his core and descending fast, Zou-lei is illegal, barely employed and waiting for Homeland Security to catch her, and a villain steps in about halfway through whose actions are stomach souring. I just hung on and hoped for some great scenes before the inevitable explosion or collapse at the end.

Memorable scenes did arrive. Others dragged on a little. There seemed to be two authors at work on the pages. The New York described in the book is one most transplants, legal, middle and upper class ones anyway, have never seen. Lish paints these with authority but sometimes for too long. In the other direction, some chapters end abruptly. Where other authors may try to pause on a poetic note, which is dangerous and when it fails it crashes hard, Lish does something else. You get the feeling he was on the same streets the characters were, working his own thoughts through, and packaged them in the story of Skinner and Zou-lei. And since he was still working through them, they are left incomplete.

There is enough dread to keep the story moving even when sections end on characters staring at the horizon. The characters push the reader as well. I started out seeing Skinner as a tall, tough as nails crew cut with a monologue but this was wrong. Nor was Zou-lei a petite, innocent fetish. Their physicality was something I had to make myself accept, dropping my own archetypes, and when I did the realness of the story came through.

Once the bad guy showed how wretched he could really be, I didn’t want to go on. I was scared to get to the end of the book. I had to get myself in the right mood each time I started reading. Eventually I made it through. The worst was on the way and it came, and then again it didn’t. The story ended both better and worse than I guessed. There’s your teaser right there.

Now the hard part. How do I criticize a guy I met and shook hands with? Who was extremely gracious and friendly and signed my copy of his own work thanking me for reading? Didn’t I say the Bro was going to be all positive? And how do I stick to my life long motto of never mess with a guy with cauliflower ear? I don’t know. But I have to be fair and write what I think so here it goes. This was Lish’s first novel and you can tell. But that’s not necessarily a bad thing. There are many parts that seem disjointed, there are rough edges, but every piece is written with honesty and emotion. The man means what he writes, even if there is some meandering. He never poses. There are no advertised philosophies. As a kid I read about how the Velvet Underground were imperfect and admired for it and this was how they inspired an endless number of bands in every decade after them. They made you believe you could make music too. I don’t know, they always seemed flawless to me. With Lish, accepting the fractures in his prose could add to his appeal. For me it was a little distracting.

I got to see the author read from his book in a dark attic of an NYC bar. I finally caught something at its early, awkward start. I’m in on the secret. But lets forget my CD collection. The story is what matters. Lish puts the lives of the characters above his words and for that, Preparation is a win. He wrote about terror and love without bullshitting. Maybe truth doesn’t have time to put you in a good mood. He was fair and hopefully I was too.

Gone Girl

All of my GI Joes died. Even supremely bad ass Snake Eyes fell off a cliff or took a fatal bullet after beating the last bad guy. Actually, the bad guys were pretty often the winners. I am not impressed when someone dies in Game of Thrones. George R.R. Martin is copying me and my Cousin Ralph when we were Five.

I needed a break from what I felt like was some pretty heavy reading so I picked up Gone Girl. A trusted friend had read it, the movie was coming out soon and I had seen it in the hands of fellow commuters for a year or so. I am in no way above reading a best seller. As for finding a part of me in the book and sticking to the code I had established for the Bro from the start, well, we already had a problem. I was completely hooked for about half of the story and a little disinterested in the rest. What I was left with in the end was a question and one I have had for a long time. What is the appeal of dark and even sinister stories in our culture and if this is a real thing, and I think it is, does my taste for the grim reflect everyone else’s on the subway?

I love dark things. Always have. Cousin Ralph and I watched the Terminator non-stop when we were likely too young to be doing so. The movie was scary and the good guys only sort of won. Nothing could be better. I try not to give away much of the story in any book I have on here, let alone a thriller that depends on its twists, so I’ll leave Gone Girl alone from a plot perspective as much as possible and instead say that it did its job starting out giving that good old fashioned feeling of doom. For most of my time waiting in the Newark airport, where despair truly lies, I found my old familiar home in the literary shadows.

