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The Pugilist at Rest: Stories
Thom Jones made his literary debut in The New Yorker in 1991. Within six months his stories appeared in Harper's, Esquire, Mirabella, Story, Buzz, and in The New Yorker twice more. "The Pugilist at Rest" - the title story from this stunning collection - took first place in Prize Stories 1993: The O. Henry Awards and was selected for inclusion in Best American Short Stories 1992. He is a writer of astonishing talent. Jones's stories - whether set in the combat zones of Vietnam or the brittle social and intellectual milieu of an elite New England college, whether recounting the poignant last battles of an alcoholic ex-fighter or the hallucinatory visions of an American wandering lost in Bombay in the aftermath of an epileptic fugue - are fueled by an almost brutal vision of the human condition, in a world without mercy or redemption. Physically battered, soul-sick, and morally exhausted, Jones's characters are yet unable to concede defeat: his stories are infused with the improbable grace of the spirit that ought to collapse, but cannot. For in these extraordinary pieces of fiction, it is not goodness that finally redeems us, but the heart's illogical resilience, and the ennobling tenacity with which we cling to each other and to our lives. The publication of The Pugilist at Rest is a major literary event, heralding the arrival of an electrifying new voice in American fiction, and a writer of magnificent depth and range. With these eleven stories, Thom Jones takes his place among the ranks of this country's most important authors.
230 pages, Kindle Edition
First published June 7, 1993
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About the author
Thom Jones
28 books117 followersThom Jones (born January 26, 1945) was an American writer, primarily of short stories.
Jones was raised in Aurora, Illinois, and attended the University of Hawaii, where he played catcher on the baseball team. He later attended the University of Washington, from which he graduated in 1970, and the Iowa Writers' Workshop at the University of Iowa, from which he received an M.F.A. in 1973.
Jones trained in Force Reconnaissance in the Marine Corps but was discharged before his unit was sent to Vietnam. This and other personal experiences, including the suicide of his boxer father in a mental institution, have become important sources of material for his fiction. After graduation from college, he worked as a copywriter for a Chicago advertising agency and later as a janitor, all the while reading and writing for hours each day. He was "discovered" well into his forties by the fiction editors of The New Yorker, who published a series of his stories in the early 1990s, including "The Pugilist at Rest", which won an O. Henry Award.
Jones resided in Olympia, Washington. He had temporal lobe epilepsy and suffered from diabetes.
In 1973, Jones published an animal-fantasy allegory in the dystopian George Orwell mode titled "Brother Dodo's Revenge" in The Magazine of Fantasy and Science Fiction.
His first book, published in 1993, was the short-story collection The Pugilist at Rest. The stories deal with common themes of mortality and pain, with characters that often find a kind of solace in the rather pessimistic philosophy of Schopenhauer. Boxing, absent or mentally ill fathers, physical trauma and the Vietnam War are also recurring motifs. The collection was a National Book Award finalist. Jones' other two collections of short stories include Cold Snap (1995) and Sonny Liston Was a Friend of Mine (1999).
His story "Night Train," which originally appeared in the magazine Tin House, was included in The Best American Nonrequired Reading 2004. A humorous essay, "Easter Island Noodles Almondine," about time Jones spent as a youth working for the General Mills plant in Aurora, Illinois, appeared in an issue of Granta focused on Chicago, published in 2009. And "Bomb Shelter Noel," a story about a diabetic girl, was published in the January 2011 issue of Playboy.
Reports have appeared stating Jones wrote scripts for feature films, including a Vietnam screenplay for Cheyenne Enterprises, and an adaptation of Larry Brown's novel, The Rabbit Factory, for Ithaka Films.
John Updike in a Salon.com interview praised Jones as one of two writers of a younger generation he admired, and Updike included Jones' story, "I Want To Live!", in the anthology The Best American Short Stories of the Century.
Jones was raised in Aurora, Illinois, and attended the University of Hawaii, where he played catcher on the baseball team. He later attended the University of Washington, from which he graduated in 1970, and the Iowa Writers' Workshop at the University of Iowa, from which he received an M.F.A. in 1973.
Jones trained in Force Reconnaissance in the Marine Corps but was discharged before his unit was sent to Vietnam. This and other personal experiences, including the suicide of his boxer father in a mental institution, have become important sources of material for his fiction. After graduation from college, he worked as a copywriter for a Chicago advertising agency and later as a janitor, all the while reading and writing for hours each day. He was "discovered" well into his forties by the fiction editors of The New Yorker, who published a series of his stories in the early 1990s, including "The Pugilist at Rest", which won an O. Henry Award.
Jones resided in Olympia, Washington. He had temporal lobe epilepsy and suffered from diabetes.
In 1973, Jones published an animal-fantasy allegory in the dystopian George Orwell mode titled "Brother Dodo's Revenge" in The Magazine of Fantasy and Science Fiction.
