Wittgenstein’s Lolita and The Iceman by William Gay
My rating: 4/5 cats
so people have been telling me and telling me to read WILLIAM* gay, and until now, i just haven’t. what is wrong with me, i wonder?? because he is everything i love, if this one short story is any indication of his themes and style. he does what i like, and he does it very well.
yeah, i’m reviewing another short story, what of it?? this seems to be the week for that sort of behavior. and this is the last one from me, i promise. no more cheapening of goodreads.com. this book also contains a portion of a forthcoming novel by gay, which i did not read, but which i will when it is published in its entirety, and a brief biographical bit that i did read. so there.
the story itself is so emotionally cauterizing. it involves two damaged individuals; neighbors who come together for comfort from their sorrowful lives. each scene is a gem of careful prose, without any of those pesky transitional elements, so occasionally the reader has to stop and say “wait- where are we now??” time passes, but it passes offtext, and we only get the moments when the characters are together, or in rideout’s solitary, reflective moments.
obviously, there is a jarring incident at the end, which redefines the characters’ relationship to each other, and after which a decision of some sort will have to be made. like any good short story, there is a unresolved ending, and since i’m not the kinda asshole that tells the whole plot of things, this is all i’m gonna say about that.
but william gay—yeah, man! i am going to go out and get all his books asap. the biographical bit was great—local boy makes good and returns to smalltown lifestyle afterward. it is perfect, and i think it makes his dialogue more authentic. i am loving all over him right now.
incidentally, he is also a painter, and painted this cover. that part i love less. stop painting, gay, and write me some more dark southern prose!
(you drunkos, you…)
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