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Making Nice: A Novel in Stories
In Matt Sumell's blazing first book, our hero Alby flails wildly against the world around him—he punches his sister (she deserved it), "unprotectos" broads (they deserved it and liked it), gets drunk and picks fights (all deserved), defends defenseless creatures both large and small, and spews insults at children, slow drivers, old ladies, and every single surviving member of his family. In each of these stories Alby distills the anguish, the terror, the humor, and the strange grace—or lack of—he experiences in the aftermath of his mother's death. Swirling at the center of Alby's rage is a grief so big, so profound, it might swallow him whole. As he drinks, screws, and jokes his way through his pain and heartache, Alby's anger, his kindness, and his capacity for good bubble up when he (and we) least expect it. Sumell delivers "a naked rendering of a heart sorting through its broken pieces to survive.*"
Making Nice is a powerful, full-steam-ahead ride that will keep you laughing even as you try to catch your breath; a new classic about love, loss, and the fine line between grappling through grief and fighting for (and with) the only family you've got.
*Mark Richard
Making Nice is a powerful, full-steam-ahead ride that will keep you laughing even as you try to catch your breath; a new classic about love, loss, and the fine line between grappling through grief and fighting for (and with) the only family you've got.
*Mark Richard
240 pages, Hardcover
First published September 1, 2014
32 people are currently reading
1790 people want to read
About the author
Matt Sumell
13 books50 followersMatt Sumell is a graduate of UC Irvine's MFA Program in Writing, and his short fiction has since appeared in the Paris Review, Esquire, Electric Literature, One Story, Noon, and elsewhere. His first collection, MAKING NICE, is available in stores now.
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 126 reviews
June 7, 2018
[6/7/18 Update: A GR friend just rated this book, and seeing her rating reminded me, almost three years after I read this phenomenal book, how much I loved it. And since I have many more active friends now, I thought I'd resurrect my review. I envy anyone who gets to read this book for the first time.]
Raw, wild and free-wheeling, blasphemous, pained, and hilarious, Making Nice is a novel made from a collection of stories that work like the shards of a shattered window falling in such a way that you can still see the pane (pun intended). Angry-young-man narrator Alby is a pushover for a stranded baby cardinal he names Gary, his dog Sparkles, a possibly suicidal grasshopper, and a slug named Cherokee Bob, but he can't control his hair-trigger temper or his mouth or, the bigger problem, life—the fact that stuff happens, people suffer, and no matter how hard you love, everyone and everything dies. In this rollicking, nasty story of his travails, he explains himself:
Alby is a Holden Caulfield with no filters, on uppers, living in our crazy twenty-first century with way more noise, dysfunction, and heartbreak than Salinger ever imagined. This is scary-good funny writing that is sure to thrill some readers (moi) and enrage anybody who does not enjoy wallowing in and laughing at the darkness within us.
Raw, wild and free-wheeling, blasphemous, pained, and hilarious, Making Nice is a novel made from a collection of stories that work like the shards of a shattered window falling in such a way that you can still see the pane (pun intended). Angry-young-man narrator Alby is a pushover for a stranded baby cardinal he names Gary, his dog Sparkles, a possibly suicidal grasshopper, and a slug named Cherokee Bob, but he can't control his hair-trigger temper or his mouth or, the bigger problem, life—the fact that stuff happens, people suffer, and no matter how hard you love, everyone and everything dies. In this rollicking, nasty story of his travails, he explains himself:
Somewhere along the way I’d become incapable of relaxing, of allowing my body to be still, of rest. It isn’t that I have more energy than I know what to do with, because I don’t. It’s that my body is uncomfortable. It’s not pain, necessarily, but an antsy annoyance of the muscles and—when still—I become excruciatingly aware of just how uncomfortable I am. Then I have to move. I get up and pace around, shake my hand like I just touched something too hot, fidget, tap a table or countertop. I take long walks.
In a car, though, I’m stuck, and the entire drive up from Wilmington had been a nonstop series of seat adjustments and shoulder rolls, opening and closing windows, switching CDs and tinkering with the volume knob, rubbing my eyeballs and punching myself in the legs, as if hurting the leg hurts the ache that’s in it. I smoked a lot of cigarettes, cracked my knuckles, my ankles, my back and my neck, cracked everything that was crackable and bobbed my head in order to make a smashed bug on the windshield appear to fly just above the treetops bordering the interstate, until I banged my chin on the steering wheel while attempting to clear a particularly tall pine outside of Richmond. When that got old, I looked for things to look at: the rearview, the rearview, trees, a dead dog next to a blue hospital sign and GOD BLESS OUR SOLDIERS BEEFY BURRITO $1.39, the rearview—anything but the road itself. I’ve been in over a dozen accidents, all of which were my fault. I hit a bridge once. I drove through a closed garage door. It’s stopping I have a problem with.
Alby is a Holden Caulfield with no filters, on uppers, living in our crazy twenty-first century with way more noise, dysfunction, and heartbreak than Salinger ever imagined. This is scary-good funny writing that is sure to thrill some readers (moi) and enrage anybody who does not enjoy wallowing in and laughing at the darkness within us.
March 3, 2016
The first problem I had with "Making Nice" by Matt Summell is the lack of character development. I found it unbearable and impossible to root for or like the protagonist, Alby. Alby is basically a man-child. He takes no responsibility for his crude and unflattering behavior. He's a belligerent and immature alcoholic with severe anger issues, and he's incredibly disrespectful to the women he has casual encounters with. Borderline rapist, anyone??? The way he treats himself and others is vile and pathetic. Alby is a deeply-flawed character who never learns from his lessons. He bitches and moans for the majority of the book. The only time he seems to have a heart is when he takes care of a baby bird which he names Gary. Alby is heart-broken after the death of his mother (which is understandable). He wanders aimlessly around his neighborhood "searching" for meaning, but he's too lazy to make any real changes in his life. The second problem I had was Summell's writing style. The writing is so choppy and confusing. The way he writes about Alby is so randomly boring and distasteful. Such a shame because the first chapter of this book was funny and brilliant. After that, the story never gets off the ground. There's basically no plot. The rest of the chapters were draggy and pointless. The ending didn't feel like an ending at all. Don't waste your time or money. This book is a stinker.
March 30, 2021
Absolutely one of the most unique voices in decades.
