I was supposed to be Christmas shopping yesterday evening when I strolled into my local bookstore. I thought I might check out Amy Sedaris' new book on entertaining guests. But it was apparently nowhere to be found. Instead of pursuing the book into the hidden areas of the bookstore, I perused the new hardbound fiction. Then I moved on to the general fiction shelf where I was promptly drawn to look for one of the elusive books by Christine Schutt, my current author-obsession. Since discovering her book A Day, A Night, Another Day, Summer last Summer, I have asked every literary-minded friend and acquaintance if they have heard of her work, and as of yet, no one has. I like that she remains my literary secret, though a secret she is not considering that her book Florida was nominated for a National Book Award. It was this book that I came across yesterday. And I couldn't resist the temptation to buy it for myself, though I really did have intentions of buying things for others. But really, I want to share Schutt's work with everyone and no one. I want to share it with everyone because I want them all to experience her work like I have. But I am hesitant to share my knowledge of this author's magnificent prose because I know that most people will not have the same riveting experience that I did upon first discovering her work.
2 comments:
You've summed up my feelings exactly. I read three (all three?) of Schutt's books in the last year, and I've tried sharing her with others, to little avail. I guess most people just aren't ready for story after story of parent-sibling sexual tension, mental disillusionment, or other fuckeduppedness.
Have you read Nightwork? It's a collection of her stories, and there's this amazing and stressful one about a mother teaching her son how to kiss. My second favorite, behind "The Blood Jet" from her last collection.
Cheers!
I have read Nightwork but found it to be slightly disappointing after A Day, A Night.... I thought it was filled with too much of the "fuckeduppedness" you speak of. But A Day was far much more subtle, and by extension, far more beautiful. I mean, who can't love a story entitled Weather is Here, Wish You Were Beautiful.
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