It’s 1990, and New York City is in unemployment reigns, crack wars rage, and whole neighborhoods burn as delinquent landlords cash in. Struggling to come to terms with his father’s death, paramedic and photographer Frank Verbeckas descends into the chaos and misery of upper Manhattan, taking photographs of the ill, the wounded, the dying, and the down-and-out. Accompanying him on his wanderings are his loudmouthed partner, Burnett; his best friend, Hock, who boosts drugs from the hospital; and his brother, Norman, a surgeon who can’t understand why Frank is in such pain. Frank’s ruin seems inevitable, but when he meets Emily, a professional fencer whose days are numbered by a fatal illness, his world changes. Against everyone’s advice, Frank and Emily fall in love. Together, they try to find a way out of the murk of guilt and sadness and learn to draw meaning and beauty from despair.
In short, cinematic scenes, with not a word wasted and nothing told that can be shown, Shannon Burke leads us on a powerful journey through the darkest precincts of the street and of the soul. Honest, terse, and enormously moving, Safelight is a debut of remarkable depth, a stunning, clear-eyed, and sympathetic portrait of American life and death–a love story not for the faint of heart.
Shannon went to college at the University of North Carolina-Chapel Hill. He has published four novels: Safelight, Black Flies, Into the Savage Country, and The Brother Years. He has been involved in various film and TV projects, including work on the screenplay for the film Syriana, and he is the co-creator of the Netflix series Outer Banks. From the mid to late nineties he worked as a paramedic in Harlem for the New York City Fire Department. He now lives in Knoxville, Tennessee with his two sons.
I have a Goodreads friend that raves about Shannon Burke’s writing. I hadn’t heard of Shannon Burke before, and I honestly haven’t recalled coming across any reviews of his books since this trusted friend put him on my radar. (Thank you, Justin! Check out his review Here.) Now that I’ve taken the plunge, I’m asking myself why the hell hasn’t everyone been reading this guy’s work?!! This story snuck up on me and completely shattered me!
“The city was falling apart. We were at ground zero in the worst wave of violence of the century. As long as we didn’t fuck up completely we were pretty much left alone.”
The setting is early 1990s New York City – I was sold on that account. It’s about a paramedic named Frank. Well, to be honest, that’s the part that threw me at first and kept me from snatching this one up right away. You see, I’ve never been into those television series featuring hospitals, doctors, nurses, paramedics, firemen, and all those life-saving heroes that I wholeheartedly respect and admire. There’s an element to those shows that makes me very uneasy – it’s not necessarily the gruesome scenes I shy away from (though they can be a bit stomach-turning), but it has more to do with my fear that someday I’m going to be a witness to or a part of something so dreadful myself. So I had to suck it up a bit before committing to this – and I’m so glad I did!
“You oughtta take pictures of healthy people.” “I don’t like healthy people.”
Frank is a twenty-something that has lived through a traumatic event. After a debilitating period this event inspired him to become a paramedic. Perhaps inspiration isn’t really the right word though. Frank is still in a dark place. He doesn’t seem to care too much about himself. He’s also a photographer and shoots some rather unconventional images. Images of illness, death and destruction. A perverse pleasure, perhaps? No. I don’t think so. There’s a lot more to Frank than that. He just happens to be a broken guy. He and his cronies get involved in some shady, risky business as well. And then Emily comes along.
“Emily dropped her mask to hug me with two arms and some brightness spread through me, through both of us, and was held there for a moment, like ringing is held in a bell.”
Shannon Burke sure does have a way with words; he writes beautifully but sparingly. Don’t be fooled though, because this is not some sappy love story. What is it then? It’s a realistic portrait of human beings living during this time and in this place. It’s written by a man who personally worked as a paramedic in Harlem during the 1990s. These had to have been his people. He knew what he was writing about. Most importantly, he illuminates life through death and finds beauty in the bleak and the ugly. I’ll not hesitate to read his work again!
“I knew even as I took it that it was a good photograph. Despite everything, she had a really nice smile. Something gentle and almost innocent about it. Against that brick wall, dressed up like she was, with that gaunt, scarred face, some really nice, genuine smile. I was smiling, too.”
Back in January, I predicted that Black Flies, by Shannon Burke, would be the best book I would read in 2021. I just finished Safelight by the same author. By God this man can write.