Funny, wise, trenchant, self-aware but without the neurosis.
Beguinling as hell.
Funny, wise, trenchant, self-aware but without the neurosis.
Beguinling as hell.
October 12, 2024
76/ 2024
HACER EL BIEN
A estas alturas de mi vida puedo asegurar que he leído, mucho, muchísimo. Cómo lectora, como estudiante, para formarme como profesora de Literatura, para seguir formándome después, por gusto, por compromiso, por obligación o sin ella, como correctora, como editora para valorar las propuestas que me llegaban, para elaborar informes de lectura, como jurado en concursos literarios. He leído, vaya que sí.
Y entonces aparece una obra como esta para romperme los esquemas, para impresionarme. En mayúsculas. Porque, aunque hay muchos libros que me han gustado, enamorado o sorprendido, ninguno me ha impresionado tanto como este.
Podríamos hablar de literatura enmarcada dentro del realismo sucio, aunque cualquier etiqueta creo que le queda pequeña. Con una voz narrativa única, feroz y salvaje, el protagonista, un ser perturbado y perturbador, nos llevará de paseo por su mente, por sus vivencias, impulsos, pensamientos y anécdotas. Visceral e intenso como la bilis, conmovedor, sus páginas están pobladas de horror (porque te va a horrorizar en varios momentos), de poesía, de jugos gástricos y gatitos que ronronean... No sé si me explico.
Cuando le has cogido el punto y crees que ya te has hecho a su estilo, a su ritmo y cadencia, te lo cambia y sorprende, y te ves caminando de nuevo con unos zapatos que no son los tuyos. A un tercio del final descubres que ya no quieres quitártelos, miras a tu alrededor y te preguntas cómo ha podido cambiar tanto el paisaje, cuándo se ha vuelto todo tan intenso y tú tan permeable. Y te verás llorando y, en mitad del llanto, te arrancará carcajadas. Y de ese modo acabará este libro, con un final tan abierto como el de cualquiera de nosotros.
No es un libro para el lector medio, lo sé. Lo he corroborado al ver las reseñas y calificaciones que le han dado. Pobres, muy pobres. Insuficientes para lo que merece este libro y esta voz narrativa tan salvaje e irrepetible. Y es que al lector le gusta que le sorprendan, pero poquito. Las sorpresas tienen que estar de una forma concreta y en un momento concreto, como descubrir al asesino al final de una historia, pero no vengas con algo que desmonte lo preestablecido, la fórmula usada mil y una veces, que entonces sucederá lo que a este librazo, que pasará sin pena ni gloria cuando yo creo que he leído el mejor puto libro de mi vida.
HACER EL BIEN
A estas alturas de mi vida puedo asegurar que he leído, mucho, muchísimo. Cómo lectora, como estudiante, para formarme como profesora de Literatura, para seguir formándome después, por gusto, por compromiso, por obligación o sin ella, como correctora, como editora para valorar las propuestas que me llegaban, para elaborar informes de lectura, como jurado en concursos literarios. He leído, vaya que sí.
Y entonces aparece una obra como esta para romperme los esquemas, para impresionarme. En mayúsculas. Porque, aunque hay muchos libros que me han gustado, enamorado o sorprendido, ninguno me ha impresionado tanto como este.
Podríamos hablar de literatura enmarcada dentro del realismo sucio, aunque cualquier etiqueta creo que le queda pequeña. Con una voz narrativa única, feroz y salvaje, el protagonista, un ser perturbado y perturbador, nos llevará de paseo por su mente, por sus vivencias, impulsos, pensamientos y anécdotas. Visceral e intenso como la bilis, conmovedor, sus páginas están pobladas de horror (porque te va a horrorizar en varios momentos), de poesía, de jugos gástricos y gatitos que ronronean... No sé si me explico.
Cuando le has cogido el punto y crees que ya te has hecho a su estilo, a su ritmo y cadencia, te lo cambia y sorprende, y te ves caminando de nuevo con unos zapatos que no son los tuyos. A un tercio del final descubres que ya no quieres quitártelos, miras a tu alrededor y te preguntas cómo ha podido cambiar tanto el paisaje, cuándo se ha vuelto todo tan intenso y tú tan permeable. Y te verás llorando y, en mitad del llanto, te arrancará carcajadas. Y de ese modo acabará este libro, con un final tan abierto como el de cualquiera de nosotros.
No es un libro para el lector medio, lo sé. Lo he corroborado al ver las reseñas y calificaciones que le han dado. Pobres, muy pobres. Insuficientes para lo que merece este libro y esta voz narrativa tan salvaje e irrepetible. Y es que al lector le gusta que le sorprendan, pero poquito. Las sorpresas tienen que estar de una forma concreta y en un momento concreto, como descubrir al asesino al final de una historia, pero no vengas con algo que desmonte lo preestablecido, la fórmula usada mil y una veces, que entonces sucederá lo que a este librazo, que pasará sin pena ni gloria cuando yo creo que he leído el mejor puto libro de mi vida.
November 5, 2020
Segunda vez que lo leo tras cinco años y me sigue pareciendo exactamente lo mismo que en la reseña que escribí entonces. No cambiaría ni una palabra. Mucho menos las cinco estrellas que le casqué por aquél entonces.
------------------------------------------------
La “aventura” de Alby, protagonista de la novela, empieza fuerte. En las primeras páginas (No es spoiler, son las primeras 4 o 5 realmente) está decidiendo si enchufarle una hostia a su hermana o no, cuando rememora como, en el lecho de muerte tras una temporada degradada por un cáncer, su madre le hizo prometer que jamás pegaría a una mujer.
Con este inicio, ya me dirás tú como iba a perderme el debut de Matt Sumell. Escritor que ya pasa junto con Ben Brooks y otros cuantos a mi lista de autores favoritos de cabeza con una sola novela suya leída.
Y es que Sumell hace algo que parece muy fácil pero que creo que no lo es en absoluto, el contarte sucesos ocurridos en su vida (que para ser justos no es apasionante, ni de una diversión constante, ni profunda a poco filosófico que te pongas) y que no pierdas la atención ni te aburras en ningún momento.