His first book, published in 1993, was the short-story collection The Pugilist at Rest. The stories deal with common themes of mortality and pain, with characters that often find a kind of solace in the rather pessimistic philosophy of Schopenhauer. Boxing, absent or mentally ill fathers, physical trauma and the Vietnam War are also recurring motifs. The collection was a National Book Award finalist. Jones' other two collections of short stories include Cold Snap (1995) and Sonny Liston Was a Friend of Mine (1999).
His story "Night Train," which originally appeared in the magazine Tin House, was included in The Best American Nonrequired Reading 2004. A humorous essay, "Easter Island Noodles Almondine," about time Jones spent as a youth working for the General Mills plant in Aurora, Illinois, appeared in an issue of Granta focused on Chicago, published in 2009. And "Bomb Shelter Noel," a story about a diabetic girl, was published in the January 2011 issue of Playboy.
Reports have appeared stating Jones wrote scripts for feature films, including a Vietnam screenplay for Cheyenne Enterprises, and an adaptation of Larry Brown's novel, The Rabbit Factory, for Ithaka Films.
John Updike in a Salon.com interview praised Jones as one of two writers of a younger generation he admired, and Updike included Jones' story, "I Want To Live!", in the anthology The Best American Short Stories of the Century.
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June 27, 2023
There are many relevant allusions to art, philosophy and literature but whatever story Thom Jones writes, he explores three subjects:
The first subject is violence…
The second subject is madness…
The third subject is violence and madness put together…
And all three themes are united with the persistent mania of self-distraction…
Live fast, die young and leave a good-looking corpse…
Live faster…
The first subject is violence…
Jensen moved in and started bouncing his fists off Baggit's head. Baggit rushed forward with his forehead and the two men collided heads. It sounded like two bowling balls clanking together, and now Jensen stalled. It seemed that Baggit was going to kick him, but then he walked by and went over to hold on to a bamboo post that supported a little porch in the front of the hootch. Choking, Jensen got up and removed his soaked fatigue shirt and dropped it to the ground as if it was too heavy to fight in.
The second subject is madness…
I visited him right after my tour as a Marine in Vietnam and I remember that ward. The smell of urine, the awful noise and tension, and the violent insane people prowling the ward like great white sharks in frenzied, bloody waters. In fact, the craziness there was a lot like what I had seen in Vietnam. It was intense, psychedelic craziness.
The third subject is violence and madness put together…
He had barricaded himself for fourteen hours in a Salinas, California, beauty parlor with his estranged old lady before he shot her and shot himself. When the police got inside and found the bodies, a bag of heroin, narcotics paraphernalia, and a blood-stained Medal of Honor, Jim Morrison of the Doors was singing ‘The End’ on Mrs. Baggit's radio, the article said. It was July 9, 1971, the day James Douglas Morrison's death had been revealed to the world and all you could hear on the radio waves were the Doors. Morrison had already been buried in the ‘Poet's Corner’ of the Pere-Lachaise Cemetery in Paris. I remember that day far more clearly than the day Kennedy was shot, when I was a shavetail private just out of boot camp, and really didn't have a clue about life.
And all three themes are united with the persistent mania of self-distraction…
Live fast, die young and leave a good-looking corpse…
Live faster…
June 27, 2025
IL MONDO COME VOLONTÀ E RAPPRESENTAZIONE
Nell’America di Thom Jones (un acca da non trascurare) chi non è sotto le armi (Vietnam, marine, Seal e affini) è in manicomio (depressi, maniaci, schizofrenici, violenti e affini).
E comunque, tra l’istituzione militare e quella psichiatrica c’è osmosi fluida, l’una nutre l’altra e viceversa.
I pochi che non rientrano in questo schema sono probabilmente da qualche parte a spappolarsi il fegato con il bourbon (vodka, gin, tequila…) o a massacrarsi di botte (risse, boxe, scazzottate…).
Dimenticavo, c’è un’altra categoria umana che popola questi racconti: i deficienti. Non i minus habens in senso letterale, i mentecatti per intenderci.
Sembrano tutti orfani dei cowboy.
Un mondo popolato di maschi, prima che uomini, con testosterone a go go.
Anche steroidi.
Raccontato da un signore che sembra molto pensare sentire e credere ho visto cose che voi umani non potreste immaginarvi….
Poi c’è un Reader’s Digest che va da Dostoevskij a Kant a Schopenhauer, citati e scomodati senza pietà.
È comunque innegabile che avere fatto i mestieri di cui si parla, il marine, il pugile, il bidello, aiuta la narrazione, sparge verità che si apprezza, pure se offerta in un linguaggio che ho trovato definito in modo calzante e spiritoso “da porto d’armi”.
Infatti, quando il personaggio fa qualcos’altro, che so, tipo il medico, il chirurgo, si ha la netta sensazione che prima di prendere in mano il bisturi abbia appena posato l’M16 o sfilato i guantoni.
Per Thom Jones sembra valere quello che Carver disse di sé: Per dire le cose come stavano, ci è mancato poco che non ci rimettessi la pelle.