I felt a lot of things at the end of Black Flies, but at the conclusion of this book I only feel sad, and mortal, and sorry for people who end up in bad situations. This book has more heart, in the traditional sense, and didn't leave the hollowed-out ravished feeling that the other book did.
Burke's primary strength is the near-poetic muscularity of his writing -- poetic in the sense that every word is chosen for maximum impact and so the book is not one word longer than it needs to be. In this book, like his previous one, there was an almost electric thrill running through the base of my skull during the first few chapters, like listening to a virtuoso performing music. None of this would matter if he didn't have anything to say, but he has plenty. He does not waste his time on inconsequential themes.
We meet Frank Verbeckis, a pretty profoundly fucked-up twenty-three year old, and follow him for three years. During this time he suffers, he changes, he learns, he perseveres and grows. Another character is not so lucky. That's the gist of it. I don't want to give away one single plot point in this book because half the pleasure is learning to come to terms with the plot according to Frank's worldview rather than your own.
That said, I felt at times that Burke was straining to reign himself in and write a conventional story. This impulse was abandoned completely in Black Flies, which I felt was the stronger book as a result. This one took a little longer than necessary to get to the end -- or, more accurately, to get to the beginning of the real story. But he is competing only with himself here -- both books are strong, brilliant and will haunt me for a long, long time.
While thematically and even tonally similar to Burke's excellent Black Flies, Safelight struck me as both sadder and tougher, with the level of compulsion and paranoia ratcheted way up, hence totally absorbing.
I found this book at my library while searching for books about New York City. It's about a young paramedic in NYC who is a photographer. He takes pictures of people who are hurt, who have diseases - "the ill, the wounded, the dying, and the down-and-out." Usually, when the EMTs are called onto the scene is when he gets his best shots.
The book is written in bursts - short, choppy scenes that are thrown in your face and just as quickly taken away. It was a little hard to get used to at first, and a little slow, which is why I took away a star, but once the story started flowing, it was absolutely gripping.
It's depressing, it's sad, it's full of despair. But there's beauty there, beneath the mundane, beneath the ordinary, and even behind the seemingly ugly.
A new style I'm not used to. I would say it's kinda like Chuck Pahlaniuk, but it's not. Perhaps I'd place it in the same category, but Shannon Burke is another flavor of bitter coffee.
Loved this: "I held the camera to my eye but the view was cut by a swinging string of lights on a bridge cable. One light in the string flickered, faded, surged, and then died completely. Slightly, almost imperceptibly, the other bulbs brightened."
Safelight is the spare, haunting story of Frank, a young paramedic and amateur photographer working the streets of New York in the 90s. It is a time of crack wars and blazing neighborhoods, and Frank responds to a constant stream of carnage with disconnected apathy, shooting meticulous pictures of the injured and dead while his partner shields him from onlookers. Back at base, medics pass the photos around rating the best shots of degradation, not entirely oblivious to their artistic potential. Frank seems to be sleepwalking through life, a reaction to his father's recent death and wading through constant trauma day in and day out. Then he meets Emily and something begins to shift.
The medics of New York (all male) are detached, numbed, and calloused. There is no altruism here, merely survival. Most are doing the job because there’s really nothing else they believe they can do. They run the streets unsupervised in two man crews. It’s a time in New York’s history when crime and violence reigned and medics worked with little oversight or accountability. Frank and his hardened partner, Burnett, respond to patients as they see fit. They are good medics, but short on compassion and devoid of empathy, operating with a shattered moral compass. Patients may be beaten, narcotics may be stolen. It's all in a day's work.
Frank walks a thin line of self-destruction, yet despite his apathy, striking even for this crowd, he has a different perspective. Something is there, a consciousness, slumbering beneath his laconic exterior, waiting to break through. It’s on a call ending in bloodshed that he meets Emily and very slowly begins to wake up.
Emily is young, wounded, and HIV positive in a time when AIDS was laden with superstition and fear. No one at work is surprised that Frank is drawn to her (they all know he has a thing for the sick, dead, and broken) and they do their best to try and protect him. Yet, Emily is not the real danger, they are, with their coldness, their numbness, their hardened hearts—all side-effects of a job shutting them down and disconnecting them from humanity.
It is through Emily that Frank gradually becomes humanized, sensitized. By coming to know a dying girl his view of the world is slowly reborn. Emily is a lifeline that if embraced has the potential to reconnect Frank to the world and to himself. But will he take it?