Es que es más, ha sido acabar la novela y, como siempre, hacerme una pregunta bastante simple que suelo hacer a la hora de hacer el primer juicio de mis lecturas, la siguiente:
“¿De qué iba lo que he estado leyendo? o ¿Qué ha ocurrido durante toda la novela?”
Y aquí la respuesta puede ser un simple NADA ESPECIAL. Cristalino y limpio. Claro y brillante.
Pero justo ahí radica lo mágico en mi opinión, en que lo que te cuenta y sobre todo el cómo te lo cuenta (porque vaya forma de escribir que se gasta sin apenas florituras ni situaciones excesivamente excéntricas), hace que estés montado en una montaña rusa constante de emociones de la que no te bajas hasta que lo acabas.
Y como órdago ya… vaya parte final, sobresaliente aun en su simplicidad y sin artificios ni sensiblerías cutres. En la misma línea que el resto y de alguna forma ahí te quedas, hecho un cromo.
En definitiva, lectura obligatoria a poco fan de las “lecturas distintas” que seas, porque de verdad que es un libro bastante especial. Puede odiarse o amarse pero desde luego se sale de lo habitual y eso, al menos para mí, siempre es digno de elogio.
A destacar: Una vez más, una buena muestra de que a veces para que una novela sea buena no es tanto el QUÉ te cuenten si no el COMO.
------------------------------------------------
La “aventura” de Alby, protagonista de la novela, empieza fuerte. En las primeras páginas (No es spoiler, son las primeras 4 o 5 realmente) está decidiendo si enchufarle una hostia a su hermana o no, cuando rememora como, en el lecho de muerte tras una temporada degradada por un cáncer, su madre le hizo prometer que jamás pegaría a una mujer.
Con este inicio, ya me dirás tú como iba a perderme el debut de Matt Sumell. Escritor que ya pasa junto con Ben Brooks y otros cuantos a mi lista de autores favoritos de cabeza con una sola novela suya leída.
Y es que Sumell hace algo que parece muy fácil pero que creo que no lo es en absoluto, el contarte sucesos ocurridos en su vida (que para ser justos no es apasionante, ni de una diversión constante, ni profunda a poco filosófico que te pongas) y que no pierdas la atención ni te aburras en ningún momento.
Es que es más, ha sido acabar la novela y, como siempre, hacerme una pregunta bastante simple que suelo hacer a la hora de hacer el primer juicio de mis lecturas, la siguiente:
“¿De qué iba lo que he estado leyendo? o ¿Qué ha ocurrido durante toda la novela?”
Y aquí la respuesta puede ser un simple NADA ESPECIAL. Cristalino y limpio. Claro y brillante.
Pero justo ahí radica lo mágico en mi opinión, en que lo que te cuenta y sobre todo el cómo te lo cuenta (porque vaya forma de escribir que se gasta sin apenas florituras ni situaciones excesivamente excéntricas), hace que estés montado en una montaña rusa constante de emociones de la que no te bajas hasta que lo acabas.
Y como órdago ya… vaya parte final, sobresaliente aun en su simplicidad y sin artificios ni sensiblerías cutres. En la misma línea que el resto y de alguna forma ahí te quedas, hecho un cromo.
En definitiva, lectura obligatoria a poco fan de las “lecturas distintas” que seas, porque de verdad que es un libro bastante especial. Puede odiarse o amarse pero desde luego se sale de lo habitual y eso, al menos para mí, siempre es digno de elogio.
A destacar: Una vez más, una buena muestra de que a veces para que una novela sea buena no es tanto el QUÉ te cuenten si no el COMO.
June 18, 2015
I'm a little surprised, honestly, that there are so many low-star reviews for this book, because I thought it was one of the best books I've read in months. The main character--Alby, Albert, Al (Matt?)--is crass and irreverent, just a colossal a-hole, to be sure. But the vulnerability! Oh, man, I felt like I was flailing right along with the guy. I felt his pain and understood his desperation as he tried to grapple with the death of his mother (and the Disappointment that is his father). Would I ever want to be friends with him? Absolutely not. And God forbid he try to hit on me in a bar. But as an outsider, as an observer with no ties to or responsibility over this character, I could allow myself to empathize with him. And I most definitely did.
Sumell's writing style certainly helped those feelings along. He has a unique approach. He's all over the place, kind of random stream-of-consciousness. It could be confusing at times, but I enjoyed it. It made me FEEL something. It made me connect with the characters, almost like I could tap into their emotional states in a way that traditional dialogue or linear storytelling could never accomplish. Like this, for example:
So I have to wonder then if [loss] could be better explained with numbers, if there's some equation, some formula that could calculate the force by which my mother's death impacted me. So shattered was my spoiled-white-kid understanding of the world by it that I'm convinced momentum and mass somehow come into play. Maybe an algorithm could better explain how her suffering and dying divided time into before and after, could calculate how precious my dog became to me as a result, could communicate how his loss seemed like a loss compounded, interest earned on a previous injury. Maybe math could help me understand why--after suffering for so long--I don't get better at suffering. But I don't. Every time, I don't.
There is a rawness to both the characters and the method of storytelling in this book. It all felt fresh and interesting. Alby may have irritated me, but I still liked him. I wanted to know more about him, and, eventually, I wanted him to succeed.
One thing I will mention, there is a whole lot of profanity and crassness (and a whole lot of profane, crass sex talk) in this book. You're going to want to prepare yourself for that. For me, it was never offensive, but I'm not really offended easily. It also helped that I thought Alby was ridiculously funny; I just couldn't take even his most disgusting remarks seriously. But I'll still put the warning out there.
Overall, this was such a good read. I am so happy I picked up the book, and I would definitely recommend giving it a go--despite all the meh reviews.
See more of my reviews at www.BugBugBooks.com!
Sumell's writing style certainly helped those feelings along. He has a unique approach. He's all over the place, kind of random stream-of-consciousness. It could be confusing at times, but I enjoyed it. It made me FEEL something. It made me connect with the characters, almost like I could tap into their emotional states in a way that traditional dialogue or linear storytelling could never accomplish. Like this, for example:
So I have to wonder then if [loss] could be better explained with numbers, if there's some equation, some formula that could calculate the force by which my mother's death impacted me. So shattered was my spoiled-white-kid understanding of the world by it that I'm convinced momentum and mass somehow come into play. Maybe an algorithm could better explain how her suffering and dying divided time into before and after, could calculate how precious my dog became to me as a result, could communicate how his loss seemed like a loss compounded, interest earned on a previous injury. Maybe math could help me understand why--after suffering for so long--I don't get better at suffering. But I don't. Every time, I don't.
