Just over three hundred pages of a novelist realizing his story contained several stories, or that his several stories were all the same. Written as though "fragmented" and "kaleidoscopic" are the same thing, with characters who are all dragged through the events of their stories by the actions of others, with no climax and bloody little resolution. Shocking how the "brilliant" literary fiction of fifteen years ago completely fails to hold up--almost as though "literary" were just a lie, not even a genre like all the others.
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Black-Eyed Susans by Julia Heaberlin
So I read another novel by Ms. Heaberlin and it was pretty good, so I grabbed this one while I was at the library, and it's also prett...
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A beautiful novel about life as a mobster (in 1940s Tampa) and all the contradictions and complications of it. Lehane clearly has an ear f...
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A beautiful novel of violence, vengeance and pain, set against a backdrop of small-town bigotry. If you see this, or *Razorblade Tears*, t...
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This is early Vachss, all taut and violent, more than a little murky to my mind. It is not good to be a sexual offender in a Vachss novel....

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