There is plenty at the onset of Gone that does what I have called, to myself of course, the Stephen King cheap shot. A kid is getting picked on and then a monster shows up? You also have a few bad childhood memories and are therefore knocked around a little emotionally before the really bad stuff happens? Of course, makes sense. I don’t have a problem with an author softening up the reader a little, getting them off balance to begin with. Gone did an especially unique job of this by setting its stage in young, metropolitan romance and the contrast in east coast and Midwest life. The main character Nick is a Missouri boy writing for a living in New York who marries a sophisticated Manhattan girl and after a few tough turns brings her home to live in the Midwest. I should be completely floored by this, right? Of course I’ve thought about bringing home some fancy lady that my Dad could take to the drag races in a sun dress, knocking the socks off his muscle car buddies. Sure Old Man, Natasha loves race cars, just let her pick the right heels for the track. And don’t get me wrong, I did like this part, and some of it was pretty unnerving in its accuracy but this is not what kept me reading. Not through to the end, anyway. I have to ask though, is that why all those girls were reading Gone on the F train? Let’s mark that down as theory A. The Dark side wins in this case because the setting happens to be a familiar one.

The story flips between Nick’s point of view and the diary voice of his missing wife. She disappears and he is left looking more than a little responsible. Nick’s case gets weaker, hers gets stronger. When the story is moving in these two directions it is at its most magnetic. This was when I was hooked. So, this may be the attraction. Point B, the fast moving plot, the essence of a mystery. I love when a story moves fast and pulls me along probably just as much as one that is dense and poetic. Probably more than I admit. Neither stands alone as the perfect story, it’s the combination of the two that I’m searching for, its why I’m here, its what I need, okay, every day I wake up thinking…woah, slow down. Back to the analysis. I still don’t think plot answers my question. If action and twists were all people wanted, and all I was into in this book, then why wouldn’t we read about Pirates and treasure hunts, hidden maps and puzzles? The DaVinci code was big, sure. But why the popularity of the abysmal scenes, the murder and betrayal, the exposure of our worst tendencies?

Things get worse for Nick. They get worse for everyone. Things reach a level of near absurdity, maybe even complete insanity, so that we can’t look away. This is where I dragged myself to the end. I had to know what happened. Maybe this is it, point C, though Im truthfully only throwing in three points to round it off and satisfy some need to write complete papers for English class. We like to watch. We see messed up things happen to other folks and we either enjoy it in some way or we exhale and think, not me. We might consider what we would do if the world fell apart and went insane but in the end we can close the book and go to bed. After I broke down and read the Girl With the Dragon Tattoo and thought, my lord, this is just sex crime, how are people so into this, in public, on the train, I started to think this way. This is a pretty easy answer and kind of safe. No one is guilty of anything too terrible. We are all kind of gross together.

The author Gillian Flynn also wrote the screenplay for the movie which comes out this weekend. David Fincher directed, Trent Reznor and Atticus Ross wrote the score. Everything should be as devoid of sunshine as possible. I guarantee Affleck nails the character of Nick. How could I not be excited? Truth is I only liked about half of the book and my black heart just isn’t that into it.

The second part of my question remains unanswered. I'm not sure what the appeal of these type of stories is for me. There is a point D and I’m having a hard time explaining it. Don’t we all have a suspicion that quite often things are, well, bullshit? The world is not right and most of what we say and do and even read and listen to is a bit of blind acceptance? Does anyone agree? Fifteen year old Me would take off his headphones and raise his hand. Maybe I’m still that kid. In my head the dark things, the unflinching ones, stand in contrast to the light where everything’s safe and accepted and because of this I like them. No, I love them. And I love them because I can trust them. There is no bullshit in the dark. Gone Girl came close to what I enjoy and I’m thankful for that, but I’m going to have to keep looking for the next thing to terrify me.

Wolf in White Van

Reading is by its nature a private event. You get a book when you want, about what you want and think whatever you please as you work through it. This is not what I personally like best about the process but still, it has an appeal. Maybe some of our aversion to assigned reading back in school came as a result of this. Or I am still making excuses for not getting my homework done. My High School librarian once caught me reading books that were not from class and was kind enough, no wise enough, no, Cool enough to take me aside and share with me more works by the same author that were not available on the shelves. They were videos, but still, how great is that? Thanks go out to her. I should have never been quiet in the first place.

Wolf in White Van is going to be a hard book to talk about. I mentioned in my first post that I would discuss works I related to even if this was difficult to admit. Wolf is dark and visceral and saying you can see yourself in it is risky. But, the book hit me pretty hard and now I’ve got to sort it all out.

Sean is a young man who is horribly disfigured by a gun accident. While in the hospital he created a role playing game that he now conducts via mail correspondence with subscribing players. He rarely leaves the house and he interacts with very few people. We see the world through him.

The disfigurement is as present for the reader throughout most of the book as it is for Sean. The descriptions aren’t necessarily graphic but they are constant. Sean’s past surfaces slowly as the book moves from recent events back to more complicated times.

