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216 pages, Paperback
First published April 14, 2011
27FEB11. I CANNOT WAIT FOR THIS BOOK!! A Naked Singularity was so surprisingly good, so unrelentingly engaging, that when I heard the other day that De La Pava was publishing Personae this spring, I thought it was too good to be true. (Still sort of do!)
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27NOV17. Just finished my third or fourth...fourth I think trip through this carnival. Comments forthcoming...
[FULL DISCLOSURE: In March of 2011 I was paid by SDLP to copy-edit a draft of this book. It remains the only time I’ve ever been paid for writing-related work, and was an absolute thrill and pleasure to get to do; I’ve honestly never felt so guilty taking someone’s money.]
04DEC17.I’ve waited a very long time to comment here because, after falling deeply in love with A Naked Singularity, and after a nerdy and logorrheic fan letter resulted in my getting the Personae gig mentioned above, I was initially somewhat disappointed with Personae (“this ends just as it’s hitting its stride; what’s with this play? etc.”) and so kept mum. Over the years though, while I still wish there was WAY more Helen Tame (see below) and while I still have yet to grasp much of the philosophy in (and of) the core play, I have grown to love the rest, and enormously.
I've always found it helpful to think of Personae less as a novel and more as a directed story collection featuring a WONDERFUL character, the aforenamed Det./Dr. Helen Tame, and the object of her investigation, undiscovered—and now quite unalive—literary dynamo Antonio Acre. But only twenty-seven of this book’s pages are by or about Tame, and dammit I want more. She evokes Sherlock Holmes in most of the cool ways (social misfit; summoned by the local cops for really tough cases; a stratospheric self-confidence that’s by turns attractive and repellent), and is her own brand of cool otherwise (quirky metaphysical stuff for which I shoot the author a mischievous grin.)
I can't resist giving you a little taste. Here's Det. Tame conversing with a young police officer who is over-explaining his observations at the crime scene.
“Stop talking,” I say and he does. I am putting on gloves I designed years ago and staring at a clean spot on the carpet. “You can go now,” I say but he hesitates. “That means leave in Etiquette.”
“Just that, well, they didn’t really say what to do after calling you. In other words, does calling you obviate the need to call CSU? Do I fill out a report?”
“Likely.”
“Nothing about what constitutes proper procedure from here on out you know? So I’m at a bit of a loss.”
“Here’s why. You weren’t given further procedure because this is the end of the line for you. Once you call me and, more importantly, I come, then I alone make the determination of what constitutes, as you say, proper procedure from this point forward. Make sense?”
“Yes.”
“And I am repeating my invitation to you to join your partner in the hall, then the street, then your RMP to continue providing service and protection.”
“Accepted.”
“Well done.”
“With permission to add that when I started I told myself that to the extent I made errors they would be errors of commission and not omission.”
He had made the relevant O a little too long during which I diagnosed ambition and felt remorse. “You did well officer,” I say. “It is blood and in highly suggestive locations, good work.” I then take him by the elbow like a child, a quite involuntary sin of condescension that requires I atone by asking who his sergeant is then indicating I will deposit positive impressions there, and take him to the hall where I close the door before the partner can even form the intent to speak.
Now I’m tired. Even minimal social niceties exhaust me and the commitment to future such interactions doesn’t help..."