There is a rawness to both the characters and the method of storytelling in this book. It all felt fresh and interesting. Alby may have irritated me, but I still liked him. I wanted to know more about him, and, eventually, I wanted him to succeed.
One thing I will mention, there is a whole lot of profanity and crassness (and a whole lot of profane, crass sex talk) in this book. You're going to want to prepare yourself for that. For me, it was never offensive, but I'm not really offended easily. It also helped that I thought Alby was ridiculously funny; I just couldn't take even his most disgusting remarks seriously. But I'll still put the warning out there.
Overall, this was such a good read. I am so happy I picked up the book, and I would definitely recommend giving it a go--despite all the meh reviews.
See more of my reviews at www.BugBugBooks.com!
January 20, 2015
It's taken me a few weeks to process this book - and still, I'm not quite sure whether to give this one star or four. I'm settling on two, because Sumell is certainly a talented writer, some of it made me laugh out loud, and it touches on a topic I'm deeply interested in (and know too much about, unfortunately): the death of a parent. Sumell does a particularly good job of illustrating family dynamics before and after the loss of his mother (not a spoiler; you learn this in the first few pages) - how some people change and some stay the same, some become better people because of their grief, others become worse. I lost my father at 23, and something very few people warned me about was how different my entire family would become after his death. It's as if we no longer had a center, and Sumell does a really good job of demonstrating how the loss of his mother impacted him individually and collectively as a family.
The main character in Making Nice is Alby, and frankly, he's the reason I would give this one star. I hated this character for so many reasons. He's disgusting and crass and crude and gross and doesn't do anything that's the least bit charming or endearing throughout this entire book.
But let me tell you about a scene with Alby that made me feel ALL THE RAGE. I almost stopped reading the book because of it (and probably would have had I not felt an obligation to continue and review because I received an ARC from Goodreads). Our Alby is making out with a girl at a bar - maybe it was a friend of a girlfriend's friend, someone he knew vaguely but definitely not his girlfriend - and takes her home. They continue making out, etc. This gal (which truly, I have no idea how someone like Alby ever convinced anyone to make out with him) continues to tell him that she doesn't want to have sex. Alby keeps trying to "slip it in" (without protection, of course) and she continues to tell him that she doesn't want to have sex and he keeps trying to "slip it in" anyway until she finally is too drunk or tired of protesting or whatever and then Alby is victorious because she gives in and they have unprotected sex and the way he writes about his success makes me want to vomit. Oh good grief I'm feeling so rageful again writing about this. You know what? I don't even know how to rate this. It makes me so angry that a writer would create a character who could write so flippantly about non-consensual sex and make it seem as though NOTHING was wrong with it. There are going to be guys, old and young, who read this and think "oh yeah, I've done that before, heh" and girls who read this and think "I want to scream and punch someone in the jaw because I've had guys do that before and this male writer is writing about this with no care in the world, like it's totally not assault to ignore a girl who says no because I'll just slip it in and then she agrees right?"
Maybe this is more of an issue for me than I realized. Yeah, I can't give this one three stars. Because this isn't the only time Alby completely disparages women, it happens throughout the entire book. It reminded me a little of Charles Bukowski's work, which also gives me the rage due to his treatment of female characters.
I have a feeling guys are going to like this one, but I wonder how females will react. I was going to write this really introspective response linking to this article by Jim Shepard about redemption of characters in Flannery O'Connor's work but after processing the scene above, I just can't give it that level of respect just now.
So, in conclusion: Sumell is talented, but read this one at your own risk.
The main character in Making Nice is Alby, and frankly, he's the reason I would give this one star. I hated this character for so many reasons. He's disgusting and crass and crude and gross and doesn't do anything that's the least bit charming or endearing throughout this entire book.
But let me tell you about a scene with Alby that made me feel ALL THE RAGE. I almost stopped reading the book because of it (and probably would have had I not felt an obligation to continue and review because I received an ARC from Goodreads). Our Alby is making out with a girl at a bar - maybe it was a friend of a girlfriend's friend, someone he knew vaguely but definitely not his girlfriend - and takes her home. They continue making out, etc. This gal (which truly, I have no idea how someone like Alby ever convinced anyone to make out with him) continues to tell him that she doesn't want to have sex. Alby keeps trying to "slip it in" (without protection, of course) and she continues to tell him that she doesn't want to have sex and he keeps trying to "slip it in" anyway until she finally is too drunk or tired of protesting or whatever and then Alby is victorious because she gives in and they have unprotected sex and the way he writes about his success makes me want to vomit. Oh good grief I'm feeling so rageful again writing about this. You know what? I don't even know how to rate this. It makes me so angry that a writer would create a character who could write so flippantly about non-consensual sex and make it seem as though NOTHING was wrong with it. There are going to be guys, old and young, who read this and think "oh yeah, I've done that before, heh" and girls who read this and think "I want to scream and punch someone in the jaw because I've had guys do that before and this male writer is writing about this with no care in the world, like it's totally not assault to ignore a girl who says no because I'll just slip it in and then she agrees right?"
Maybe this is more of an issue for me than I realized. Yeah, I can't give this one three stars. Because this isn't the only time Alby completely disparages women, it happens throughout the entire book. It reminded me a little of Charles Bukowski's work, which also gives me the rage due to his treatment of female characters.
I have a feeling guys are going to like this one, but I wonder how females will react. I was going to write this really introspective response linking to this article by Jim Shepard about redemption of characters in Flannery O'Connor's work but after processing the scene above, I just can't give it that level of respect just now.
So, in conclusion: Sumell is talented, but read this one at your own risk.
October 27, 2024
Una novela en la que no pasa nada y pasa todo, en la que Alby, personaje principal, es odioso hasta la extenuación y que narrado en primera persona nos contará de forma no lineal peripecias de su vida:
Fo..ar con chicas, beber hasta perder el sentido, ser violento con sus hermanos y padres, un maremágnum de situaciones narradas con un vocabulario directo y sucio, al pan pan y al vino vino.