I’ll admit wanting to like this book. The descriptions sounded like something I’d be into. I heard it included critiques on modern culture, violence, all kinds of Natural Born Killers-type stuff I liked as a kid, and still do mostly now. And I did like it from the start but I could not point to a specific reason why. Sean’s life is slow, as you can imagine being primarily a shut in, and his observations are very dry, almost detached. We find him kind of settled in his mind or resigned I should say, though whether this is real or not we can’t judge, since we hear only from him.

This main character is not an anti-hero, or even a complete bad guy disguised as something noble. He is a whole new creature and though this is not what I valued most in the book, I imagine it is what the Author is being lauded for. Sean is complex and frightening, unsettling to say the least, and I never really knew if he was damaged or a psychopath from the start. There was numbness in his voice that I had not encountered before.

I picked up Wolf at the same time that I found the graphic novel Wizzywig, by Ed Piskor and read them fairly close to each other. The protagonist in the comic is similar to Wolf’s in that he suffers a great deal but can’t truly be called a hero or even a decent guy. Check that out too if you really want to take things too far. Come on, you know you do. Also, I believe Piskor is from Pittsburgh so back him up. Go Bucs! I’m digressing…(are ellipses okay? Parentheses? I’ll decide later).

I moved on through the story pretty much hooked but not sure how. I was expecting not so much a big reveal, which the story teases, but some piece I knew would be relevant to me. The narrator takes his time and his shattered pictures eventually start to come together.

Loneliness is hard to admit but isolation is terrifying. Sean is much more a victim of the latter. I would normally be thrilled to see the stay in your room daydreaming, music listening, fantasy character obsessed young person in literature but when his endgame is this guy’s, frankly I was chilled. I remember how serious things seemed back in those days. I love the conversation I had with a friend of mine a few years ago where we saluted the times in our youths spent alone in our rooms cranking tunes and watching movies. I look back on those Friday nights fondly now even though they may have sucked at the time. Those were the days, painful as they seemed, and I still love the same stuff.

Sean’s isolation never ends. The times, and they are few, when it comes anywhere close to ending are the book’s most heartbreaking. I will be going back to read more than a few of those. I also loved the parents, hell, all of the brief side characters. They are shadows for the most part. They exist in the corner of the narrator’s eyes but they still grow and become pin holes in the black sheet of his point of view. In fact there are a lot of narrow spaces to fall through in this book and I hope you find them all. In the end that has been the real hard part of writing about it, the potential expanse of the whole thing despite it's economic length, not the fact that I might have also done my time in the confinements of the archetypal teenage headspace.

John Darnielle is nominated for the National Book Award for Wolf. The awards are coming up soon so keep your eyes and ears open. I’m pulling for him. I’ll also have a lot more about the NBA’s in the future but in what form, I’m not sure yet. The Author was also a member of the band the Mountain Goats who I am not familiar with but I imagine if you are a fan of his music you would be freaking out over his novel. You think I can’t still recite Jim Morrison’s poetry? You know I can. Stop the tape, hit rewind. We got nothing but time sitting here in this room.

Billy Lynn's Long Halftime Walk

I have an idea that the best things in life break your heart the same time they make you smile. I hope you are lucky enough to have some friends you can tell stories like these with. If you talk to me long enough, you’ll know I am. When I find a book that gets this right, man, I can’t stop talking about it.

If you enjoy Billy Lynn’s Long Halftime Walk, it is not an easy book. The level of emotion is high. The most straightforward praise I could give this book when talking about it to a friend is that it seems like no sentence is wasted. Each one has a point and a place in the narrative. A lot of these entries are questions from the mind of the main character, Billy. When I saw questions on the page that I had myself, that most times I couldn’t really put into words, wow, this book really got me.

Billy is an Iraq vet who along with some of his fellow soldiers survived a brutal but ultimately victorious gunfight that was subsequently seen on the internet by most of America. Following the fight Billy and the other troops are sent across the Heartland on a “Victory Tour.” The book takes place on the last day of the trip where the boys are the guests of honor at Dallas Cowboys stadium. The catch is, they are on their way back to Iraq the next day.

The contradictions built by this scenario and the claustrophobic setting of a single day in the stadium are dizzying. I shook my head many times while reading, sometimes because I was impressed, others just to no let the stress of the whole thing get to me. But it’s Billy's thoughts, primarily questions, which act as anchors to the real heart of the book. He wonders openly about not so much the war but our culture and people’s behavior right on up to spirituality and life itself. The story flashes out a few times to his home life and his backstory. I read one of these chapters at a diner early in the morning, already nervous for a job interview, and found myself choking up as I put the book down and walked outside. I’m not kidding, I was stunned that it happened. I was not trying.

