"Nowadays, who dares argue the case for happiness? My uncle was contrary enough to do so."
Rod Gass is accused of being a criminal. He's failed at careers that people didn't know existed. Now a custodian at the Van Allen School of Mortuary Science, he is enjoying himself immensely.
His niece Judy wants to know why. She is the only one ready to unveil this man, and to challenge him on his own terms. Rich in humor and with an acute sense of the absurdities of everyday life, Apology for Big Rod is an American success story of an altogether different sort.
Charles Holdefer is the author of five novels, including the forthcoming Bring Me the Head of Mr. Boots. His novel, The Contractor, was an American Booksellers' Association 'Book Sense Pick' and his hybrid collection Magic Even You Can Do was an SPD Handpicked selection.
His short fiction and essays have appeared in the New England Review, Chicago Quarterly Review, Los Angeles Review and Slice. His story "The Raptor" was selected for the 2017 Pushcart Prize anthology.
Charles grew up in Iowa and now teaches at the University of Poitiers, France.
Nine years ago the college where I worked decided to shut down, and the contents of its library were given away free to faculty, staff, students, friends, and neighbors. In the book frenzy that followed, my selections from the collection were not always very discriminating, as, for instance, I picked this one up simply because my name was in the title (and I am a big guy).
It's been sitting unread in my home library ever since, but I finally gave it a chance this week when my hand touched it as part of a personal cataloguing project I'm doing.
Well . . . at least it was free.
Turns out, Big Rod is closer to my brothers than me. They're all schemers with get-rich-quick plans that aren't entirely well-thought-out or necessarily legal. But like one of my brothers, the cad in this book has a certain charm that keeps people from spurning him despite his shortcomings.
Big Rod's biggest fan is his niece -- the narrator -- who documents the repeated "investments" and inevitable clashes between her iconoclastic uncle and her more conformist parents over the decades.
While the story wasn't bad, it wasn't good either. I found none of it particularly funny or revelatory, and the ending just slapped in a dumbfounding bit of silliness instead of dealing with anything.
Oh well.
Rod said, I don’t believe in God Rod died, and now he lays beneath the sod For God did not believe in Rod Life is a trouble and a weary track But, it says in the Farmers’ Almanac Feed your faith, and your doubts will starve to death - John R. Cash, Farmer's Almanac