Ma poi, proprio quando stavo per gettare la spugna (tanto per restare in tema pugilistico), ecco che il nono racconto è una sorpresa, uno straziante stupore di intensa bellezza – è quello che Updike ha inserito nell'antologia dei migliori racconti americani del secolo scorso, il racconto della morte in vita di una donna malata terminale di tumore, il diario di una fine atroce, passo dopo passo
(Perdeva i sensi e poi ritornava in sé. Avanti e indietro. Dentro e fuori. Faceva avanti e indietro. Dentro e fuori. Avanti e indietro…dentro e fuori. Non ci fu nessun tunnel, nessuna luce bianca, niente del genere. Morì, semplicemente.)
Tutte queste immagini provengono dallo stesso magnifico film, “Fat City – Città amara” di John Huston, 1972. Qui il Maestro mostra al protagonista Stacy Keach come portare un colpo. Jeff Bridges è l’altro protagonista.
Nell’America di Thom Jones (un acca da non trascurare) chi non è sotto le armi (Vietnam, marine, Seal e affini) è in manicomio (depressi, maniaci, schizofrenici, violenti e affini).
E comunque, tra l’istituzione militare e quella psichiatrica c’è osmosi fluida, l’una nutre l’altra e viceversa.
I pochi che non rientrano in questo schema sono probabilmente da qualche parte a spappolarsi il fegato con il bourbon (vodka, gin, tequila…) o a massacrarsi di botte (risse, boxe, scazzottate…).
Dimenticavo, c’è un’altra categoria umana che popola questi racconti: i deficienti. Non i minus habens in senso letterale, i mentecatti per intenderci.
Sembrano tutti orfani dei cowboy.
Un mondo popolato di maschi, prima che uomini, con testosterone a go go.
Anche steroidi.
Raccontato da un signore che sembra molto pensare sentire e credere ho visto cose che voi umani non potreste immaginarvi….
Poi c’è un Reader’s Digest che va da Dostoevskij a Kant a Schopenhauer, citati e scomodati senza pietà.
È comunque innegabile che avere fatto i mestieri di cui si parla, il marine, il pugile, il bidello, aiuta la narrazione, sparge verità che si apprezza, pure se offerta in un linguaggio che ho trovato definito in modo calzante e spiritoso “da porto d’armi”.
Infatti, quando il personaggio fa qualcos’altro, che so, tipo il medico, il chirurgo, si ha la netta sensazione che prima di prendere in mano il bisturi abbia appena posato l’M16 o sfilato i guantoni.
Per Thom Jones sembra valere quello che Carver disse di sé: Per dire le cose come stavano, ci è mancato poco che non ci rimettessi la pelle.
Ma poi, proprio quando stavo per gettare la spugna (tanto per restare in tema pugilistico), ecco che il nono racconto è una sorpresa, uno straziante stupore di intensa bellezza – è quello che Updike ha inserito nell'antologia dei migliori racconti americani del secolo scorso, il racconto della morte in vita di una donna malata terminale di tumore, il diario di una fine atroce, passo dopo passo
(Perdeva i sensi e poi ritornava in sé. Avanti e indietro. Dentro e fuori. Faceva avanti e indietro. Dentro e fuori. Avanti e indietro…dentro e fuori. Non ci fu nessun tunnel, nessuna luce bianca, niente del genere. Morì, semplicemente.)
Tutte queste immagini provengono dallo stesso magnifico film, “Fat City – Città amara” di John Huston, 1972. Qui il Maestro mostra al protagonista Stacy Keach come portare un colpo. Jeff Bridges è l’altro protagonista.
June 29, 2024
Reading Thom Jones is like watching magnesium foil burn. It's just spectacular. His street wise prose are a delight, smart and erudite. It's the 4th time I've read this and it gets better every time. The Black Lights is one of my favourite short stories ever and it's not necessarily the best story in The Pugilist at Rest . Thom Jones only wrote 3 books, all short stories and his brilliance continues to burn brightly . I'd give it 7 stars if I could.
Is Thom Jones my favourite author? He's definitely in the mix.
Is Thom Jones my favourite author? He's definitely in the mix.
August 11, 2016
I hate these fucking stars. I enjoyed this book a lot, but I just get so stressed-out trying to quantify that. These stories were about boxers (men and dogs), marines, sex, gender, and traumatic brain injury. What's not to like? Good question: the philosophy stuff. Sometimes all the philosophers and manliness tropes made me feel annoyed and bored, and this book reminded me of that tiresome guy on a motorcycle with a pack of Camel straights in his shirtsleeve, who's just trying way too painfully hard. But then the cool thing was that this book actually seemed to know that about itself. I really like books that are self-consciously about masculinity, and The Pugilist at Rest was nothing if not one of those. But I kind of feel like I can't rate it higher than the Mary Gaitskill I just read, because her sentences were so beautiful and the prose here was just really... er, yeah, sorry: prosaic.
