Parsifal

by Jim Krusoe

Head-spinning and hilarious, Parsifal is a book like no other about the entanglement of the past and present, as well as the limitations of the future. There's a war going on between the earth and the sky, but that doesn’t stop Parsifal, a humble fountain-pen repairman, from revisiting the forest where he was raised. On his journey, Parsifal―a wise fool if there ever was one―encounters several librarians, a therapist, numerous blind people, and Misty, a beautiful woman who may well be under the influence of recreational drugs. Head-spinning and hilarious, Parsifal is a book like no other about the entanglement of the past and present, as well as the limitations of the future.

Genres: Fiction, Literary Fiction, Magical Realism, 21st Century, American, Novels

264 pages, Paperback

First published July 10, 2012

About the author

Jim Krusoe is an American novelist, poet, and short story writer. His stories and poems have appeared in Antioch Review, Denver Quarterly, BOMB, Iowa Review, Field, North American Review, American Poetry Review, and Santa Monica Review, which he founded in 1988. His essays and book reviews have appeared in Manoa, the Los Angeles Times Book Review, and The Washington Post. He is a recipient of fellowships from the National Endowment of the Arts and the Lila Wallace Reader's Digest Fund. He teaches at Santa Monica College and in the graduate writing program at Antioch University, Los Angeles. His novel, Iceland, was selected by the Los Angeles Times and the Austin Chronicle as one of the ten best fiction books of 2002, and it was on the Washington Post list of notable fiction for the same year. His novel Girl Factory was published in 2008 by Tin House Books followed by Erased, which was published in 2009 and Toward You published in 2010, also by Tin House Books.

Reviews

[Glenn Russell]

"When I began Parsifal, as odd as it was, it felt grounded because in one way or another it was my story."

So relates American author Jim Krusoe when discussing this off the wall, wacky short novel, his fifth following Iceland, Girl Factory, Erased, and Toward You.

Turning the pages of Parsifal, I had the distinct sense I was reading a tale with a strong autobiographical spin. By way of example, Parsifal features the ongoing war between sky and earth: large, heavy objects - car engine blocks, water pumps, microwave ovens, propane cylinders - repeatedly falling from the sky while the earth retaliates with erupting volcanoes, sandstorms and forest fires. Jim Krusoe told an interviewer his childhood was an unhappy one, growing up in a home where his parents argued and battled continually. How far removed is sky and earth combat in Parsifal from a young boy witnessing his mom and dad shouting, hurling insults and throwing objects at one another?

A word on the book's format: unlike his previous four novels, in Pasifal there's white space between paragraphs, sometimes very short paragraphs, even as short as a sentence or two. And the white space is there for a definite reason - per author Jim's own words:

"In ordinary prose every paragraph touches every other paragraph, leaving no room for the unknown. All that white space is important to me because, as in a poem, it signals that things are absent. The space represents everything mysterious for me in the story, and when I began it, this was practically everything. . . . The spaces are very, very intentional, and in fact they made it possible to write the book."

The story itself in its peculiar, kooky way is a hero's journey, most befitting since main character Parsifal shares his name with an Arthurian knight in quest of the Holy Grail. Also in keeping with that medieval tale, Parsifal is written in close third person, a departure for Jim Krusoe as all his previous novels are narrated in the first person.

For those new to the author, let me stress we're talking top-notch storytelling here, clear, accessible language propelling an entertaining yarn - quite the accomplishment since Jim Krusoe plays ping pong with time; or, in slightly more formal terms, his novel frequently moves, shuffles and shakes in nonlinear progression.

Picaresque, anyone? As medieval knight Parsifal (or Parzival) encounters various challenges as he embarks on his epic quest in search of the Holy Grail, so our tale’s hero sets out to return to the forest of his boyhood to find a metal soup cup his dad made for him, a cup emblazoned with the word “Fenjewla.” If you sense a bit of Monty Python tongue-in-cheek working here, you're probably right, however, there's good reason the novel carries an epigraph from Paul Verlaine, "What is the sadness that creeps into my heart?"

Sadness, indeed. On the very first page, a mini paragraph reads, "Parsifal is of average height, and more or less normal looking, except for the scar." Further on in the tale, many are the instances of son Parsifal subjected to abuse, both physical and emotional - case in point, Parsifal's home consisted of a thatched hovel where he couldn't open the front door; rather, he had to crawl through an underground tunnel lined with thorns and sharp roots sticking out every which way.