As a medic, I find it interesting how the men of Safelight close themselves off, shut down a part of themselves in order to do their jobs. But what happens when the compartmentalization crumbles and the detachment begins bleeding over to the rest of their lives? What happens when you see tragedy on a constant basis, year after year, with too little time to decompress? How do you stay open to the tender beauty of life? Often, it is the ones we love who keep us tethered to our humanity and reveal the meaning of life. Without them there is not much to stop us from drifting off into the cold, dark void of emptiness.
Shannon Burke is a wonderful writer and Safelight is a fast, deep read. The writing is spare, haunting, and beautiful with a thoroughly believable character arc. Safelight, so named for the red light that illuminates Frank’s otherwise blacked out darkroom, starts out emotionally sparse and grows more intense as Frank begins to heal and awaken. By the end, I could not stop reading and when it was all over the story stayed with me a long time.
It's 1990 in New York City. Paramedic Frank Verbeckas is fairly aimless since his father's death, and he has developed a bizarre habit: he enjoys taking pictures of the ill, wounded, dead and down-and-out. He and his paramedic friends get involved in some fairly unsavory schemes, and it seems as if he's headed on a collision course with his own downfall.
And then he meets Emily, a professional fencer who is HIV-positive. She teaches Frank how to actually live life, while he helps her relax and realize that she doesn't have to face her challenges alone. Despite opposition from friends and family, the two build a relationship unchallenged by all that lies around them.
This is a terrific book. At times I wanted to kick Frank to make him take responsibility for his life and stop him from being so rudderless, but the transition he makes caused me to appreciate his character even more. Shannon Burke is a fantastic writer, as he has the ability to create hope out of the bleakest situations. (See his second book, Black Flies, and you'll understand what I mean.) This book is gritty and at times it makes you nervous for what might come next, but it really affected me, and has stuck with me in the weeks since I've read it. Take a chance on this one.
In "Safelight" Frank is a young college graduate who works a a paramedic in NYC in the early 1990s. Frank witnesses many horrific scenes of death and violence in the crime-ridden streets of the city and obssessivly takes pictures of these gruesome sights, developing and refining his work in the darkroom in his apartment. Frank appears to be on a dangerous nihilistic path. His father has recently died, his relationship with his brother is strained, and his paramedic friends are violent and dangerous. Into this turmoil comes Emily, an HIV-positive young woman. Through his relationship with Emily Frank begins to view things differently and he struggles to find some meaning in a cruel and violent world.
This is an excellent, minimalist, quick read. The characters and the world of paramedics is realistically drawn and Burke really evokes a time and place effectively. The storyline is compelling and the reader really comes to to care for Frank and his journey.
This book was apparently Burke's first novel. It was a quick read, and I enjoyed it for its peek at a novel that he perfected with Black Flies. Safelight struck me as a practice run. The plots aren't the same, but the characters and setting are. The narrator, a damaged but educated EMT, is slumming in Harlem with people who work there because they have no other choice. We watch his burnout and spiral into morally questionable territory, and then a bittersweet redemption. The writing is fairly tight, but not quite as brilliantly economic as that in Black Flies. I only recommend this one if you want to read a less perfectly crafted book by the same author.
I read this novel overnight. It was an incredibly well-written quick read, even though its main character (a NYC EMT who is fascinated by photographing the dead and/or dying and dates a woman with AIDs) was dark. I will definitely read Burke's other books because he picks unusual topics and characters. The book is not particularly big on deep character development and leaves a lot of loose ends, but I tend to like a book which does that because it causes me to think harder about the story and the outcome scenarios. But for people who prefer closure, this book may not be a favorite for you.
I wanted to end 2024 and start 2025 with books where I knew for certain the writing would be stellar, so for my last 2024 read I chose Safelight by Shannon Burke (and my first read of 2025 is Ann Petry's "The Narrows."). Black Flies is one of my all-time favorite books, and I also loved reading "The Brother Years". Safelight did not disappoint. All three books are very different, although Black Flies and Safelight have a similar setting, but reading Safelight made me feel like I was floating through this strange world with a detached characters, especially the main character, who didn't really care what happened to him. The writing is economical and beautiful. I think both Black Flies and The Brother Years are more fully realized - Safelight was the first work published - but Safelight still hit me as something special, and I've been thinking about it since I finished it. I have one Shannon Burke book left, but, as with Ann Petry, I am waiting for an occasion to read it because I know it will be good, and it is the last one I have to read of his. (As a side note, I was taping an audition early in 2024 and on the breakdown I saw the name Shannon Burke as the writer and exec. producer, and I wondered whether this could be Shannon Burke the novelist, and after googling, I found out it was! This made me very happy because I know it's still a struggle to make a living for many novelists/writers, but with the tv writing/producing he's probably doing fine. All this to say, I hope that more books will be written by him in the future.)
