In a time before time began, one woman will dare the boundaries between madness and sanity to find the lost love that so ever has eluded her. Terror! Duplication!! History seen as it has never before. Bookthug presents GLENN PIANO BY GLADYS PRIDDIS, a high octane thrill ride of confession and crime, told as only wunderkind Jason Dickson could tell it THROUGH A LOCAL HISTORY INTERVIEW. Cry. Laugh. And prepare to meet your match in this year's literary sensation GLENN PIANO BY GLADYS PRIDDIS � if you dare.
Glenn Piano by Gladys Priddis is the biography of a 19th Century Canadian woman whose doctor is, unknown to her, a criminal practitioner of surgery. Their relationship, told through prose narration and poetry, exposes both her deep love and his deadly deceit. Intended to be a vindication of him as a physician, her story instead reveals that he is a quack, an impostor, and a murderer, and ultimately reveals a love that is horrific. The story of a woman seduced into the world of Canadian medicine at a time when only half of the practicing doctors were licensed, Glenn Piano by Gladys Priddis reveals her own history, the history of her city, the fatal trappings of her heart and mind, and the history of the strange man she was in love with and to whom she was devoted until her death.
Dickson’s work deals primarily with haunting — not horror, mind you, and not ghosts exactly (though his book Clearance does deal with ghosts more directly), but the feeling of being haunted, the strange ache and longing for something that never quite fully appears and yet somehow remains.
“Glenn Piano” evokes a surprising range of emotions, too, in this haunting kind of way — from wistful and beautiful lines written by his character Gladys Priddis, loving hand-written missives sent to the titular character Glenn Piano that are enough to give even the coldest reader goosebumps and a gentle rush of blood to the face, to the brief but shocking revelations of Priddis’ story given in passing with a deceptively matter-of-fact voice. In fact, Dickson’s indirectness or brevity is often the source of a tremendous power, as is the style of his prose, which seems conversational and ordinary at first but hides just below the surface a swirl of subtle, poetic flourishes to sweep you along. Without spoiling the details of the story, certain moments — the removal of a bullet in surgery, the banal recounting of the investigation of a murder — crawl into your heart like a worm even though they barely fill a paragraph in the book. “Glenn Piano” is rife with such moments that can seem to pass you by unaware only to reappear in your own visions again and again afterward.
Read this book for what it will do to you. It is an odd little book that will haunt you, whether you read its poems to your lover or turn over its mysteries in your head as you try to fall asleep. It will throw you off a boat into the water and you will no longer know which way is up or down, which version of the story is to be trusted, or whether you have been touched by a profound love or a disturbing tragedy.