He looks at himself one final time in the glass, sees the tint of white in his hair, then blinks his image away and tries to slash light into the darkness.
"Slashing light into the darkness" is very much the purpose of this book, it seems.
Gods & Angels is a collection of short stories by David Parks, and as such it is hard to give an overview of what exactly it's all about, but if there is one overriding theme it would probably be "relationships between men and other stuff in the universe" - men and women, of course; men and other men; boys and their mothers; science teachers and the stars. Each story isolates a different type of relationship and analyses it very neatly and very cleverly within an approximate span of 20 pages. The subjects dealt with are complicated things, difficult to discuss, tenants of some dark and mysterious district of the human condition, but Park takes it upon himself to slash as much light into all of them as he can.
He doesn't always succeed, but it's clear that he tries his best.
About half of the stories are very poignant, quite unforgettable things, and in general the stories that make up this half are the quirkier ones, the ones boasting unique ideas. Stories like "Learning to Swim", "Gecko", "Old Fool" and, most especially, "Crossing the River", which takes a genius angle on the intersection of work life, personal life and certain death. In these stories Park exhibits his excellence at pinpointing with great accuracy the tiniest emotions, the quietest thoughts, the most real and touching moments that make up our every imperfect day.
But there is another half. The rest of the stories in this collection are boring, quite simply. They don't exactly grip you in the instant of reading them and they fade from the mind fairly quickly when you've put the book down. Nothing happens that we haven't read a thousand times before, in terms of action or emotion, and the "Mr Writer" persona that Park adopts doesn't help - a literary voice that practically screams "I am a scholarly genius with a massive vocabulary", and smothers the real hard-hitting stuff of the stories in obscure showy-off passages better suited to the poorer parts of poetry. Furthermore - and this particularly bothered me - Park appears to have absolutely no idea of what a comma is. One might think this is a small nitpicking point, but when one reads the book it simply can't be missed - sentences go on and on and on and in so jumping from clause to lengthy clause in unabashed abuse of rules of grammar that have long been in place for a reason achieve an unquestionable bafflement on the part of the poor reader who in the absence of a Sherlockian memory ultimately loses track of what the whole sentence ever meant in the first place. This sort of thing should have been quashed at the editor's office, so it's not entirely Parks' fault, but the fact remains - this book is seriously hard to read sometimes, and when your book is work for the reader then the reader is unlikely to look favourably upon it. Here is the proof.
This book is disappointing. Read it, yes, because there is a good bit of very impressive character work here, but since half the stories are worth reading, I would suggest getting it at half the price, and spending the other half of the price on a fine set of pens that can be used to insert appropriate commas as you read.