What this book reminds me of is a journeyman boxer who will never be the greatest, but who puts up a good fight and is consistently fun to watch. His punches aren't magical, but he can land them solid, and he's got a limited number of patented combinations (e.g., Vietnam, boxing, epilepsy; alcoholism, boxing, Nietzsche), which he delivers with panache.
Ultimately this book didn't knock me out or anything, but two thirds of me was really into it so I'm giving it four stars (split decision).
What this book reminds me of is a journeyman boxer who will never be the greatest, but who puts up a good fight and is consistently fun to watch. His punches aren't magical, but he can land them solid, and he's got a limited number of patented combinations (e.g., Vietnam, boxing, epilepsy; alcoholism, boxing, Nietzsche), which he delivers with panache.
Ultimately this book didn't knock me out or anything, but two thirds of me was really into it so I'm giving it four stars (split decision).
July 8, 2021
As I've said before, I have a short list of guys I admire and want to emulate when it comes to writing. Thom Jones is undoubtedly one of them.
My feelings on 'The Pugilist at Rest' are pretty much the same as how I felt about Thom's other short story collection 'Sonny Liston Was a Friend of Mine'. Jones is a craftsman, his words are hard and unflinching, yet refined. His prose is unusually powerful. In short, they are the writings of a master. This collection reads like an act of desperation sometimes, drawing readers into a world where the stakes are high and the payoffs low, stories about people who fight because they live to fight, or because it is all they know. I loved the raw masculinity of this work, the blunt and sometimes sensitive tales of men weathered on the rough edges of a tough world.
Most of the stories boil down to boxing, war, insanity, and the various people immersed in those worlds. While effective and engaging, I found myself wanting more variation instead of the redundancy I felt I was getting toward the end of the book. I guess there are only so many stories about boxers I can take in one collection.
Also, there were some philosophical moments in these pages that felt out of place or forced, characters who recollected the wisdom of some of the world's greatest thinkers almost on a whim. These moments felt like speed bumps to me, sometimes unrealistic when compared to the characters and content of the stories.
Regardless, Thom Jones is a must-read author and 'The Pugilist at Rest' is a must-read book, particularly if you have any stake in the writing craft.
My feelings on 'The Pugilist at Rest' are pretty much the same as how I felt about Thom's other short story collection 'Sonny Liston Was a Friend of Mine'. Jones is a craftsman, his words are hard and unflinching, yet refined. His prose is unusually powerful. In short, they are the writings of a master. This collection reads like an act of desperation sometimes, drawing readers into a world where the stakes are high and the payoffs low, stories about people who fight because they live to fight, or because it is all they know. I loved the raw masculinity of this work, the blunt and sometimes sensitive tales of men weathered on the rough edges of a tough world.
Most of the stories boil down to boxing, war, insanity, and the various people immersed in those worlds. While effective and engaging, I found myself wanting more variation instead of the redundancy I felt I was getting toward the end of the book. I guess there are only so many stories about boxers I can take in one collection.
Also, there were some philosophical moments in these pages that felt out of place or forced, characters who recollected the wisdom of some of the world's greatest thinkers almost on a whim. These moments felt like speed bumps to me, sometimes unrealistic when compared to the characters and content of the stories.
Regardless, Thom Jones is a must-read author and 'The Pugilist at Rest' is a must-read book, particularly if you have any stake in the writing craft.
September 7, 2007
thom brown's books will grab you by the fucking throat and throttle you until you put the thing down. i'm constantly amazed at how powerful and visceral his stories are. and that's not their only appeal -- powerful scenes do not alone make great stories. these are stories that are not necessarily traditional in their structure, or in how the epiphanies unfold. but the end justifies the means.
i believe this is his greatest collection, but that's not to say that 'cold snap' or 'sonny liston...' are not incredible -- they are. i'm always bummed by the fact that jones' books are few and far between, but if this is the caliber of work that comes from the years of respite, then i'm ok with waiting.
i believe this is his greatest collection, but that's not to say that 'cold snap' or 'sonny liston...' are not incredible -- they are. i'm always bummed by the fact that jones' books are few and far between, but if this is the caliber of work that comes from the years of respite, then i'm ok with waiting.
December 2, 2019
Somehow there's another book with this exact same title. I can't imagine it being as good as this one though. Thom Jones is one the greatest writers to ever live. Every story is a classic!
June 11, 2020
The Pugilist At Rest by Thom Jones
Hey Baby got caught writing a letter to his girl when he was supposed to be taking notes on the specs of the M-14 rifle. We were sitting in a stifling hot Quonset hut during the first weeks of boot camp, August 1966, at the Marine Corps Recruit Depot in San Diego. Sergeant Wright snatched the letter out of Hey Baby’s hand, and later that night in the squad bay he read the letter to the Marine recruits of Platoon 263, his voice laden with sarcasm. “Hey Baby!” he began, and then as he went into the body of the letter he worked himself into a state of outrage and disgust.
This book was published in 1993 and is collection of eleven short stories. The themes are often about Vietnam, boxing and testosterone fueled relationships. Five of the stories I found to be fantastic. They are as follows:
1. Pugilist at Rest - A soldier’s story about his recon missions in Vietnam, interspersed with informal boxing matches and the ensuing PTSD that plagues him. One of the best short stories ever written about war.