Not a feel good book, but a pretty good one nonetheless. It doesn't try to over-dramatize the slow deterioration experienced from AIDs or the relationship between a sick fencer (epee) and her troubled ambulance-attendant photographer boyfriend. I wasn't balling at the end, but I did feel sad. Something inside of me felt things might have been a little different had the book been placed in current times, but it takes place in 1990s New York. There are a lot of things I liked about it, and think many will enjoy it too.
This was a short read and focused on Frank, a man who has an interest in taking photographs of troubled people in difficult situations. The book is also about meeting a girl with AIDS and his relationship with her. I didn’t find the book to be written particularly well, and I felt it could be shorter.
A short little tragedy about AIDS and death. Not a light hearted book but a quick read with some vivid characters and a little glimmer of hope at the end.
Shannon Burke's Safelight is an ambitious undertaking that examines the decline of New York City and the decline of a paramedic, Frank Verbeckas. Through sparse and compelling language, dialogue, and plot points, Burke expertly immerses the reader into a series of dramatic scenes in which Verbeckas struggles to find himself amidst crime, disease, and the tragic death of his father.
Verbeckas is a paramedic and photographer, but his gift is capturing the reality that surrounds him, which in his eyes is the illness, death, and disease of the patients in crumbling New York City. His brother, Norman, is a top surgeon at a local hospital, and despite his arrogant manner and self-confidence, Norman struggles to break through his bully-like exterior to help his brother.
The short, clipped descriptions of this fight between brothers quickly provides the reader with an inside perspective of how Frank compares himself to his brother and how they relate to one another.
Through a series of disjointed, but related paramedic scenes, the reader gains a sense of Verbeckas' struggles and his downfall seems almost inevitable. However, meeting Emily, a professional fencer and HIV positive woman, becomes the catalyst that spurs Verbeckas' transformation. Burke utilizes his sparse narrative to describe the stillness Frank feels in the presence of Emily.
Being Burke's first novel, the reader probably would not have noticed the recurrence of black flies, but given my recent review of Black Flies and my recent interview of Shannon Burke, I noticed the black flies made it into this first novel as well. I also enjoyed the Burke's descriptions of Frank's photography and how he frames scenes in camera's viewfinder. As an avid photographer, these scenes were well described. Readers will appreciate the stark images and heart that permeates the narrative of Safelight. The evolution of Frank Verbeckas is swift and satisfying.
Safelight almost was a DNF for me but I kept reading because it was such a short book. I am glad I finished it.
My first impression with this one was, "This is so disgusting, what is wrong with this guy?" I didn't like Frank or his friends, I was disgusted by their behavior and their treatment of the trauma victims they encountered. I was completely baffled at the photography liberties that Frank took. What kind of jerk takes pictures of a fresh suicide without feeling some kind of, I don't kow, feeling? Then Frank starts a relationship with Emily, an HIV positive girl, and I am wondering what his motives are behind this new relationship. So I kept reading.
Let's just say that once I understood where Frank was coming from and I began to see him change, I began to relate to him and his choices. And as I watched Emily's life fade away and Frank take care of her, I realized that my disgust for Frank had faded as well. In the end, I have to say that I really liked this little book.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
When I started this book I gave it three stars on the way. The raw scenes and dark, sort of indifferent character of the book and persons, is impressive but can put you off a bit. What made it a four star for me is the evolving relationship between Frank and HIV patient Emily. Made me cry at the end pages. And all the descriptions of the scenery in and around New York. Dark and beautiful. Four stars for me. Talented writer. Looking forward to more.
After reading the author's novel "Black Flies," I had to read this one. I liked this book a lot. Even though the subject matter is dark, and deals with despair and loneliness, the reader comes away feeling that there is hope and beauty in the world, and in the characters, Emily and Frank.