"You want me to tell you what sets Maliszewski apart? The answer is probity. The answer also is decency. Here's another answer: modesty, tact, exactitude, pertinence, reverence, wit. All told, Maliszewski has all the graces, which is why I, in my old age, am renewed and schooled by him. Oh, and another thing: Paul Maliszewski takes no crap."—Gordon Lish
At a campground, a divorced father confronts a man he believes hurt his daughter. A devoted student traces a winding path through the snow, searching for the next most beautiful thing. Two brothers watch their father tinker lovingly with his homemade robots. In Paul Maliszewski’s debut story collection, men and women struggle to do right. They argue. They think. They think again. They have odd dreams. Often they fail at being good, and yet, on occasion, they realize moments of true kindness. In language that is at once simple and supple, plain-spoken and arresting, these twenty-eight stories describe complete lives in sharp detail, lives we may recognize as not unlike our own.
Paul Maliszewski has published essays in Harper's, Granta, and Bookforum, among other magazines. His stories have appeared in The Paris Review, One Story, and BOMB and have been awarded two Pushcart Prizes. Fakers, a collection of essays, was published by The New Press in 2009. He lives in Washington, DC, with his wife and son.
Having followed Paul Maliszewski’s estimable forays as a critic and journalist-essayist, I was excited to explore his just-published collection of short fiction, Prayer and Parable. Readers already know Paul as hip and super-smart, a keen observer and a rigorous writer who resists the lure of pat summary and probes instead for the pertinent detail that brings a singular light to his chosen subject matter.
No surprise, then, that his fiction exhibits the same precision of attention. Paul’s style is lean and self-aware, without being show-offy and distancing. The settings of his “prayers and parables” range from the concrete “real” to the genuinely surreal, yet I found that every story conjured an almost dreamlike state for me, a place of quiet unease. Whether he’s exploring the jutting facets of social awkwardness in a seemingly civil setting, or the emotional confusion that comes with recognizing the fragility of life, Paul’s stories do indeed have an invocational quality to them that left me with the same sense of the sacred on display that I get at the better art galleries. While the panicking publishing industry generates ever-larger catalogues of lurid hyperbole, this book quietly slips in as a welcome gift of sane, devotional focus.
Every story here demands you read between the lines. Maliszewski's sentences are immaculate and engaging and unnerving. A glimpse into the modern concept of relationships between human beings. I loved this book, and I'll be coming back to it for years to come.