Y luego según va llegando el final todo se pone patas arriba, en el sentido en que puede aparecer algo de humanidad instantánea en un personaje odioso durante toda la novela. Un pequeño halo de luz.
Hoy día 27/10/24 mi amiga Sensi se lo ha terminado y ambas tras haber debatido y destripado la novela, hemos llegado a la misma conclusión: No, no nos ha gustado, el lenguaje más que soez y la situaciones tan desagradables escatológicas y sexualmente hablando, no nos han convencido para contar una historia de duelo y poca cordura como la de este personaje. Ambas hemos tenido dos diferentes teorías sobre su final y las dos válidas.
No nos ha parecido innovador el tema que trata y como lo trata, si bien es cierto que sí es pionero en la manera tan soez y desagradable que tiene de narrar y en esa estructura de tests en algunas páginas, que te deja con cara de…¿esto era necesario para mostrar el nivel de degradación de un ser humano? 🤷🏻♀️
No, no hemos empatizado con la historia a pesar de haber algunas situaciones o frases más incisivas, de esas que te hacen reflexionar sobre la vida en general que sí nos han gustado.
Se hace tediosa la lectura, ya que, se hacen repetitivas las conductas del personaje principal. Imaginaos al hombre más gilip*llas, violento, patán del mundo y con su cordura mermada, concentrado en un solo personaje, y estar leyendo sobre su vida. Ese es Alby y esta novela.
No, no vale decir que a los que no nos ha gustado es porque nos hemos quedado en la superficie, no, no es eso, es simple y llanamente que el mensaje que el autor quiere transmitir queda desdibujado por lo grotesco de todo lo que narra.
Fo..ar con chicas, beber hasta perder el sentido, ser violento con sus hermanos y padres, un maremágnum de situaciones narradas con un vocabulario directo y sucio, al pan pan y al vino vino.
Y luego según va llegando el final todo se pone patas arriba, en el sentido en que puede aparecer algo de humanidad instantánea en un personaje odioso durante toda la novela. Un pequeño halo de luz.
Hoy día 27/10/24 mi amiga Sensi se lo ha terminado y ambas tras haber debatido y destripado la novela, hemos llegado a la misma conclusión: No, no nos ha gustado, el lenguaje más que soez y la situaciones tan desagradables escatológicas y sexualmente hablando, no nos han convencido para contar una historia de duelo y poca cordura como la de este personaje. Ambas hemos tenido dos diferentes teorías sobre su final y las dos válidas.
No nos ha parecido innovador el tema que trata y como lo trata, si bien es cierto que sí es pionero en la manera tan soez y desagradable que tiene de narrar y en esa estructura de tests en algunas páginas, que te deja con cara de…¿esto era necesario para mostrar el nivel de degradación de un ser humano? 🤷🏻♀️
No, no hemos empatizado con la historia a pesar de haber algunas situaciones o frases más incisivas, de esas que te hacen reflexionar sobre la vida en general que sí nos han gustado.
Se hace tediosa la lectura, ya que, se hacen repetitivas las conductas del personaje principal. Imaginaos al hombre más gilip*llas, violento, patán del mundo y con su cordura mermada, concentrado en un solo personaje, y estar leyendo sobre su vida. Ese es Alby y esta novela.
No, no vale decir que a los que no nos ha gustado es porque nos hemos quedado en la superficie, no, no es eso, es simple y llanamente que el mensaje que el autor quiere transmitir queda desdibujado por lo grotesco de todo lo que narra.
January 5, 2015
This is the best book I've read in a long time. It has everything you want when you sit down to read a great novel, and a heartbreakingly real narrator named Alby that you grow to love over the course of the book. Alby is fully broken after the death of his mother and this is his account of why he is the way he is. Almost every page has a line or lines that will make you laugh out loud. This is the funniest book I've ever read, and it's also achingly sad in parts, sections that will make you wanna cry because Alby's hurt is so real and so fully lived out on the page. Sumell dares to be sentimental, and it is this realness that makes the book so memorable. I believe Alby will go down as one the great literary narrators of our time, and when this book comes out I hope you have a copy in hand. You're gonna love it.
December 2, 2019
You know that kind of cute, sometimes charming total loser that you slept with that one time when you were bored and drunk? This is a series of interconnected short stories about him. Sumell has some nice verbal gymnastics, but I couldn't find a way to like this. (Note: I received an advance review copy.)
December 30, 2014
Sumell’s debut novel is an asskicker. Alby, 30, is a spazz. Whether he’s your kid brother, older brother, stepbrother, or maybe your own damn self, Alby is family and the only thing you can predict about him is his unpredictability. He’s annoying, loses most of the fistfights he starts, and he’s not all that fun to be around: exactly why he is so real, so riveting. Readers meet him soon after his mother has died from cancer and he is completely undone by grief. Though filled with brio, Alby doesn’t know what to do with himself and has the tendency to lash out, like when he punches his sister “right in the tits” (it “skimmed over the right tit and landed solidly on the left”). Amid other powerful vignettes, Alby adopts an abandoned baby chick which is “almost transparent. He looked like a dog’s heart with a bird’s head stuck on, a blob with a beak…” Alby names him Gary and envisions him growing into “a goddamn falcon that flies around the neighborhood all day eating raccoons and dogs and toddlers before he flies back to my forearm and takes shits.” Over innumerable Hot Pockets in the kitchen, Alby explains to his concerned, amputee father that “I got a thing in my heart for helpless things that need me, OK?” If Alby doesn’t make too much nice with people, it’s only his tempestuous honesty and genuineness that prevents it. Seemingly unlikable, Alby is actually honest, if energetically troubled, with a voice reminiscent of Scott McClanahan’s in Crapalachia. VERDICT This excellent, readable, and engaging story cycle begins what I hope will be many from Sumell, whose comic timing and dead-on black humor are welcome any time in my house. Does a man-child raising a female cardinal he names Gary as a falcon whom he envisions as ‘hunting mammals and butt-fucking seagulls” make you laugh? If not, skip it but most dudes will say, “you had me at ‘Gary.’”
Find reviews of books for men at Books for Dudes, Books for Dudes, the online reader's advisory column for men from Library Journal. Copyright Library Journal.
Find reviews of books for men at Books for Dudes, Books for Dudes, the online reader's advisory column for men from Library Journal. Copyright Library Journal.
