Stephen Dixon was a novelist and short story author who published hundreds of stories in an incredible list of literary journals. Dixon was nominated for the National Book Award twice--in 1991 for Frog and in 1995 for Interstate--and his writing also earned him a Guggenheim Fellowship, the American Academy Institute of Arts and Letters Prize for Fiction, the O. Henry Award, and the Pushcart Prize.
What an immensely beautiful novel filled with the burbling anxieties and weirdness of living! This -- along with FROG -- is my favorite Dixon novel. Starting from the bravura opening chapters of Daniel Krin being invited to a party and going through all sorts of strange misadventures (kids on the subway, a misanthropic actor, the anxiety of what one does at the end of a party) and continuing through the odd patois of "The Street," to say nothing of Daniel's awkward dalliance with Helene, the autofiction vibe that carries this book reveals a great deal about what it was like to be a marginal and neurotic intellectual type in New York during the 1980s. I also noticed that there were three places here that were very close to Nicholson Baker's work, vibes and ideas that Baker appears to have ripped off: (1) that Daniel Krin is a poetry anthologist, (2) the "Whoop!" moment from THE MEZZANINE ripping off the "Excuse me!" moment among men in an early chapter here, and (3) much of the lonely phone banter sounding suspiciously like VOX. The difference is that Dixon is a much better and far more interesting writer than Baker and doesn't need the rumpling "nice guy" persona to sell us on his anxieties and observations. But, of course, the Baker brigade won't read Dixon. Not a lot of people read Dixon these days. I am filling in the gaps and realizing what a needlessly overlooked writer he was. He really deserves more respect.