Talking honestly to someone who has served their country is hard. They’ve done something you likely have not and probably never will so anything you say falls short. When I’ve tried I’ve felt like a fool. This feeling might have contributed to the weight I felt in this book. Billy’s conversations with civilians are detailed, never sarcastically presented and often humorous. They feel authentic enough that I can’t imagine the author finding sources for them anywhere but in real life.

Parts of the book are hilarious, to me anyway, and some are depressing. Billy’s life exists on the edge of these two forces and he walks through the middle trying to make sense of it all. The pull between the opposites is what really drives the book.

Dallas Cowboy cheerleaders play a role, as do living Pop Culture figures and yes, a Jerry Jones character, too. The timeliness of the story is really amazing. I’m not sure if I would suggest it to people who have served since really, I don’t want to assume anything about their experience. In the end the book is equally about our lives inside American Culture as it is Billy’s in the Army.

This is not to say Billy is sitting on the edge of a mountain in silent contemplation. He and his fellow soldiers are rushed through one strange scene after another and there is plenty of mayhem. I should hold back a bit, but there is even romance. Sort of. And a little bit of Hollywood, too.

Billy Lynn is Author Ben Fountain’s first novel after a collection of short stories. He started writing in his early thirties, quit a successful career in law and counted on the support of a loving wife until his efforts found some level of success. If that’s what it takes to get us to a book like this, thanks to both of them.

I’ve told friends that I am going to read this book again immediately. That is definitely not something I have done in the past. I feel like I need to in order to really get how I feel about it in line. If you the book is on your list then I’ll just slap you on the back, wish you luck and hope that’s enough.

How To Find Books

There’s a guy I’ve known for most of my life I refer to as my Music Guy. No matter how bored I am with the tunes in my head I can ask him what to listen to next and he’s got something for me. His favorite advice is, “If you can’t go new, go old.” I love that.

The best books find you at the right time. I believe this and I’m definitely not the first guy to say it. The process is, let’s not say magical because that’s weak, how about psychedelic? Yes, that’s better. But sometimes you get in a rut and the next step isn’t clear. So here are some techniques that have worked for me. Maybe this list can be your Music Guy.

Your Writer’s Writers.
Everyone has influences. Most modern, I mean living authors, get interviewed pretty regularly and they are always asked who they read on their way. This is the standard interview question. When you check up on some of the names they mention and find your next great book then wow, you’ve really got something. Don’t stick to the current guys either. I’ve found that no matter how far back in the day a writer was alive, someone came before him. Keep digging. Charles Bukowski was obsessed with a guy named John Fante. He visited him on his deathbed. I would not have found Fante without Hank. Pay homage, find something great.

Stop Watching Porn.
Gotcha. I mean use the internet. I’m sure there are endless resources here so I’ll just name the ones that have given me solid finds.

For modern, brand new fiction our culture’s obsession with listing isn’t such a bad thing. Plenty of online resources will tweet the current month’s top reads or next season’s big releases. I really like Flavorwire’s twitter feed for this. They have some old school lists on there, too.

I love most things about New York magazine and they do have a Book page but the trusty “Approval Matrix” feature regularly has some good literary items in the top right corner. And it helps when you are studying up to be a better New York Dick.

The idea might overlap with the suggestion up top but some writers Tweet a lot and talk about or with other authors they like. Actually, following your favorite writers this way unconditionally can break your heart as well so be careful. But trust me on Bret Easton Ellis. What could be more Bro? His works are polarizing sometimes but his book suggestions are anything but. I’m serious, it’s uncanny, everything this guy suggests has been solid. And it’s not just new stuff, there are classics in there too.

Get Your Lighters Up
A writer I had not heard of sort of “opened” for one I had at a reading in Central Park once. He really was into the rock thing and asked the crowd to hold their phones up to seem like we were at a concert back in his day, and mine, when the lighter salute was standard. I liked the move. Plus I had never heard of him before. I know it’s not easy to go see readings all the time but if you are unfamiliar with someone or if there are a few folks on the bill, check it out with an open mind. I’ve gone to KGB bar in the East Village for their writer features but I am sure there are tons more.

Walk the Stacks
The best way. I love the library. There is no better place in the world where my Dad isn’t screaming at the television. The public library can reserve books for you and it’s rare when they don’t have or can’t find something you want if you are willing to be patient. But going in cold and blank is okay too. Walking along the rows of books can really tell you what your true tastes are. Judge a book by its cover, go for it, that’s why it’s there. The sort of zen state I hope you fall into while passing all those books can help dig up some name or title you have in your head but may have forgotten. I think this is what happened to me when I found my favorite author of all time. Or maybe it wasn’t the case, and I had never heard of him before and the title was purely delivered to my brain by voices from beyond. What could be better than that?