January 2, 2015
I'm not sure why I went ahead and decided to read this book. Something about the description must have captured me, but the opening chapter turned me off. i put it down for a few days, but then I kept reading. And I laughed. I laughed out loud! And I felt compassion and even an affection for the crazy narrator, Alby, as well as for his family. I was also inspired to keep reading since I grew up on Long Island, which is the main setting for this story. So the book had a couple of things going for it, including the fact that i found myself laughing out loud quite often.
Alby is an angry young man--think Holden Caufield meets a straight David Sedaris--he is disillusioned, and from a highly dysfunctional but loving family,grieving over the loss of his mother and trying to deal with the inability of his dad to cope with the loss. Their family is dysfunctional to start with, as so many families are. Alby drinks, fights, and is almost completely unable to control his impulses to do and say the whatever comes into his head. He is clearly a man of actin. But he is also a very sensitive person. When you get to know Alby, you might even like him. Many people do. And he is also someone who is has a natural love for the helpless and the hurt.
Don't expect an amazingly written and beautiful novel, but this might be something you could take a chance on. The writing reflects the gritty nature of a family that has experienced great loss and pain, reflected in one family member. Alby is funny, angry, horrible, and lovable all at the same time. you might even need a tissue. The honest story makes up for the lack of polish in the writing, and was actually suitable, since Albvy is anything but polished. I'd give Mr Sumell a chance again.
***LANGUAGE ALERT!!!***
If you are easily offended by bad language, or base talk about sexual acts, this is NOT the book for you. Do not read this. If you can accept that some characters (and people) use this language as a regular part of their vocabulary, and that it is part of what makes this book work, than you may do okay. I had a hard time when I first started reading the book because of this language, but then you see who he is, and how it is necessary to understand the narrator.
Alby is an angry young man--think Holden Caufield meets a straight David Sedaris--he is disillusioned, and from a highly dysfunctional but loving family,grieving over the loss of his mother and trying to deal with the inability of his dad to cope with the loss. Their family is dysfunctional to start with, as so many families are. Alby drinks, fights, and is almost completely unable to control his impulses to do and say the whatever comes into his head. He is clearly a man of actin. But he is also a very sensitive person. When you get to know Alby, you might even like him. Many people do. And he is also someone who is has a natural love for the helpless and the hurt.
Don't expect an amazingly written and beautiful novel, but this might be something you could take a chance on. The writing reflects the gritty nature of a family that has experienced great loss and pain, reflected in one family member. Alby is funny, angry, horrible, and lovable all at the same time. you might even need a tissue. The honest story makes up for the lack of polish in the writing, and was actually suitable, since Albvy is anything but polished. I'd give Mr Sumell a chance again.
***LANGUAGE ALERT!!!***
If you are easily offended by bad language, or base talk about sexual acts, this is NOT the book for you. Do not read this. If you can accept that some characters (and people) use this language as a regular part of their vocabulary, and that it is part of what makes this book work, than you may do okay. I had a hard time when I first started reading the book because of this language, but then you see who he is, and how it is necessary to understand the narrator.
August 10, 2015
3.5
Estoy cansado de lo poíticamente correcto, de las convenciones, de todo aquel que juzga qué tenemos que sentir y cómo. No hay concesiones para el protagonista de la novela, Alby: es un gilipollas integral, la última persona que querríamos tener alrededor en los momentos en los que nos arrastramos por el suelo porque un comentario insensible de su parte haría que deseáramos más que nada que se abriera una grieta y nos succionara, la última persona que querríamos tener alrededor cuando hemos bebido un par de copas de más y estamos bailando sobre la barra, saltando hasta querer intentar tocar los focos con la punta de los dedos, Alby se encargaría de meterse en una pelea o de aguar la fiesta al nivel del combinado que hemos dejado en la barra por no poder tolerar una gota más.
Pero aquí hay un juego de espejos. Alby ha sufrido una pérdida, un golpe duro que no ha sabido encajar y si bien Sumell no lo justifica, Alby ha sido siempre un auténtico imbécil, es capaz de mostrarnos toda su vulnerabilidad y su incapacidad de lidiar con ella.
No llego a entender a todos los que han valorado el libro con tal falta de estrellas. Sí, tiene fallos: la irreverencia a veces da una vuelta de tuerca más, el sentido del humor puede resultar algo hiriente pero la historia no está ahí: es necesario sacudir las palabras de las páginas con la mano y quedarse con el vacío, con el espacio en blanco que Alby no sabe llenar.
Estoy cansado de lo poíticamente correcto, de las convenciones, de todo aquel que juzga qué tenemos que sentir y cómo. No hay concesiones para el protagonista de la novela, Alby: es un gilipollas integral, la última persona que querríamos tener alrededor en los momentos en los que nos arrastramos por el suelo porque un comentario insensible de su parte haría que deseáramos más que nada que se abriera una grieta y nos succionara, la última persona que querríamos tener alrededor cuando hemos bebido un par de copas de más y estamos bailando sobre la barra, saltando hasta querer intentar tocar los focos con la punta de los dedos, Alby se encargaría de meterse en una pelea o de aguar la fiesta al nivel del combinado que hemos dejado en la barra por no poder tolerar una gota más.
Pero aquí hay un juego de espejos. Alby ha sufrido una pérdida, un golpe duro que no ha sabido encajar y si bien Sumell no lo justifica, Alby ha sido siempre un auténtico imbécil, es capaz de mostrarnos toda su vulnerabilidad y su incapacidad de lidiar con ella.
No llego a entender a todos los que han valorado el libro con tal falta de estrellas. Sí, tiene fallos: la irreverencia a veces da una vuelta de tuerca más, el sentido del humor puede resultar algo hiriente pero la historia no está ahí: es necesario sacudir las palabras de las páginas con la mano y quedarse con el vacío, con el espacio en blanco que Alby no sabe llenar.
June 24, 2015
I know better than to choose a book based on cover design or cover blurbs, but this one suckered me in on both counts. Then I spent 4 days trying to decide if I loved it or hated it.
I've read lots of loser men novels (I'm talking to you Jonathan Tropper), but the losers are usually lovable, or at least trying to be lovable. Matt Sumell takes his loser Alby to a whole new level of crude, abrasive violence and several times I just wanted to stop reading. But then, there were moments of such great writing, I'd be drawn back in.
