When I finished my reading of Self Storage by Gayle Brandeis, it was with an exhaled “ah,” a quickened pulse, and the word, Yes, whispering in my mind. The story poses the question to its protagonist, Flan Parker, as well as to its reader, “what makes you say ‘Yes’ inside?” Answers seep through odd, bright paintings, intimate haircuts, and the words of Walt Whitman. The adventure of finding what makes you say ‘Yes’ to your life is the theme which threads together many different simultaneous and interwoven stories: the mysterious Afghani couple draped in black, the threatening anti-terrorist protestors armed with eggs to throw and signs to wave in a frightening, post 9/11 political climate, the supportive and co-conspiratorial best friend’s dying mother saga, the husband’s stack of televisions perpetually displaying a pyramid of soap operas, the eccentric, blue-haired artist contemplating a life of meditation, an unexpected tragedy involving the children, and the surprising ways in which all of these characters and events pose the question to the reader and to Flan Parker. The story is told in a captivating first person narrative voice, that of Flan, who is an engaging, entrepreneurial mother and wife trying to find her place in the world. With a mother who died of cancer when Flan was young and an ostracized father, she floats around to Self Storage auctions to purchase odds and ends for her yard sales and consults her well-read, heavily underlined, greatly memorized copy of Whitman’s Leaves of Grass, both an heirloom and a talisman, for guidance in every situation.
In the book’s 50-page introduction, Brandeis teases us with a short paragraph describing the haunting image of an Afghani woman in a burqa hunched in a dark storage locker with hair plastered to her cheeks and presents a place and a mix of characters so intriguing and unusual that you have to read on to find out what happens among them. In the second part, when a strange note bearing the single word: “Yes,” turns up in one of her auction finds, Flan follows the return instructions on the strip of paper to the “blue house on the hill,” her kids in tow, and ends up shaving the head of the dynamic stranger, an act that results in a powerful, intimate moment that lingers in the mind of the reader long after the scene ends. In the subsequent three sections, the pace picks up until one thing after another slams into our beloved Flan mercilessly, each forcing her to make an even more difficult decision than the last, each threatening her very safety if not her life.
It is a difficult task to write about saying yes to life; one risks being viewed as naïve, sentimental, overly optimistic. Brandeis has overcome this risk, however, with clear, vivid writing, serious political tensions, tragic events, and weighty consequences that escalate, pile up, and blend with the positive undercurrents to reveal disturbing truths that are anything but sentimental. The final result, simultaneously fantastical and believable, leaves you with a smile, an excitement, and a longing for more.