2. Break on Through - Another war story about a recon mission and the aftermath. In this one, one of the soldiers goes crazy and becomes the focal point of the story.
3. Mosquitoes - A testosterone filled story about a boorish surgeon who visits his brother’s family on the East Coast for a few weeks. Amidst the nagging mosquitoes of New Hampshire he tells his brother to get a divorce from his wife because she treats his brother so badly. The tension mounts and is brought to a head after the surgeon and his sister in-law have a one-night stand.
4. As of July 6th - A man struggles to forgive his stepfather for treating his mother so awfully. Surprisingly introspective.
5. I Want to Live!- This story about terminal cancer is quite gripping. It was selected by John Updike as one of the best 100 American short stories of the 20th century.
Five Stars. This is an extraordinary collection of stories. Hard to believe that this was the janitor-turned-author’s debut book. It garnered several awards.
Hey Baby got caught writing a letter to his girl when he was supposed to be taking notes on the specs of the M-14 rifle. We were sitting in a stifling hot Quonset hut during the first weeks of boot camp, August 1966, at the Marine Corps Recruit Depot in San Diego. Sergeant Wright snatched the letter out of Hey Baby’s hand, and later that night in the squad bay he read the letter to the Marine recruits of Platoon 263, his voice laden with sarcasm. “Hey Baby!” he began, and then as he went into the body of the letter he worked himself into a state of outrage and disgust.
This book was published in 1993 and is collection of eleven short stories. The themes are often about Vietnam, boxing and testosterone fueled relationships. Five of the stories I found to be fantastic. They are as follows:
1. Pugilist at Rest - A soldier’s story about his recon missions in Vietnam, interspersed with informal boxing matches and the ensuing PTSD that plagues him. One of the best short stories ever written about war.
2. Break on Through - Another war story about a recon mission and the aftermath. In this one, one of the soldiers goes crazy and becomes the focal point of the story.
3. Mosquitoes - A testosterone filled story about a boorish surgeon who visits his brother’s family on the East Coast for a few weeks. Amidst the nagging mosquitoes of New Hampshire he tells his brother to get a divorce from his wife because she treats his brother so badly. The tension mounts and is brought to a head after the surgeon and his sister in-law have a one-night stand.
4. As of July 6th - A man struggles to forgive his stepfather for treating his mother so awfully. Surprisingly introspective.
5. I Want to Live!- This story about terminal cancer is quite gripping. It was selected by John Updike as one of the best 100 American short stories of the 20th century.
Five Stars. This is an extraordinary collection of stories. Hard to believe that this was the janitor-turned-author’s debut book. It garnered several awards.
August 31, 2025
The stories that cleared The New Yorker's cobwebs. Like Denis Johnson with added testosterone, Jones's tales of pugs, soldiers and epileptics make falling apart fit together in speedy, addictive prose. 'I Want to Live!' is the best story. Although his later collections impress, they never equal this one.
August 11, 2023
A little thematically monotonous but hey, he’s got a great style. Very visceral and funny descriptions of epilepsy, ‘Nam and boxing. Get it dummy, it says ‘pugilist’ in the title. An old woman with cancer reading Schopenhauer though? Come on now, quit awkwardly shoving a who’s who of random Nietzsche and Schopenhauer quotes into everything.
February 4, 2013
The Kirkus Review says this: "These 11 mostly hard-luck stories, with their mean and nutty existential heroes and their punch-drunk visions of hell, place Jones right among the literary heavyweights. In many of these gritty tales, first-timer Jones displays the peculiar genius of the autodidact--someone who contemplates the great ideas on his own, and tests them against the rawest of everyday experience." I think "mean and nutty" pretty much characterizes the protagonists of all these stories - with the exception of the sweet stouthearted special education janitor of the story "Silhouettes."
The first section, composed of three stories, share Vietnam as a backdrop - but seem less about the war than about the emotional trajectory of human violence and its aftermath. The first two are in country. The third story takes place in the neuropsych ward at Camp Pendleton. One of the astonishing things about these stories is how Jones loads them with references to art and literature (the protagonist always seems to be a reader) in the strangest of settings. But it works - and I liked it. It's odd how many of the stories are named for songs: "Break On Through," "Wipeout," "Unchain My Heart," and Rocket-Man.” I wonder about the others - although I think the story "I Want to Live!" might be a nod to Schopenhauer whose famous line is (inexact, I’m sure): “It is a total contradiction to want to live without wanting to suffer.” Then again, maybe not.
