In Bryan Washington’s novella, “Server,” the narrator finds himself living in two worlds—one where he is an English teacher in Japan, and the other, where he plays a video game with his best friend, who is dead.
Washington's work is always so intimate, so affecting, and so personal that I can practically smell the food his characters cook and hear their nightclub music ringing in my ears. We follow a Black american english teacher at a Japanese school for "at-risk" youth, who is unmoored both in his relationships with his challenging students, his long-term boyfriend, and the dead friend bizarrely resurrected on a dying video game server.
These narratives are effortlessly and complexly entangled in a way that allows us to anticipate the ending(s) without losing interest: Washington's pacing is careful and controlled. Observation, journeying, and intimacy for its own sake take the lead –– the ultimate "climax" and "resolution" are a secondary concern to relationships of person, place, and spacetime. It's a great homage to the literary tradition of the region where the story takes place, without compromising a vital critique of Japanese racial, class, and gender-sexual norms that cause immense harm (and their u.s. analogues). This novella is gorgeous, interesting, and meant to be savored, as is the case with everything in Washington's oeuvre.