And Parsifal was raised mostly by his mother, Pearl, while his father, Conrad, spent his time away in the city as a stockbroker. Parsifal recalls his mom's repeated admonition, "Stick out your tongue and the bear will bite it off." Parsifal takes Pearl's words to heart since, after all, a bear actually broke into their hovel and killed his pet squirrel.

I found one Parsifel childhood episode positively heart-wrenching: two young boys, brothers, play a game with a small dog in the ocean: the boys drag the dog with a rope around its neck in the waves crashing in at the shore until the dog is drowned. Some game! Parsifal learns quickly the sadistic ways of the world.

Throughout the tale, Parsifal returns to his dreams of death. Parsifal tells a librarian (most of the women in Parsifal's adult life are librarians) that the only dreams he has are those where he dies. This preoccupation with dreams and death echoes the author's own ongoing theme of expanding notions of conventional reality by exploring the world of dreams and realms touching on death.

As an adult living in the city, Parsifal takes up an unusual occupation: he becomes an expert in the repair of fountain pens. Thus he meets beautiful Misty, a hippie-type lady in need of a fountain pen repairman for her Waterman fountain pen. Parsifal also has a string of interactions, some chance, a few more intimate, with the blind, those aforementioned librarians and his psychoanalyst Joe assigned to Parsifal following the lad's heinous crime (Parsifal set fire to his Happy Bunny Preschool).

Back on dreams and death. A librarian once shared a story with Parsifal about a man who was forced to spend the night in a graveyard. The man comes upon a fat ghost and a thin ghost in a heated argument. The thin ghost insists the man be the judge. After giving their respective positions careful consideration, the man judges in favor of the thin ghost. The fat ghost becomes so outraged, he bites off the man’s arm and gobbles it down then and there. The thin ghost is moved to take his own ghost arm and give it to the man. And so it continues throughout the entire night: fatty eats a body part and the thin ghost immediately replaces it. In the morning, the man is still conscious and can move all his body parts but he can’t be sure how much of him is man and how much is ghost. So the question posed by the story is: how much are any of us flesh (present) and how much ghost (past)? Parsifal thinks to himself, How much flesh, and how much scar?

Parsifal - combination left field quirky and deeply moving meditation on a sensitive man's sadness and pain as he searches for love in a world raining car parts and plumbing supplies.


American author Jim Krusoe, born 1943

[Greg · Rating 4 out of 5]

From an interview:
Meg Storey: The character Parsifal is named after the title character of an epic poem. How similar are their stories? In which ways do they differ?
Jim Krusoe: The poem has knights and the grail from the Last Supper. My novel has fountain pens, blind people, sexy librarians, a burning pre-school, double-entry bookkeeping, possible drug use, and court-ordered therapy. Other than that, they are identical.

Oh, my goodness, this modern iteration of the Parzival story is a keeper. In spite of the surface goofiness, Parsifal, a naif who turns out to be a kind of monstrous saint (or holy monster), carries with him in this retelling a barely suppressed grief that gives this book an emotional punch I never expected.

It is an advised fact that some acquaintance with the outlines of the medieval German poem will help keep you oriented. Nothing, however, will prepare you for the storybook absurdities: e.g., engine blocks and washing machines falling out of the sky, the serial librarians, the prophylactic sightless pedestrians.

(In Wolfram's version the Grail was a stone that fell out of the sky. Etymologically the word 'Grail' may reach back through its Old French and Latin to the Greek 'krater', from which we get 'crater,' of which there are many in this tale, caused by falling '57 Chevys, Airstream trailers, et cetera.)

[Bored to Death book club · Rating 2 out of 5]

“ And then for every thousand people, or ten or a hundred thousand people who had never dated a librarian at all (and didn't know what they were missing!), there had to be someone like him who had dated practically nothing but.”

What is this book about?
The earth and the sky are at war but our hero, Parsifal, is more interested in looking for an old cup in the woods he grew up in. Following Misty, an attractive girl who brought her fountain pen to Parsifal's Fountain Pen repair shop, he walks into a drug-filled dangerous adventure.

Why is it boring?
It all sounds rather interesting, but the adventure lacks any real excitement, any real emotion and any real interest. The story meanders along while Parsifal recalls his past and his many love affairs with librarians. The story is trying to be too quirky and the episodic storytelling hurts the book greatly.

