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Locust House
In his latest work of fiction, Locust House, San Diego-born author Adam Gnade writes about his homeland in the tradition of regionalists like Sherman Alexie and Willa Cather. Gnade’s California is a place of border clash, of a glimpse of stormy sea from a top coastal hills or rollercoasters, of ratty beach apartments and punk shows. A collaborative release by Three One G and Pioneers Press, this is a story that asks, “What does it mean to hold fast to your dreams, ethics, and beliefs while the whole world tries to tame you?”
71 pages, Paperback
Published January 1, 2016
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About the author
Adam Gnade
24 books146 followersAdam Gnade’s (guh nah dee) work is released as a series of books and "talking songs" that share characters and themes; the fiction writing continuing plot-lines left open by the self-described “talking songs” in an attempt to compile a vast, detailed, interconnected, personal history of contemporary American life. His books and "talking records" are released by Bread & Roses Press and Three One G.
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Displaying 1 - 12 of 12 reviews
February 3, 2018
A really great read that totally took me back to my early 20s, but I wish it would have included a larger variety of perspectives (ie. from band members, people who were renting the house, the cops, etc.) Maybe I just wanted it to be longer. Ha, then again, it's concise nature definitely parallels listening to a song from The Locust.
April 10, 2019
Burns hot, fast and beautiful, like a lit match to celluloid.
May 11, 2016
Locust House is a novella-length rumination on a time, a place, and a culture. It’s an impressionistic love letter to San Diego’s fringe music scene, circa 2002. It is beautiful, unsettling, and immersive.
Gnade presents readers with a handful of misfit characters who orbit San Diego's gritty noise-punk milieu and frequent the Locust House—a home-turned-concert venue, rented and operated by the members of The Locust during the early 2000s. Some of these characters know each other, some don’t. However, they’re all drawn to The Locust's extreme, envelope-pushing music. They are propelled by feelings of alienation, deep political convictions, existential angst, and shitty relationships. They desire something raw and extraordinary in a society brimming with flatlining culture and post-9/11 paranoia. These characters, I should mention, are all secondary to the sights, sounds, smells, and ephemeral feelings that are lyrically detailed in the novella.
Gnade deals heavily in fleeting moods, moments, and atmospheres—not so much in conventional story. Don’t start this book anticipating a plot. Don’t go in expecting traditional character development. The characters of Locust House are more the means than the ends.
And it's worth noting that Gnade’s focus on setting and rich sensory details flies right in the face of current literary conventions. For that reason, Locust House was a breath of fresh air.
When done right, I love a good savory ramble. And Gnade pulls it off deftly. The world of Locust House is made entirely palpable for the reader—the frenetic music, the drugs, the dingy apartments, the steaming elotes locos. All of it.
Gnade presents readers with a handful of misfit characters who orbit San Diego's gritty noise-punk milieu and frequent the Locust House—a home-turned-concert venue, rented and operated by the members of The Locust during the early 2000s. Some of these characters know each other, some don’t. However, they’re all drawn to The Locust's extreme, envelope-pushing music. They are propelled by feelings of alienation, deep political convictions, existential angst, and shitty relationships. They desire something raw and extraordinary in a society brimming with flatlining culture and post-9/11 paranoia. These characters, I should mention, are all secondary to the sights, sounds, smells, and ephemeral feelings that are lyrically detailed in the novella.
Gnade deals heavily in fleeting moods, moments, and atmospheres—not so much in conventional story. Don’t start this book anticipating a plot. Don’t go in expecting traditional character development. The characters of Locust House are more the means than the ends.
And it's worth noting that Gnade’s focus on setting and rich sensory details flies right in the face of current literary conventions. For that reason, Locust House was a breath of fresh air.
When done right, I love a good savory ramble. And Gnade pulls it off deftly. The world of Locust House is made entirely palpable for the reader—the frenetic music, the drugs, the dingy apartments, the steaming elotes locos. All of it.
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January 15, 2022This book exemplified everything I loved about growing up with show spaces, The Locust (discovering that extension of punk and chaos that they and others created), and trying to figure out your life (or, in some cases, knowing exactly where it's going). It was quick read, but for good reasons. Much like those shows and that music, I didn't come out unscathed after reading this. And that's a compliment.
October 18, 2018
"The crowd pushed. Agnes pushed back." There are the last two sentences of the novella and they totally encapsulate the themes of this book. I miss seeing these bands play.
March 11, 2022
Where the turf meets the mirth, just up the corner where E Street crosses E Street.
June 15, 2022
Like a Locust song this book is concise and neatly packed into a small package. A quick read but full of excitement and urgency throughout.
May 23, 2022
I love everything Adam Gnade writes-especially a book about a house show in freakin' Golden Hill. Just--wow. He captures that overconfidence we all have as teens/young 20s that our friendships and community will surely last forever. Those parties and house shows we think are endless but are in reality so limited in number. Being 23 and away from all my college friends and my own beloved house show venue for the first time this year-this especially hit close to home.
December 30, 2022
Big punk feelings coming up on this one. Adam captures a sad but sweet narrative of a young girl in mourning. And twists the meanderings thoughts of young folks growing older but becoming maybe both more and less reckless. Grilled Corn with Cotija and Butter garnished emphasis on companionship, giving, and accountability (likely a minor prelude to the follow-up "After Tonight Everything Will be Different"), the truly unforgettable vomit-in-the-mouth reminder of MD 2020 and sweltering hot Carlo Rossi, the ruthlessness of the pit, the overwhelming smell of body odor and cigarettes mixed with beer becoming stale and sticky on the floor. Two places in this book hit home hard for me.