I can't exactly recommend this book, but I would be interested in reading more of this author's work.
I've read lots of loser men novels (I'm talking to you Jonathan Tropper), but the losers are usually lovable, or at least trying to be lovable. Matt Sumell takes his loser Alby to a whole new level of crude, abrasive violence and several times I just wanted to stop reading. But then, there were moments of such great writing, I'd be drawn back in.
I can't exactly recommend this book, but I would be interested in reading more of this author's work.
March 3, 2015
I will not apologize for enjoying Matt Sumell's Making Nice. The book's interrelated stories essentially constitute a novel, albeit a work that's rude, crude and assuredly offensive to many. Too bad for those who interpret the book with such shortsightedness. I found Making Nice a genuine representation packed full of real-world vernacular, experiences, issues and emotions. Sumell deserves credit for authoring such an honest book that effectively and poignantly--movingly, even--explores the pain of loss, aging and unrealized dreams.
March 13, 2015
Go get this book. By the time you're at page 189 and you read this gem:
Still, his life (Dad) now seemed so depressing I was starting to believe he actually did want to die, because I probably would, and I followed him into the kitchen and asked if he was still taking his antidepressants. He wasn't, he said, bc they made him tired.
Narrator/son: "You know dead is like being super tired forever, right?"
Dark? Yes. But genuine, honest, offensive and funny? Also yes. This is only one of a double dozen times I have laughed or smirked unconsciously from reading this book on the subway. People must think I'm 12.
Still, his life (Dad) now seemed so depressing I was starting to believe he actually did want to die, because I probably would, and I followed him into the kitchen and asked if he was still taking his antidepressants. He wasn't, he said, bc they made him tired.
Narrator/son: "You know dead is like being super tired forever, right?"
Dark? Yes. But genuine, honest, offensive and funny? Also yes. This is only one of a double dozen times I have laughed or smirked unconsciously from reading this book on the subway. People must think I'm 12.
April 11, 2015
To paraphrase two other reviews "it's not for everyone"and "I don't feel like I have to apologize for it" but if this book is for you it will sweep you in quickly and won't let go until you finish the book. Manic, funny and crude my guess is you will either love it or hate it.
March 26, 2015
Best ending in the business, baby.
April 2, 2015
You can tell by the reviews that Matt Sumell's, "Making Nice", isn't for every reader. I, however, absolutely loved it. It's both hilarious and heartbreaking.
Alby is either an extremely unreliable narrator OR, Alby is toooo reliable a narrator; failing to even edit his antics to protect himself from the reader's scorn. In one chapter there are multiple choice questions about the story and in that vein I've created one here:
Characterize the Narrator/Protagonist, Alby:
A. Alby is violent.
B. Alby is hilarious.
C. Alby is self-aware.
D. Alby is delusional.
E. Alby is good-hearted.
F. Alby is having a breakdown.
G. Alby is coping with grief.
H. B and F
I. All of the above
One thing is for sure; Alby is unforgettable. Sumell has created a witty paradox of a character, who has absolutely NO impulse control, yet captures the essence of that particular irritation that happens between siblings. The novel grabbed me at the first sentence and didn't let go. It's a fast-paced read, but readers who are offended by rough language, violence, scatological and graphic sexual detail should be warned.
Alby is either an extremely unreliable narrator OR, Alby is toooo reliable a narrator; failing to even edit his antics to protect himself from the reader's scorn. In one chapter there are multiple choice questions about the story and in that vein I've created one here:
Characterize the Narrator/Protagonist, Alby:
A. Alby is violent.
B. Alby is hilarious.
C. Alby is self-aware.
D. Alby is delusional.
E. Alby is good-hearted.
F. Alby is having a breakdown.
G. Alby is coping with grief.
H. B and F
I. All of the above
One thing is for sure; Alby is unforgettable. Sumell has created a witty paradox of a character, who has absolutely NO impulse control, yet captures the essence of that particular irritation that happens between siblings. The novel grabbed me at the first sentence and didn't let go. It's a fast-paced read, but readers who are offended by rough language, violence, scatological and graphic sexual detail should be warned.
September 21, 2015
I thought that this collection of linked short stories was excellent although perhaps mislabeled as a novel. It put me in mind of Junot Diaz's "This is How You Lose Her" both in tone and subject matter - although written from a different cultural perspective. Sumell's central character Alby is both likeable and immensely dislikable in a similar way to Diaz's Yunior. He is sex obsessed, prone to violent outbursts, a bit of a loser and immensely selfish. However he also shows us his softness and a deep and sometimes volatile love for his family. His grief at losing his mother and (almost) his dog are realistically and powerfully portrayed. His portrayal of a dysfunctional and struggling family was accurate, funny and disturbing. I imagine not everyone will love this book or even like it. I liked it a lot.
October 6, 2015
Interconnected stories in the loose shape of a novel. While the main character is an unabashed asshole - to the point where some of the sexual situations here made me uncomfortable - Sumell writes like a goddamned acrobat, jumping from laugh-out-loud humor to pathos and back in the space of a paragraph. Seriously incredible, and one of the funniest books I've read in years. I could go on and on, but instead I'll say: there's few books that I'd consider giving as a gift to a vast number of people, and as both grim and juvenile as Making Nice might be, it's definitely at the top of the list. Recommended.
April 26, 2016
Like the author himself, this book made me laugh and puke simultaneously. Come for the jerk humor and titty-punches and stay for the description of the rescued bird and all the fucked up and perfect and heart-tugging mother-son and father-son interactions.
April 7, 2015
Crass, funny, heart breaking, realatable.
May 30, 2015
Writing a review for Alternating Current.
June 9, 2015
interesting, funny, and grotesque story of what happens when dooshbags go through the grieving process. it aint pretty, but it is pretty insightful, leer-inducing, and talented.
June 18, 2017
Sumell is ruthlessly loveable. His fiction is, too.
Read
April 21, 2015A good gut punch.
August 14, 2017
Oh boy, that one was a rough one for me. Alby was a hard guy to like at all and I do really need a connection with a character to really get into the book. He had some moments where I could see what a good person he could be...his love for animals being really important. And his love for his family too. But there just wasn't as much growth through the book to show that he was working toward being a better person. Overall, not the book for me.
