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A Book of Blues
by Courttia Newland
Flambard Press
2011
Second Collection
Awards: Longlisted 2011 Frank O'Connor International Short story Award
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"I
feel stars crackle and spit like eggs frying in the darkness, squint
them into focus until they become scattered dust motes. The music is
distant, lost below the resigned sigh of the wind; every now and then
a faint song emerges."
Reviewed by Arja Salafranca
This
eclectic, diverse, and interesting collection ranges across countries
– from the exotic African island of Lamu, off the coast of Kenya,
to the heat of Miami, to the coldness of the underground to the
gritty, roughly-hewn streets of London. In tone and style too, this
collection offers a range: Beach Boy, which opens the
book is an intensely lyrical piece; while in All Woman the narrator
talks in a Caribbean patois-accent, and other stories zing with
humour and sassiness.
I
have to start with the achingly beautiful and memorable Beach
Boy, a story of such
poetry, it lingers on long after the first reading, and a story I
wished would carry on.
Palermo,
a poet from London, is travelling on a grant from the Arts Council,
spending time on Lamu, when he meets the beautifully-named Shalini, a
PhD student from Vancouver. What follows is a tender, albeit brief
encounter, it must be described as a love affair, such is the depth
of the encounter. And yet this layered story moves from beyond the
encounter to explore Palermo's uneasy relationship to the boys of
the island, who consider this place their turf, and Palermo an
outsider. A sense of menace prevails and cuts through the story. We
return to the character of Shalini in the final collection in this
book, The Bright Side
of the Moon, which
focuses a spotlight on a period of Shalini's life, and it feels
like returning eagerly to an old friend. These two lovers remain
startlingly vivid in my mind, taking hold in way that isn't always
common in a short story.
Miami
Heat is another story
that grips the imagination and refuses to let go. Freelance music
journo, the zanily-named Serendipity Henry, is assigned to interview
the band The Cheeba Monks, "hip-hop hippies". The story begins
with the lines: "Anyone could tell that life had been cruel
before I got to the airport, and it didn't change once I got
there." Words that set the tone of this story.
She's
flown from Gatwick, which reminds her of a budget Heathrow, on a press
junket to stay at a swish hotel, interview the band and party on.
What follows is a rip-roaring, almost breathless story about what's
it's like to attend a press junket, travel with people you barely
know, get hit on, and generally lurch from disaster to disaster. This
long story never lags, and is shot through and carried by Serendipity
Henry's droll, amusing voice. And yet there's pathos beneath the
humour, a pathos that lifts Miami
Heat above the mere
telling of a music
jouno's ungainly journey.
Underground
is a startlingly simple tale – yet quietly powerful story that
reaches into the supernatural for inspiration. Joshua is visiting a
cemetery, reading the words on a gravestone when a woman appears
before him: "Her face thin and pale with cold, her eyes wide and
circular." She wears the dress of another century and speaks
English in an old-fashioned way, addressing Joshua by another name. A
coming together of man and woman across centuries unfolds – a
highly believable, and beautiful story of love. You suspend belief,
and aren't even aware that you're doing so. Love has seldom been
so finely described and conjured up, a definite highlight of this
collection.
A
clever and amusing story is Passive Smoke, which also
leaves a series of chills in its wake. It all begins ordinarily
enough: Evie and Max live together in cosy domesticity, except for
the fact that Max smokes, and Evie's attempts to get him to quit
result in frustration and a strange quirk of togetherness that I
won't reveal because the thrust of this story turns on Evie's
discovery. It's a story of revenge, but a revenge so sweet and
unusual it takes a master of the craft to fashion a story that keeps
you hooked, smiling with a simple delight and gleefully reading to
the end. And yet, it's also subtly chilling to read of the malice
that can fester within a relationship and the hurt that results.
Other
stories in the collection look at old friendships and how impossible
it is to return to the closeness that has been, and the distance that
years bring in Re-Entry;
Fresh for '88
brings back the past for a teenager living in a council house, trying
to survive childhood and its mean streets; White
Goods follows a two
friends who
have been selling
antique goods at Portobello Market for 15 years, rummaging in a
household and industrial tip, an experience that leaves the one with
a new appreciation for the sweetness of air. Meanwhile, Spider
Man, another excellent
and quietly powerful story, uses the metaphor of a spider moving
across a man's ceiling to explore the trajectory of a relationship
and the insidious role of violence.
Newland's
stories are memorable, eclectic, pleasingly, unusual and his
distinctive voice runs through each well-told tale.
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Arja Salafranca
is a short
story writer, poet, travel writer and essayist. Author of The
Thin Line (Modjaji
Books 2010), a debut collection of fiction, as well as two poetry
collections, edited two anthologies, winner of the Sanlam award for
fiction and poetry, and the Dalro award for poetry. Edits the Life
section of The Sunday
Independent (Johannesburg).
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