The next sections (not set in Nam) are also filled with the “mean and nutty.” "Wipeout," narrated by a serial seducer, begins with: "I believe in the philosophy of rock 'n' roll. Like, 'If you want to be happy for the rest of your life, don't make a pretty woman your wife.' I mean, who can refute that? Can Immanuel Kant refute that? How can you refute that? I mean really. Any guy knows this is true, even a shallow, superficial guy like me." This story pairs with "Unchain My Heart" about a sex-crazed, highly energetic, female book editor who cannot get enough of the hyper-masculine physique. She meets her lover, a diver, when he "arises from the floor of the ocean" on a platform somewhere on the North Sea because breathing "heavy concentrations of nitrogen [. . .] gives him a hard-on that won't quit." I think I laughed here - because Jones's characterization is too fabulous to believe. Read this: "Stripped down to his bathing suit, Bocassio takes me in his arms and kisses me deeply. He smells of sea salt, tobacco, and musk. Barechested, his muscles are taut, hard and slablike beneath his dark sun-baked skin." It’s interesting that she's a book editor - with an eye for the next big thing - when she finds "a writer with an authentic new voice -- vibrant, powerful, compelling." Hmmm. Thom Jones?
The last story might have been my favorite. “Rocket Man” is basically a conversation between two men – both Marine Corp boxers – one young (and ready to fight) and the other, older and washed-up, is alcoholic and bitter. The young Prestone has come to get his “head” right before taking on a fight – and W.L. Moore is his mentor. Moore tells him: “ In every human breast there is a fund of hatred, anger, envy, rancour and malice, accumulated like the venom in a serpent's tooth, and waiting only for an opportunity of venting itself, and then, to storm and rage like a demon unchained." Somehow, I have a feeling, there's a Kant-Schopenhauer-Shakespeare-and Milton sandwich here. From an alcoholic Marine Corp boxer. I don't know many writers who can pull that off.
The first section, composed of three stories, share Vietnam as a backdrop - but seem less about the war than about the emotional trajectory of human violence and its aftermath. The first two are in country. The third story takes place in the neuropsych ward at Camp Pendleton. One of the astonishing things about these stories is how Jones loads them with references to art and literature (the protagonist always seems to be a reader) in the strangest of settings. But it works - and I liked it. It's odd how many of the stories are named for songs: "Break On Through," "Wipeout," "Unchain My Heart," and Rocket-Man.” I wonder about the others - although I think the story "I Want to Live!" might be a nod to Schopenhauer whose famous line is (inexact, I’m sure): “It is a total contradiction to want to live without wanting to suffer.” Then again, maybe not.
The next sections (not set in Nam) are also filled with the “mean and nutty.” "Wipeout," narrated by a serial seducer, begins with: "I believe in the philosophy of rock 'n' roll. Like, 'If you want to be happy for the rest of your life, don't make a pretty woman your wife.' I mean, who can refute that? Can Immanuel Kant refute that? How can you refute that? I mean really. Any guy knows this is true, even a shallow, superficial guy like me." This story pairs with "Unchain My Heart" about a sex-crazed, highly energetic, female book editor who cannot get enough of the hyper-masculine physique. She meets her lover, a diver, when he "arises from the floor of the ocean" on a platform somewhere on the North Sea because breathing "heavy concentrations of nitrogen [. . .] gives him a hard-on that won't quit." I think I laughed here - because Jones's characterization is too fabulous to believe. Read this: "Stripped down to his bathing suit, Bocassio takes me in his arms and kisses me deeply. He smells of sea salt, tobacco, and musk. Barechested, his muscles are taut, hard and slablike beneath his dark sun-baked skin." It’s interesting that she's a book editor - with an eye for the next big thing - when she finds "a writer with an authentic new voice -- vibrant, powerful, compelling." Hmmm. Thom Jones?
The last story might have been my favorite. “Rocket Man” is basically a conversation between two men – both Marine Corp boxers – one young (and ready to fight) and the other, older and washed-up, is alcoholic and bitter. The young Prestone has come to get his “head” right before taking on a fight – and W.L. Moore is his mentor. Moore tells him: “ In every human breast there is a fund of hatred, anger, envy, rancour and malice, accumulated like the venom in a serpent's tooth, and waiting only for an opportunity of venting itself, and then, to storm and rage like a demon unchained." Somehow, I have a feeling, there's a Kant-Schopenhauer-Shakespeare-and Milton sandwich here. From an alcoholic Marine Corp boxer. I don't know many writers who can pull that off.
October 26, 2024
Amazing, every single story. About people who are looking for existential solitude, clinging to their lifes and loved ones for an answer. It's pretty brutal. Divided in four parts, the first is more of a roman a clef about Jones time in the army and imagining what would have been like. The second and third seem more personal, stuff that happened to him and people close to him, and the fourth part is freer, but still connected with his life. But all of them are tied with the thread of holding for dear life and not giving up, even in death, with analogies of boxing and some philosopher's quotes and ideas. The prose has insane potency and energy. Jones is one of those weird talented writers who get destroyed by addiction and dissapear after doing amazing work.
