literary

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Big Bad Love by Larry Brown

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Grade: A

It’s not my intention to pigeonhole anything here, but when I think of the American Short Story my mind goes straight to Hemingway and his spawn. Writers of a dark masculinity that create poorly concealed autobiographical fiction where the men desperately search for their place in the world while acting terribly. They are womanizers and boozers, some are violent and most are emotionally unstable, but the catch is that they’re smart enough to understand the damage of their actions. The writing is unrefined and coarse, reflecting their working class characters. These are the Bukowski’s and the Carver’s of the world and Larry Brown deserves his place among them, both in style and skill. His collection Big Bad Love contains stories of men who are desperate for love and a human connection but will never get it because their understanding of it is so flawed and their choices so awful.

The stories themselves are all set in the south and all are written in first person. They have ever-present themes like poverty and violence and desperation. Most of the men in the stories are married, though some are divorced, and most of them too are either looking to cheat or are cheating, though some just live in agony as they try to figure out how to make their women happy. In “The Apprentice” the man’s wife is a struggling writer who he supports financially but secretly thinks she’s terrible at it and should give up, but he continues to support her through some obligation or maybe love. In the title story “Big Bad Love,” it’s less subtle. The protagonist can’t please with wife for physical reasons. The man spends time in the bar alone and laments “I just couldn’t do anything with her big Tunnel of Love. I could hit one side at a time, but not both sides.” If man’s inadequacy and inability to conquer the new world is your central theme than what better metaphor exists than a cavernous vagina? Sure, some could argue this collection is a bit on the sexist side, and they wouldn’t be wrong, but it’s honest in the portrayal of the existential crisis of these men.

The last half of the book is sort of a novella titled “92 Days” that is about a divorced man who dreams of being a writer. He sits at home alone and writes and writes and sends manuscripts out and awaits the rejections slips. If this sounds like Bukowski to anybody, it did to me too, but there’s one key difference. Bukowski never doubts his writing or his genius. Rejection slips mean nothing to him because being misunderstood is actually a good thing to him. Brown feels the horrible pain of every rejection, he’s honest that some of the things he writes are terrible. This is not a story about sticking with your dream and everything will work out fine (I’m not trying to say that’s what Bukowski was trying to do, for the record, but there’s a sort of inevitability to his writing that suggests eventually he will be recognized as great), but instead reads as a treatise on writing. About how it’s a passion that doesn’t go away simply because you’re not successful or it’s not really the smart way to live your life. Rejection slips pile up and the only solace is in the nicely written denial letters.

Larry Brown was one of our great writers. His stories, and novels, are dark and gritty and dangerous and punch you right in the gut. But there is also a humor in his writing that really makes it jump off the page. It’s as if he knows just how ridiculous the people in his world are but can’t help the fact that he loves them anyway. Nobody is all good, okay nobody is really very good at all, but nobody is all bad either. People are complicated and so are Brown’s characters, and all just desperately want to connect to another human being. If you haven’t read any Larry Brown, do yourself a favor and get on that. This collection and his debut novel Dirty Work are literary masterpieces that show both the ugliness and beauty of people.

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Grow Up by Ben Brooks

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Grade: B

Jasper J Wolf is detached, horny, disenchanted and distrustful of authority figures. He also does a lot of drugs, drinks and smokes. In short, he’s an updated, shallow, British Holden Caulfield. Don’t worry, author Ben Brooks saves us from having to figure that out on our own. In the second to last chapter of the book, just in case we’re incredibly dense, Jasper says “I am Holden Caulfield, only less reckless, and more attractive. “ As Jasper’s gearing up for his end of the year exams, he’s trying to prove his stepfather is a murderer, avoid any responsibility in regards to having possibly impregnated a chubby girl, have sex with his dream girl, and maybe even pass those tests. Other stuff is going on too, namely a possibly suicidal friend that he attempts to console.

The problem here is that this book never feels like a story. It just feels like a group of semi-likeable, at best, people are meandering from one place to another, getting high, drunk, laid, etc. That’s not always a bad thing, hell Bukowski made a pretty good career out of the same thing, but there just didn’t ever seem like much of a point. Jasper’s detached voice, the book is in first person, works sometimes, but most of the time it’s just too mechanical. It’s hard to believe that this kid could be the way it is and still be highly functional, especially to the point of pretty regularly having sex. Though to be fair, the sex he does have is either while incredibly inebriated and once he borderline rapes a girl. To be honest, as I was reading it I figured Jasper was autistic, or had aspergers. The bottom line is that this kid is way too socially awkward for the action of this book to be believable. I was that fucking kid for Christ’s sake. Trust me, kids like Jasper don’t just walk into sex in high school. We fight tooth and nail for every nipple and handjob we get until college. The old high school loser in me gets a little offended at these kind of stories.

One other minor thing I had a problem with is the fact that Jasper seems infinitely smarter than every adult in this novel. I hate that. Teenagers are dumb, all of them. Adults are always smarter than them. Always. Teenagers always think they’re smarter and that can work well in fiction, as long as it’s clear that it’s only in the kid’s mind that he’s smarter when in fact we, the reader, know that he’s full of shit. Ben Brooks seems to want us to think that Jasper is actually smarter than all the adults around him. This isn’t a deal breaker, but it does annoy me.
I’ve said an awful lot of negative things about this book, I realize that. Some might be wondering why then would I give it a B? Mostly because it’s funny. This book had me laughing through most of it. You can open randomly to almost any page and find something pretty hilarious. Watch, I’ll do it now (you’ll just have to believe I’m actually opening the book randomly right now). Page 41: “I stand up. There is blood on and in the immediate vicinity of my penis. This is the most disgusting I have felt ever in my life. Ever. The immediate future will only prove at all bearable, provided Abby Hall remains sleeping. Plump Abby Hall with her obnoxious breasts and acne.” I don’t know if everyone will necessarily find that funny, but I do. And it pretty much perfectly sums up the character of Jasper. He’s crude and selfish, but he’s pretty articulate about it, which I guess works as enough of a redeemable trait to make him enjoyable enough to hang out with for a few hundred pages.

Final thoughts: This is a quick read, so I would definitely recommend it for that reason. It aims to be something profound and I feel it fails, but it’s entertaining and you’ll get a couple good laughs and a couple good cringes out of it. If you like crass humor, designer drugs and teenage sex (come on, who doesn’t?) then you should have a good time with this.


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