Small Altars

by Justin Gardiner

A book that bends time and fragments narrative.

On the surface,  Small Altars  appears to narrate the story of two brothers, offering a singular portrayal of grief, loss, and the quiet violence inherent in adolescence. Gardiner considers the powerlessness of his narrator as he comes of age against a backdrop of comic books, piano lessons, and family secrets. At the same time,  Small Altars  explores—through form, style, and technique—precisely how memory works. By eschewing the impulse to rely strictly on chronology as a structural device, Gardiner instead creates a provocative fragmentation of time, meaning, and narrative. He interrogates our use of story to lend unity and cohesion to what are essentially discontinuous experiences, to find meaning in loss, grief, and their indelible aftermath.  
 

80 pages, Paperback

Published January 12, 2024

Reviews

[Genevieve · Rating 5 out of 5]

Heartbreaking and beautiful

[Anna · Rating 5 out of 5]

I write to you in praise of my friend Justin Gardiner’s new book, SMALL ALTARS — a work of art that is at once gorgeous, haunting, surprising, insightful, heartbreaking, and many other adjectives as well. Look, I’ve been a fan of Justin since olden days of him reeling off long poems by memory at the bonfires in North Carolina during the Warren Wilson College MFA residencies. And, as you can see, my Gardiner library has grown quite robust. But SMALL ALTARS is my very favorite. X-Men and brothers, mental illness and music, superheroes and grief, history and imagination — so much of the stuff of life is in this slim book. It made me cry; it made me smile; it lifted my heart. Lines from it still echo in my mind, long since I first read a draft manuscript. I mean it: it’s extraordinary. Give yourself the gift of reading this one, and sharing it.

[Andrew Jones · Rating 5 out of 5]

Small Alters is exquisite, heartbreaking, and honest. The precise lyricism of every page, paragraph, and sentence chart a course through loss and something as close as possible to healing old wounds. I can't say enough about how much heart is in this book--so much more that it belies its slim spine. Like the best nonfiction, Gardiner investigates the minutiae of life (in this case, the MCU, Clare de Lune, and medicine) and somehow makes really big conclusions about his life, his brother's life, and the lives of his readers.

Here's one of those nifty sentences Gardiner was able to write that is a superb lay-up for us, the reader, to understand the pain and opportunity of life: "Perhaps all he needed was what we all need: the chance to work through the strange and confusing phases of who we are." This book is the chance offered from the writer to his audience to make sense of our own strange and confusing phases.

Take the chance.

[Sarah · Rating 5 out of 5]

A small beautiful book