Who would you recommend it to?
Literary hipsters. The book is filled with love for librarians, fountain pens and people who are different. Parsifal grew up in the woods with his mother while his father traveled back and forth between his job in the city and his home. His court-appointed therapist Joe is bad at keeping boundaries and likes to eat Chinese food with his patients. Nothing about this book is ordinary and the quirky characters fly of the page.

Why should I read it if it's boring?!
It is by no means badly written. The characters are fun and the writing can be funny, but I never got a good sense of the book as a whole. The journey Parsifal makes isn't very important and in the end it doesn't really lead him anywhere. The book has all the ingredients to be an adorkable masterpiece, but it falls short on actual story and can't keep my interest. The book and cover do look great, as I love a book with uncut edges, but if the physical characteristics of a novel are the best thing, it's not really worth recommending.

Rating 2/5

[Alex Lee · Rating 3 out of 5]

This is a particular strange book. It is less transgressive than say, Kathy Acker or "Bizarro Fiction" but it fits into that post-punk genre in terms of how the logic of the narrative weaves in a strange world with fantastic reasonings.

This book also kind of reminds me a little of Vonnegut. I thought this was pretty enjoyable to read. It's not hard. But there's something odd about the story, and Krusoe is able to really able to bring to some emotional grounding a strange world with strange characters who are emotionally stunted. It might be worth reading again; there are some beautiful passages in this book.

[Katie · Rating 5 out of 5]

There's a song called "Dancing in the dark." It is krusoe's work. You are fumbling, reader, grasping for something to hold you through the thread of a substantial narrative; you know it's important. But why? He provides none. He'll make you laugh. I laughed.
More importantly, he'll dance with you. A writer that comes and goes and comes back again and again...and again.


Parsifal is his book. It's a book he should die happy having written.
I'll die happy having read it.
This gun's for hire, even if we are just dancing

in the light.

[Rebecca Kuder · Rating 5 out of 5]

“If a person will only think about it, the first fountain pen was
undoubtedly the human body itself, with its seemingly endless
(till death do us part) supply of ink.” —p. 165, Parsifal

“A fountain pen forces no one to read its words.” —p. 224, Parsifal

As I read Jim Krusoe’s writing, which I’ve been doing since 1999, I find it simultaneously familiar and strange. In his work, I hear a persistent drumming behind the prose, a call. My ears strain to grasp the sound; it’s just beyond my reach. It occurs to me that it’s similar to how the musician Bill Frisell allows his past themes to reemerge and weave into the texture of the new, Don’t I recognize that from somewhere? Familiar, strange. By these haunts, I’m both lulled and awakened. What does that memory mean this time?

In Krusoe’s work, that mystery gives me permission to dream while I’m awake. Or, perhaps, as Krusoe puts it on p. 75 of Parsifal: “Somewhere there must be a word, some technical term, for a combination of anticipation, nostalgia, and dread.”

Then there are the pens. The protagonist of this novel repairs fountain pens. (Reminiscent of the protagonist in his first novel, Iceland, who repairs typewriters.) This persistent loyalty to archaic means of capturing story on page is a comfort in our era of disembodied ones and zeros. In the narrative weave of Parsifal, a sort of Aesthetics of The Fountain Pen emerges:

“‘In my experience,” Parsifal tells those who ask, ‘there are two kinds of people: those who enjoy complications and subtlety, and those who do not. If you are not the sort of person who enjoys complications and subtlety, then a fountain pen is not for you.’”—p. 191, Parsifal

I write first drafts on paper. The fountain pen is my primary tool. Wait! Am I “the sort of person who enjoys complications and subtlety?” Am I really? Or do I like things more tidy? Complications and subtlety are so messy! So uncomfortable! But evidently so appealing, so attractive. As a person who (apparently) enjoys complications and subtlety, the fountain pen thread was one of the primary pleasures as I read this novel. If we can trust the narrator of Parsifal:

“During the first years of fountain pens, prior to the actual Golden Age, which was roughly from 1910 to 1950—prior to the invention of the ballpoint, in other words—it is a little known fact that no fountain pen came with the small clip that holds it snugly inside a pocket of a shirt. That was invented by George Parker, of the Parker Pen Company, and ever since then it’s hard to imagine a pen without one (though some pens are still made this way, primarily for the Japanese market). So it is possible for something to come from nothing: no clip for many years, and then suddenly, a clip. And now, with the fountain pen practically extinct, the clip lives on, attached to ballpoints, and roller balls, and mechanical pencils, and laser pointers.”—p. 246

Jim Krusoe was my mentor in graduate school, and since then has continued to be a significant influence, inspiration, and support. In the classes I teach, we sometimes discuss why different writers write. I’ve never asked Jim why he writes, but I wonder if there’s a clue in Parsifal on p. 181, “Who was it that said our sole glory as humans is to leave behind a record of our crimes and desires?”