April 14, 2015
Memorable Tales About a Most Compelling Loser
Alby, the main protagonist in Matt Sumell’s “Making Nice” isn’t someone you’d find mentioned favorably in the Bernie Taupin lyrics of an Elton John song; he’s far from the admirable, blinded Vietnam War veteran named in “Daniel” or the saintly John Lennon in “Empty Garden”. He’s the annoying, irritating, compulsive teenaged punk you might remember from your adolescence; someone with absolutely no redeeming virtues, period. Yet in this terse collection of interconnected short stories – or if you prefer, a novel consisting of short stories – Matt Sumell has created one of the most compelling characters in recent mainstream literary fiction; indeed someone to be compared favorably with characters as memorable as Holden Caulfield in J. D. Salinger’s “Catcher in the Rye” or Huckleberry Finn and Tom Sawyer in Mark Twain’s great fiction. Tales that are told compellingly in first person narration from Alby’s perspective, emphasizing the author’s talents in memorable storytelling and crafting fine prose. What distinguishes Sumell from his peers in these memorable tales about family, love and grief, is his exceptional skill in making a character as dislikable as Alby someone you’d want to be rooting for, willing to ignore his drunkenness, his boorish sexual behavior towards girls and women, and his uncanny ability for getting himself into trouble, simply because he is acting out his grief over the untimely death of his beloved mother. Sumell introduces us to a suburban Long Island, New York as memorable as the Connecticut suburbs described by Rick Moody in much of his early fiction, or the New York City depicted in the fiction of writers as diverse as Jimmy Breslin, Scott Cheshire, Peter Hamill, Mark Helprin and Eleanor Henderson. Regardless of whether “Making Nice” is a short story collection or novel, it nonetheless represents the arrival of a noteworthy young talented writer of American fiction; Matt Sumell. Without question, “Making Nice” is one of the most notable works of fiction published this year, not least because of its memorable fictional portraits of Alby, someone you want to hate, but can’t.
Alby, the main protagonist in Matt Sumell’s “Making Nice” isn’t someone you’d find mentioned favorably in the Bernie Taupin lyrics of an Elton John song; he’s far from the admirable, blinded Vietnam War veteran named in “Daniel” or the saintly John Lennon in “Empty Garden”. He’s the annoying, irritating, compulsive teenaged punk you might remember from your adolescence; someone with absolutely no redeeming virtues, period. Yet in this terse collection of interconnected short stories – or if you prefer, a novel consisting of short stories – Matt Sumell has created one of the most compelling characters in recent mainstream literary fiction; indeed someone to be compared favorably with characters as memorable as Holden Caulfield in J. D. Salinger’s “Catcher in the Rye” or Huckleberry Finn and Tom Sawyer in Mark Twain’s great fiction. Tales that are told compellingly in first person narration from Alby’s perspective, emphasizing the author’s talents in memorable storytelling and crafting fine prose. What distinguishes Sumell from his peers in these memorable tales about family, love and grief, is his exceptional skill in making a character as dislikable as Alby someone you’d want to be rooting for, willing to ignore his drunkenness, his boorish sexual behavior towards girls and women, and his uncanny ability for getting himself into trouble, simply because he is acting out his grief over the untimely death of his beloved mother. Sumell introduces us to a suburban Long Island, New York as memorable as the Connecticut suburbs described by Rick Moody in much of his early fiction, or the New York City depicted in the fiction of writers as diverse as Jimmy Breslin, Scott Cheshire, Peter Hamill, Mark Helprin and Eleanor Henderson. Regardless of whether “Making Nice” is a short story collection or novel, it nonetheless represents the arrival of a noteworthy young talented writer of American fiction; Matt Sumell. Without question, “Making Nice” is one of the most notable works of fiction published this year, not least because of its memorable fictional portraits of Alby, someone you want to hate, but can’t.
June 17, 2015
ARC/Fiction: I got this book in return for an honest review. I wish I hadn't and let someone who would have liked it have it instead. I hated it and cannot recommend it.
I was drawn to it because the setting takes place on Long Island. I grew up there and graduated from Babylon, which is mentioned. I should have taken heed when it was a best pick from Entertainment Weekly. I used to read their book reviews. In my opinion, I feel that they skim though a book and look for shock value or pop culture references to make their opinions. This is also a publication that gave Les Paul a two line obituary and I did not renew my subscription after that; but I digress.
The main character of Alby is a walking venereal disease. He is not a lovable loser, but just a loser. He would be a heroin addict, but he is too lazy to do that and it would require some kind of income. Being that he likes to punch people and objects, he could be a pimp. He is always wanting to feed his id and ego. During and after his mother's illness, he is only worried about himself and his feelings. Alby's only redeeming value is his care for small animals. This sympathy for animals is the only thing stopping him from being a serial killer, who start by killing small animals. He has no love for women. Even when he finds out the sickly bird he is caring for is female, Alby still refers to it as Gary. He has unprotected sex and fantasizes about unprotected sex hoping to impregnate the woman, whether he knows their names or not.
I don't think I have ever not liked a book this much in a while. It is 219 pages and cost $24 bucks. If you think you want to read it, check it out from the library.
I was drawn to it because the setting takes place on Long Island. I grew up there and graduated from Babylon, which is mentioned. I should have taken heed when it was a best pick from Entertainment Weekly. I used to read their book reviews. In my opinion, I feel that they skim though a book and look for shock value or pop culture references to make their opinions. This is also a publication that gave Les Paul a two line obituary and I did not renew my subscription after that; but I digress.
The main character of Alby is a walking venereal disease. He is not a lovable loser, but just a loser. He would be a heroin addict, but he is too lazy to do that and it would require some kind of income. Being that he likes to punch people and objects, he could be a pimp. He is always wanting to feed his id and ego. During and after his mother's illness, he is only worried about himself and his feelings. Alby's only redeeming value is his care for small animals. This sympathy for animals is the only thing stopping him from being a serial killer, who start by killing small animals. He has no love for women. Even when he finds out the sickly bird he is caring for is female, Alby still refers to it as Gary. He has unprotected sex and fantasizes about unprotected sex hoping to impregnate the woman, whether he knows their names or not.
I don't think I have ever not liked a book this much in a while. It is 219 pages and cost $24 bucks. If you think you want to read it, check it out from the library.
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