A, as in almanac for the dead but still dreaming. B, as in bestiary for the broken and the brave. C, as in crisis, catharsis, or conclusion: the cosmological fate of us all and how we choose to end things. Offering up an eclectic landscape of language experiments, patches of surrealism, and more traditional tales, POSTLUDES spans the style spectrum from A-Z, analog to digital, and heartbreak to hope in its earnest and empathetic variations on the theme of finality and The End.
If you enjoy short story collections of magical realism and just weird fiction, this is the perfect book for you. The length is perfect, ensuring these wonderful stories don't overstay their welcome.
This book is often strange and unsettling, but it’s got a lot of heart underneath the weirdness. I know Matthew, at least through the Internet, and I’m so grateful for that heart.
No one writes about the unbearable, the unspeakable, the unthinkable, quite like Matthew Burnside. The stories in his 2017 collection Postludes - at least a few of which seem to connect loosely to his more recent Wiki of Infinite Sorrows - both for KERNPUNKT Press - effect a kind of sustained atmosphere of being punched in the gut - a slow, hand-over-hand elongation of the intestinal tract that, every few pages, quietly adds another loop or hitch or twist, such that by the end you're so tangled up with emotion that you can barely decide what to cry about (though you definitely will cry at some point). But rest assured, it's not all doom and gloom. That's only half the equation (ok, maybe more like 3/4 of the equation). For where Burnside's work really shines is in the final turn - that moment where he snaps his fingers like some mournful, wandering magician, and all at once the knots untie themselves, and allow you to once again draw grateful breath through a hopeful heart.
So, if all that didn't make it clear, this deceptively slim volume can make for some very tough sledding. "Rules to Win the Game" operates through the warping-in-real-time minds of a family of abused children - their fears, their fantasies, their half-remembered and half-understood traumas - exploring their fight for survival through the first, formative stages of what will surely grow into lifelong coping mechanisms. "Cosmonauts/Nots/Knots" revolves around grieving parents, adrift in a dark and boundless universe of sorrow, flailing for a spaceport of call at a time when even the assurances of light and gravity have seemingly abandoned them. "Bestiary" is set in a ward for mentally unstable sex offenders, tracing their daily routines behind institutional walls where no matter how rehabilitated they might come to feel in the eyes of their caretakers, their remains a pervasive certainty that the outside world will never see them that way. No one story in this book takes more than a few minutes to read, but each bears the agonizing weight of hours, and the promise of tragedy that unfurls itself across a lifetime.
Stitched together via brutalist Lego architecture, revisionist fairytale iconography, and a devastatingly economical command of poetic language, Burnside has crafted one of the most harrowing collections of short fiction in recent memory. The threat of stolen innocence; the possibility of lives destroyed in an eyeblink; the very real consideration of suicide; these things lurk around every corner in Postludes' compact little tales - each one a grimly imagistic postcard from the edge. But at the end of every black rainbow, there is a glimmer of something golden - a lucky penny to hold onto - a tiny key to a kinder world. Matthew Burnside isn't here just to bring us down - in 2022 we, as a species, have no trouble doing that for ourselves, thank you very much. Instead, what he offers is a kind of respite; a kind of grace. A reminder that no matter how hard things get, they can always get harder, and that even when they're at their hardest, there is always a way through; a reminder to keep our eyes and ears and hearts open; a reminder to keep breathing.
This is a great collection of short fiction, with a great sense of humour and of humanity. The stories range from the rather experimental to much more conventional, but each is engaging and occasionally quite heart-warming, with comic touches that verge on the darker side of things. Longer pieces, such as Rules to Win the Game, and the closer Bestiary, are well contructed short stories, with the latter peppered with odd references, comments, and quotes as its unconventional structure jumps back and forth. I found this last piece in particular to be very strong, and its structure of being told in very short sections made it a genuine page turner, in a very real sense. Altogether, a series of very strong, funny, engaging stories, from a writer with a genuine sense of poetic language.
Imagine a world of tattered dolls, drunken villains, toddlers who are also superheroes, sparking galaxies, life-or-death games, and masturbating poets ripped apart and then pasted back together in a cacophonous collage of tragedy and beauty, delights and horrors, and you might get somewhere close to imagining this book. A polyphony of ringing, full-throated prose, Postludes will leave you disturbed, enchanted, and thoroughly dazzled. Matthew Burnside is a dark wizard capable of summoning the most astounding of magics.
Matthew Burnside's Postludes is clever in the best sense of the word, shrewdly observant and often surprising. I found myself going back to re-read a story or a sentence to enjoy it all over again. The whole book is wonderful, but I was especially drawn to the fractured realities that make up the section entitled "Bestiary." This is a book to keep close at hand and revisited often.
Immediately the title grabbed me-- we're familiar with preludes and interludes from theater and music, but what is a postlude? And why are the postludes inbetween stories? What do they come after? What do they extend or conclude?
The postludes were my favorite part of this nonlinear narrative as they seem like sketches for stories to be later fleshed out: "There is the story of the staircase found under the baby's tongue. The story of the tiny people who opt instead for the elevator in his left eardrum." They are passages, escapes, labyrinths.