7 Books Like Flesh

The bleak opening chapters of police brutality will make anyone uncomfortable, especially those of us who have been unfairly accused or treated at one time or another. In this case, the illustration is extreme, so one feels it as if it is an alien planet where the novel takes place and not merely an alternative reality where it takes place.

Even so, there is no question Wright borrows from his own experiences of being falsely accused in painting a vivid portrait of race and injustice as well as his grandmother's world view as a Seventh-day Adventist. In Wright's reflective essay about his grandmother (which was included in the version of the book I read), Wright describes her as a woman “in this world but not of it." It was her religious fervor creating a psychological withdrawal from reality that fascinated and repelled him.

This novel is a masterclass in concise… show more.

This collection of threes shorts is a work of emotional and intellectual heft, solidifying Banks as one of my favorite authors. He has a profound influence on my own journey as an author despite discovering him late.

What makes “American Spirits” exceptional is Banks’ refusal to lean on stereotypes or easy characterizations. His characters are not caricatures of rural America, nor are they reduced to simplistic archetypes of struggle or redemption. Instead, Banks dismantles preconceived notions, presenting individuals who are complex, flawed, and achingly human. In the three stories discussed here, Banks explores themes of loss, identity, and the collision of personal and societal forces, all while peeling back the layers of American mythology to reveal the messy truths beneath. There are no heroes.

At the same time, Banks’ ability to capture the human condition with honesty and compassion is unmatched, and his commitment to dismantling stereotypes ensures that his… show more.

I like to recommend difficult books—everyone needs a challenge once in a while and the nihilist Huysmans kind of throws down a literary gauntlet here in that he’s sort of daring you to go with him to the abysses of the modern soul. 

This book is indeed way more psychedelic than any 60’s Beat guy or girl ever penned or dreamed.

His prose is second to none. I’ve read several of his works, but for some reason I never read this classic.

When I was a teenager, I would have felt very much at home at the vintage record store in London where this story is set. (In fact, my hometown is named London, except my London is in Canada.) The quirky clerks who work there adore their boss, Rob Fleming, and spend their days attempting to outwit one another with music trivia and compiling funny and far-reaching Top Five lists.

As Rob negotiates a recent breakup, he must sort through his ex-girlfriend’s belongings and the emotional baggage he’s collected over the years. Though Rob is an adult, this still feels like a coming-of-age tale. I came away from the book resonating with the bittersweet awareness of what it means to become an adult with a list of careers if time and money were no object.

Lowry is the best stylist in the history of the English Language bar two other classic writers—Jonathan Swift and Samuel Johnson. 

The amount of alcohol consumed in this brutally beautiful novel is staggering to say the least. Its zesty darkness and, er, volcanic poetry is a stone-cold trip. If you don’t remember (or never tasted) mescal or that time you had too many margaritas, Lowry’s masterpiece will do you well. 

Szalay sort of exposes—in the most subtle of ironic ways—how men delude themselves with respect to their intentions, their character, their attitudes towards work and women, and all the concomitant notions of competition contained therein.

He's got, it seems to me, a quite Hobbesian worldview going—and that, to me, is refreshing! Of course the writing is for the most part beautiful; but not too beautiful, not too embellished. A bit plangent. A bit lapidary.

One thing I would say is, reading him, I am sometimes tempted to cut the last sentence of his chapters. He often ends with a note, as it were, that strikes me as bathetic. I wonder if in some way he doesn't trust the reader. 

Cutting the last sentence:  that's an old New Yorker magazine trick and I think—even though this may sound presumptuous—his prose'd benefit… show more.