(Was it Jim Krusoe?)

[Jonathan Gruber · Rating 3 out of 5]

Jim krusoe is always entertaining. This was a super weird but fun story that involves things like a war between the earth and the sky that involves busses falling on people and a protagonist that grew up in the forest and now fixes fountain pens for a living. But the format wasn't great and wasn't ultimately as complete a story as his others.

[John · Rating 3 out of 5]

Ehh... Didn't make much of an impact. Sets out to be a kind of portrait of a man, a very simple mechanical kind of person and it succeeds at that. Definitely an interesting world, characters and stylistic choices but I never felt like I went anywhere else, always just reading the words. Interesting but dry.

[Matt Miles · Rating 5 out of 5]

The plot and realistic character development of Parsifal are satisfying enough, but the prose alone, added to the imagery, make for a satisfying read. Parsifal is a pen repairman, and his descriptions of pens provide a concrete example of Jim Krusoe infusing mundane objects and statements with a sort of magic. Even functions have meaning for the main character, and the spare beautiful prose helps the reader to believe it. The use of poetic refrain allows the reader to pause and appreciate the beauty of the language while simultaneously considering the significance of the words. Besides being thoughtful and well-realized, this is a beautiful book.

Parsifal is also funny. I looked up the source material, and found out that Parsifal’s name is thought to mean “pure fool”. The main character is foolish, but not in stereotypical ways. An example comes to mind of his matter of fact reaction to technology when city dwellers demonstrated it, as opposed to the country bumpkin amazement they expected. A bumpkin he is not. Like many of us, his foolishness consists of an everyday blindness to the world and people around him. Along with the absurdist events, a lot of the humor is derived from this.

I didn’t have to read too far to learn what the author wants us to know about the original story. He allows glimpses of bits and pieces of it that inform the main character’s quest. Familiarity with the original legend can be rewarding, but are by no means necessary to appreciate this story. The same could be said for Jim Krusoe’s other works. This was the first I heard of him, but after reading this I’m interested in seeking out his other novels. I can easily recommend this book to fans of surrealist fiction, poetry, and rich thought provoking storytelling.

[Wyndie · Rating 4 out of 5]

Parisfal, much like his namesake, is searching for the Holy Grail. However, this Parisfal’s Grail is fenjewla a cup given to him by his father. The story winds back and forth between his current life as a repairer of fountain pens, and his unusual childhood in the forest.

Much like his neighbors who are blind, he is also unable to see his world for the strangeness that it is. Quirky is too light of a word to describe Parsival. He has a librarian fetish (maybe not so strange), and grewup with his mother in a forest. The world from his childhood is just as peculiar as his adult life. The sky is at war with the earth, which perhaps wasn’t as obvious when he was a child. The sky drops objects of all sizes, washing machines, trailers and other junk yard mostly metal objects. There is no clear explanation for this, but it is a well-documented phenomenon and there have been many human casualties of this war.

I enjoyed the whimsical style of Krusoe, it was a creative and enjoyable read. I do have some issues with the lack of resolution at the end, but overall it’s a different and enjoyable read.

[Michael · Rating 3 out of 5]

This re-telling of the chaste and simple-minded Arthurian knight who found the Holy Grail is Jim Krusoe's most lackadaisical novel, following a gently sloping downward trajectory from his brilliant debut, Iceland. I liked the structure of Parsifal, especially in the way that Krusoe returned to themes and storylines, interweaving past, present, isolated ideas, and memory fragments. And some of his patented quirks are enjoyable here: Parsifal's romantic obsession with librarians, his super-casual therapist, etc. But the plot is beyond meandering, and the author's genial prose style is too often just blasé (or outright blah). And the war between the land and sky feels pointless, as do the troops of blind men circling Parsifal's house (aside from their condition's tie-in to a rather disappointing late-novel reveal). [By the way, my 3-star rating is rounded up from what I wish could be a 2.5]

[John Pappas · Rating 3 out of 5]

I really enjoyed some of Krusoe's other novels -- Girl Trouble and Erased, for example -- but in this case I found his absurd sensibilities and surrealism not tempered enough with authenticity to provoke a real connection to the title character. Obviously echoing Percival's quest for the grail, Krusoe's Parsifal is raised in the woods away from society, and unable to comprehend an apparent war between the sky and earth. After the death of his father (by his own hands) and his mother (mysterious fire), Parsifal moves to the city until a desire to reclaim a childhood cup (and his past) brings him back to the woods where he was raised. The book seems to want to function as a political allegory, satirically critical of the average citizen, but the way in which the allegory plays out doesn't work as powerfully as it could. Some nice passages, but not as strong as his past efforts.