So what works for you? In New York we can leave our books out near the garbage when they are too heavy to move and let them pass on to their next deserving owner. Half Price Books in Pittsburgh rocks. Let me know what you’ve got.

A Naked Singularity

As a reader you probably find yourself telling a close friend you definitely have the next book for them. I’ve found that the best friends in times like these are the folks that love half of what you do and question the rest. Conflict, right? At least this way you get outside of your habits. My longest standing “book friend,” and lucky for me real life friend, and I share this dynamic.

“A Naked Singularity” by Sergio De La Pava is the title I’ve been telling everyone about for a couple of years now. I found this book on the Employee Suggestion rack at my somewhat local Barnes and Noble. I picked it up, put it down, walked around and came back. I’m not sure how many times I did this, it was a few, but the insane looking cover and the comments on the back drew me in. There were suggestions that this was a mix of the Wire and works by Thomas Pynchon. I was looking for something heavy and admittedly high-brow and so they had me.

This was a great and rare situation where I truly did not know what to expect. I did a quick page count which I think a lot of us may do and found the total well over the average. I waited a couple of weeks to start and finally found myself in a Texas airport digging in.

The first almost hundred pages were tough. I will not say they will be tough for you, this is just me. I actually sent a text to a friend that said something like uh oh stuck in some hipster nonsense. I am thrilled now to be so wrong. I’m just saying it’s a big book, give it some time in case you are weary right away.

By the time the book was moving along I saw the protagonist Casi in some kind of broken but familiar light. He’s a young guy and he’s gifted with a lot, a career and family, but he’s frustrated. Frankly, he’s going a little nuts. I was in.

Once I found Casi the shifts the book makes and its serious density could settle. There are literally pages of non stop dialogue that I’ve described to friends as similar to Aaron Sorkin written shows, though I wish I had a better comparison. The descriptions of courtroom activity are also thorough and lengthy. Casi is a guy who thinks a lot and each of the many different approaches of the story reflect this. Well that’s fine. I like thinking. I love to think. I think about thinking. I could get lost in all of this wonderful detail.

Then, as I was hoping and was promised by the book jacket, the story came along as well. I can’t and will never be able to say enough about how I believe the best works, and there are so few they are really treasures, walk the line between philosophy and flat out action. I’m not saying Singularity nailed it, but it is definitely the most modern example at an attempt to do so. I’d be happy to say this is a novel of at least the times, if not a generation.

Oh, so what happens? Right. Well Casi is a lawyer and he’s struggling and questioning most of what he sees. Crime circles both his personal and work life more rapidly until well, they can’t get any closer. I’m not telling any more. There are New York centered pieces of the book that I feel are accurate and underrepresented in popular culture. Casi’s interactions with people are transparent to real life. There are serious pages given to a side history of boxing that I absolutely loved. Thinking, thinking, oh to analyze. This was divine indulgence for any restless brain.

My friend who relented and finally took my suggestion thought the book was hilarious. He loved it. I liked the serious parts, he repeated the funny ones. We discussed interviews with the author. I found De La Pava’s story and his opinions on par with his work and almost equally fascinating. He’s won some awards and I was definitely rooting for him.

Most of the time suggestions from our friends just get added to the book list. If A Naked Singularity is on yours, I say go for it. If you are lucky enough to have someone to talk about it with, even better. But it is a massive and potentially introspective book so don’t be too worried if your friends take some coaxing to get on board. If you decide to take it on yourself, just like Casi, you can’t lose.

And Here...We...Go

Welcome to the Renaissance Bro. Thanks for stopping by. I hope you stick around for a while and find some great things to read that you might have otherwise not heard of.

I started this blog because I believe, just like friends and family, characters and stories you relate to are the things that make life exciting and worthwhile. For me, there is always a place for stories of conflict, introspection and the passages our lives go through. I love to read like I’m sure you do and this means all kinds of things from new fiction to classics, comedies to drama and everything else. But this site will be reserved for the kind of works I see a bit of myself or my life in, even if this is scary or hard to admit sometimes.

So yes, there will be “Bro” stuff in here. But like the title that I stole from my Cousin suggests, these choices will have heart, breadth and depth and hopefully something for everyone. Each of them has given that amazing sense that the author was speaking straight to me. You know that feeling, right? Well that’s what we are going for here. I’m sure no matter what your tastes are there is at least one surprise inside for you. Please explore and enjoy.