December 7, 2018
Cerpen2 Thom Jones adalah cerpen2 jantan. Perihal askar, trauma peperangan, jaguh tinju yang uzur, penyakit kanser di waktu tua, kecurangan isteri, skizoforenia, kekasih hiperseks dan kelupaan. Kita direncahkan peluh, luka, tumbukan2 dan kesakitan tubuh badan; dalam suasana miskin, keputusasaan dan melarat. Ini semua diceritakan sebagai takdir hidup yang tak boleh dielak dan perit jalannya.
February 4, 2013
Thom Jones comes at you like great boxers do when they've got you trapped on the ropes, twelfth round, thirty seconds left - full of exhausted fury, shadowy, unpredictable combinations, a swarming, relentless, impossible energy, desperate imagination, feints of all kinds, and the barking, savage voices of those who've felt more than once they were about to die...on the battlefield, in the ring, at three o'clock in the morning twenty years later, trying to figure out how the hell, exactly, am I going to make it through this night.
All eleven stories here deserve to be read (some many times), but, for me, three are indisputably superb. The first, "The Pugilist at Rest" (what a great title!)takes the hero from Marine training to the inferno of Vietnam to Theogenes (yes, Theogenes) to facing brain surgery in hopes of fixing what's broken. Of course he makes us see that what's really needed is soul surgery but, unfortunately, as we all know, even though each one of us is in that primal business the problem is nobody knows how to do it. The main beauty here, formally, is the story's gorgeous structure. Jones puts elements together that shouldn't really work, but do, because of his artistry (in fiction) and richness (in heart).
The second story, "I Want To Live!" follows, in first person, a woman dying from cancer. Again, it shouldn't work, but it does. Her struggle to live is heartbreaking, overwhelmingly human, and as real as it gets. I don't think I'll ever forget her revisited childhood memories, at the end, of the rooster and the decoder ring. Only the best writers can imagine such things - it's why we read them. (John Updike chose this for inclusion in "Best American Short Stories of the Century"; Updike, that elegant and patrician artisan, is not the sort of stylist one would normally associate with Jones - more proof of Jones's power here, I think.)
The third story, "Rocket Man", is an indelible work of art. It purports to be about two boxers, one young and one old, one dying and one just thinking about it, but it's really about the struggle to exist in the face of what we know and the pain that binds us. It's a platonic love story of two men united by the savagery and death-in-lifeness of boxing, and the savagery and life-in-deathness that is life. They're trying, each in his way, to keep the other alive, and the sight of it is a beautiful thing to behold.
When you finish reading this book, you may feel secure in the knowledge that you are not "them", or "him" or "her", and that you are, in fact, ahead on points.
But remember this, what every fighter who ever lived knows to be true - the punch that knocks you out, the one that truly, finally does it...we never get to see that one coming.
All eleven stories here deserve to be read (some many times), but, for me, three are indisputably superb. The first, "The Pugilist at Rest" (what a great title!)takes the hero from Marine training to the inferno of Vietnam to Theogenes (yes, Theogenes) to facing brain surgery in hopes of fixing what's broken. Of course he makes us see that what's really needed is soul surgery but, unfortunately, as we all know, even though each one of us is in that primal business the problem is nobody knows how to do it. The main beauty here, formally, is the story's gorgeous structure. Jones puts elements together that shouldn't really work, but do, because of his artistry (in fiction) and richness (in heart).
The second story, "I Want To Live!" follows, in first person, a woman dying from cancer. Again, it shouldn't work, but it does. Her struggle to live is heartbreaking, overwhelmingly human, and as real as it gets. I don't think I'll ever forget her revisited childhood memories, at the end, of the rooster and the decoder ring. Only the best writers can imagine such things - it's why we read them. (John Updike chose this for inclusion in "Best American Short Stories of the Century"; Updike, that elegant and patrician artisan, is not the sort of stylist one would normally associate with Jones - more proof of Jones's power here, I think.)
The third story, "Rocket Man", is an indelible work of art. It purports to be about two boxers, one young and one old, one dying and one just thinking about it, but it's really about the struggle to exist in the face of what we know and the pain that binds us. It's a platonic love story of two men united by the savagery and death-in-lifeness of boxing, and the savagery and life-in-deathness that is life. They're trying, each in his way, to keep the other alive, and the sight of it is a beautiful thing to behold.
When you finish reading this book, you may feel secure in the knowledge that you are not "them", or "him" or "her", and that you are, in fact, ahead on points.
But remember this, what every fighter who ever lived knows to be true - the punch that knocks you out, the one that truly, finally does it...we never get to see that one coming.
April 12, 2013
Thom Jones has been a Marine, a boxer with over 150 fights, an advertising copywriter and a janitor, so it's no surprise that his first collection of stories is heavily autobiographical. The three Vietnam stories form the meat of the book - the title story is a classic, and the other two near-masterpieces. Sometimes, whenever Jones strays a little distance from his own life story, the results can be entertaining, but one-dimensional. He does, however, deliver a knockout blow in his story of a woman dying of cancer; and the book closes with an account of the last battles of an alcoholic ex-boxer that's so powerful you shut the book wanting to knuckle down and hit the typewriter.