One: "We wanted punk rock but our version didn't sound like a band. It wasn't two guitars, bass, singer, drums. We wanted a sound that tore itself to pieces but did it SMART. We wanted grindcore turned inside out and sped up and then chopped to pieces by a machete the size of the universe. We wanted power violence with a big, loving heart and good ethics to match. We wanted punk you could DANCE to and never feel awkward or uncool or out of place." This segment totally encapsulates all of the sensations that come up for me when I think about what *punk* means as a member of the church of the reformed: punk is a feeling, punk is ethics, punk is hard af but compassionate and empathetic, educated and without judgment, punk is just a word to try to describe something indescribable. Plenty of would-be punk bands flex the punk word but don't have any of the heart to back it up.
Two: "Agnes pushed back." That's a hell of a line to close a book with. The pit is the absurd universe. It's scary and violent but also nurturing by also brutal and it pushes you all around without reason. You've just gotta fucking push back and lean into it. Oh, and laugh.
So charming as always. Do yrself a favor and buy all of Adam's books.
One: "We wanted punk rock but our version didn't sound like a band. It wasn't two guitars, bass, singer, drums. We wanted a sound that tore itself to pieces but did it SMART. We wanted grindcore turned inside out and sped up and then chopped to pieces by a machete the size of the universe. We wanted power violence with a big, loving heart and good ethics to match. We wanted punk you could DANCE to and never feel awkward or uncool or out of place." This segment totally encapsulates all of the sensations that come up for me when I think about what *punk* means as a member of the church of the reformed: punk is a feeling, punk is ethics, punk is hard af but compassionate and empathetic, educated and without judgment, punk is just a word to try to describe something indescribable. Plenty of would-be punk bands flex the punk word but don't have any of the heart to back it up.
Two: "Agnes pushed back." That's a hell of a line to close a book with. The pit is the absurd universe. It's scary and violent but also nurturing by also brutal and it pushes you all around without reason. You've just gotta fucking push back and lean into it. Oh, and laugh.
So charming as always. Do yrself a favor and buy all of Adam's books.
October 27, 2016
A few things about this book:
1) I read it in one sitting. It's that kind of book. And yes, it's a novella so it isn't overly lengthy at all, but mostly that's convenient because it's paced like one big breath so it's a story you want all at once regardless of how many pages it takes up.
2) At some point in your life it is likely that you were in your late teens/early twenties. (Or you are not there yet which is okay and the book is good no matter how old you are but it will likely feel different to you and hit a little deeper if you have already passed through and survived your earliest years of adulthood.) Anyway... at some point you, the reader, were a fledgling grup and lived somewhere and knew people and listened to bands that were absolutely everything in your life. And stuff was hard, because growing up is, but it was also somehow a little okay in all its screwed-up-ness because you had a place and a time and it was uniquely yours. This book is about that time. And it's someone else's story but that's okay because that feeling is perhaps somewhat universal and when you're done reading it you'll exhale and wonder how long since you took your last breath and where that one person ended up and where that album is and why anything ever had to change...
3) So read it and stuff. Adam's other writing is equally feel-inducing and worth owning.
#adamgnade #locusthouse
1) I read it in one sitting. It's that kind of book. And yes, it's a novella so it isn't overly lengthy at all, but mostly that's convenient because it's paced like one big breath so it's a story you want all at once regardless of how many pages it takes up.
2) At some point in your life it is likely that you were in your late teens/early twenties. (Or you are not there yet which is okay and the book is good no matter how old you are but it will likely feel different to you and hit a little deeper if you have already passed through and survived your earliest years of adulthood.) Anyway... at some point you, the reader, were a fledgling grup and lived somewhere and knew people and listened to bands that were absolutely everything in your life. And stuff was hard, because growing up is, but it was also somehow a little okay in all its screwed-up-ness because you had a place and a time and it was uniquely yours. This book is about that time. And it's someone else's story but that's okay because that feeling is perhaps somewhat universal and when you're done reading it you'll exhale and wonder how long since you took your last breath and where that one person ended up and where that album is and why anything ever had to change...
3) So read it and stuff. Adam's other writing is equally feel-inducing and worth owning.
#adamgnade #locusthouse
December 18, 2016
I was lucky enough to read this book prior to its release, because Adam asked me to write a blurb for it. Here's what I wrote:
"Locust House reads like James Joyce and E. Annie Proulx had a lovechild and dropped him into the punk scene of early ‘00s San Diego, and then 15 years later he wrote a novella. Adam Gnade has managed to pack more energy, story, and feeling into this novella than you will find in most full-length novels. It’s as though he’s written the literary equivalent of the 45-second songs he mentions in the book. It’ll fuck you up like the best music, and like the best music, it’ll haunt you long after you read the final sentence."
"Locust House reads like James Joyce and E. Annie Proulx had a lovechild and dropped him into the punk scene of early ‘00s San Diego, and then 15 years later he wrote a novella. Adam Gnade has managed to pack more energy, story, and feeling into this novella than you will find in most full-length novels. It’s as though he’s written the literary equivalent of the 45-second songs he mentions in the book. It’ll fuck you up like the best music, and like the best music, it’ll haunt you long after you read the final sentence."
October 28, 2016
Locust House hits fast and hits hard. It lights up the weirdcore receptors like a couch fire smacked with gasoline. It's almost horrifying. It's peering over the edge. It's punk but grown up, espousing hindsight (nostalgia is too goopy a word; Adam Gnade channels more of a time-tempered empathy) into the abrupt nexus of Golden Hill, San Diego, 2002. Locust House is a crossroads. It's a point of departure. It's a haunted fucking mansion and these are its ghosts. You may well be one, too.
Displaying 1 - 12 of 12 reviews