[Alonna Shaw · Rating 4 out of 5]

A ponderful journey, slow and steady, this fairy tale's structure is a mixture of the main character's life told in flashes, like glimpses of clear sky flitting behind patches of soothing fog. Pauses, recollections, and moving forward.

Krusoe's odd and entertaining story contrasts nurture(mom) and nature (earth) with civilization (dad) and technology (sky), which combo wins?

Favorite quotes:

"It may be that a monster is simply anyone who does not ask the question as to whether he is a monster or he isn't."

"Parsifal had once heard that love will find a way, but a compass would also have been nice."

"Lost is only wanting to be somewhere you are not..."

"Remember: what ever you do , don't look back."

[John · Rating 4 out of 5]

Unlike the protagonist - Parsifal in this book, who's search for his grail leads us to this comment: "Parsifal would have settled for any personal item at all to prove that his trip had not been wasted, no matter how pathetic: it was not just Fenjewla that had been his reason for going, it could even be a button, or a bottle, a spoon - anything to prove that his past had been more than a dream. But there was nothing-no plate, no pot, no pan; the whole place had been picked absolutely bare,..." I found pleasure and satisfaction in this book. It's unusual structure and loose parallel to the Parsifal legend is interesting. I look forward to reading other Krusoe books.

[J · Rating 3 out of 5]

This book set a great, dreamy tone. The main character, who spends his life fixing fountain pens and engaging in a steady stream of romances with librarians, leaves the city to return to the woods, where he was raised. Meanwhile, the sky and the earth are at war with one another, with the sky hurling various items down towards the ground and the earth using volcanoes and the like to fight back. But it wasn't really able to do enough with this strange world it set up, and it petered out as it went on. A classic example that it is much easier to write the beginning of the book than the end of one.

[Madeline Knight-Dixon · Rating 2 out of 5]

I don’t really have much to say about this book… It’s that kind of post-modern absurdist writing that I don’t really connect with well. There were lots of really beautiful insights, tucked in amongst absolute nonsense.

The plot was fairly intriguing; a boy raised in the forest with his mother who then journeys to the city. But beyond that it’s just a lot of repeating the same small phrases over and over again and watching them evolve, which could be cool if they ever got to a point.

Just not really my kind of book I guess. I’m surprised I finished it.

[Sarah · Rating 3 out of 5]

The story is very good and the prose is extremely lyrical but the (what I thought) unique writing style used in The Sleep Garden is identical in this novel which is a little disappointing. The end is also extremely open which I normally love but not sure about it being used in a consistently open narrative. I'll keep reading all his works, because they are amazing but I'm probably going to take a break before going onto the next novel..

[julia · Rating 4 out of 5]

"Things falling; things going up in smoke—this was the mechanism, the motor that turned the wheels of the vast mindless world. Maybe it wasn't revenge at all, or hatred, or any of the names that our puny human vocabularies could bestow on this destruction; maybe it was more like inhaling and exhaling. The sky wasn't angry for any particular reason, nor was the earth getting even. It was just the way things were."

[Mythili · Rating 4 out of 5]

I loved how simple and absurd this story was. I loved the turkey fryers, washer-dryers, cutting boards and Chevy Impalas falling out of the sky, and I loved Parsifal's strange affairs with librarians and I especially loved the slow revelation of the truth about his parents' relationship. This is a weird book, though.

[Justin Tyner · Rating 3 out of 5]

A really weird book. I though the inner dialogue of Parsifal could have been a poem. A Hank Williams song in between? The battle between the Earth and the Sky was him. His Doctor was his dad? A bit confusing but very creative.

[Steve · Rating 5 out of 5]

review forthcomng

[Tam · Rating 4 out of 5]

Great book. Quirky, funny and unlike any other book I've read.

[Lori · Rating 3 out of 5]

from BEA 12

review to come

[Erik · Rating 3 out of 5]

***3.5 stars***

[Jessica Ponce · Rating 4 out of 5]

interesting book...leaves many questions to be answered; however i found it an enjoyable read