February 9, 2017
This review is only for the title story, “The Pugilist at Rest.” It’s a powerful story of aggressive, masculinity, taken to extreme and as far as the protagonist goes, it’s strikes me as pretty convincing through his experiences as a marine boot camp recruit, combat grunt, and later, marine boxer turned walking wounded. The only fly in the ointment for me was Jorgensen and how he got from where/what he was when we first meet him in boot camp to where/what he was later. Perhaps we can dispense with it in a short story (the omission could not fly in a novel). But still, it stuck in my mind.
December 10, 2013
This is a hard book--not difficult but brutal. Animals seem to provide some of the only glimpses of kindness and humanity--bull dogs, a rooster, a dying horse. Jones does not write women well, that is one flaw in the book. This is true particularly in "Unchain my Heart," a bit less so in the other "I Want to Live!" Jones is a good writer but the whole book is an exercise in demonstrating stereotypical manliness. But it is a good solid book but only read it if you have a strong stomach.
September 26, 2021
Loved this. I found it to be a mix between Don Carpenter and Denis Johnson/ Leonard Gardner.
May 27, 2009
I recently came upon a cheap copy of this book at a discount bookstore in my area, and remembered liking it so decided to give it a go. Why not -- I mean, it's good for me to throw some literary fiction in there now and again, right? This reminded me, however, of why I always wind up reading literary short fiction. I don't know if I just had really different taste in college (very possible) or if I am actually remembering liking Cold Snap (slightly less possible, since I'm pretty sure I distinctly remember liking both), but I was just not feeling this.
The whole collection felt like, well, something I would have liked when I was younger, or that would have seemed more edgy to me then. Now, it was just a collection of misogynists and misanthropes, slightly more than half of whom were the same unlikable narrator at different ages (and in different cliched situations -- boxing, Viet Nam, abusive parents, etc). You know it's a poor collection when the terminal illness story is the one I like best. I just really wasn't feeling it this time -- especially with the connectedness of the stories, it reads like a novel that didn't work out. It's not that I don't like any lit fic (I mean, look at the other books I own), but for the moment, it's back to Gossip Girl for me.
The whole collection felt like, well, something I would have liked when I was younger, or that would have seemed more edgy to me then. Now, it was just a collection of misogynists and misanthropes, slightly more than half of whom were the same unlikable narrator at different ages (and in different cliched situations -- boxing, Viet Nam, abusive parents, etc). You know it's a poor collection when the terminal illness story is the one I like best. I just really wasn't feeling it this time -- especially with the connectedness of the stories, it reads like a novel that didn't work out. It's not that I don't like any lit fic (I mean, look at the other books I own), but for the moment, it's back to Gossip Girl for me.
March 21, 2019
"Twentieth-century America is one of the most materially prosperous nations in history. But take a walk through an American prison, a nursing home, the slums where the homeless live in cardboard boxes, a cancer ward. Go to a Vietnam vets' meeting, or an A.A. meeting, or an Overeaters Anonymous meeting. How hollow and unreal a thing is life, how deceitful are its pleasures, what horrible aspects it possesses."
Perhaps more than any short story writer of his generation, Thom Jones wrote stories for and about the down and out. He wrote for the psychically damaged, heartbroken, alcoholics, addicts, janitors, boxers, and anyone living in the shadows of American prosperity. These stories are filled with Jones brand of hyper masculine darkness (even his female characters seem imbued with testosterone) and even in their darkest moments it seems as if Jones sees redemption in them. That for all the shit the world may throw at them as it tries to knock them down, they refuse to fall.
They are in many senses admirable people trying to make sense of a world that ignores them. That they refuse to be ignored is what makes them so admirable and Jones the fantastic writer that he was.
Perhaps more than any short story writer of his generation, Thom Jones wrote stories for and about the down and out. He wrote for the psychically damaged, heartbroken, alcoholics, addicts, janitors, boxers, and anyone living in the shadows of American prosperity. These stories are filled with Jones brand of hyper masculine darkness (even his female characters seem imbued with testosterone) and even in their darkest moments it seems as if Jones sees redemption in them. That for all the shit the world may throw at them as it tries to knock them down, they refuse to fall.
They are in many senses admirable people trying to make sense of a world that ignores them. That they refuse to be ignored is what makes them so admirable and Jones the fantastic writer that he was.
June 18, 2020
A lot of reviews call this collection “manly” and make comparisons to Hemingway, Bukowski, et al., but these felt much more sensitive and cerebral than all those. The boxing and war stuff seems to me more like the latent content Jones himself had to work with, but his treatment of this subjects is by no means in-line with the typical Papa Hemingway posturing some reviews lead one to believe.
I think reading a bit about Thom Jones himself helped contextualize some of these stories.
I think reading a bit about Thom Jones himself helped contextualize some of these stories.
October 22, 2019
Thom Jones' life was pretty off-beat, actually, quite off-beat. As far as his literary life went, that was off-beat too. Quite off-beat. This is a collection of short stories, most set during combat in Vietnam. Jones never got to Vietnam, but not for lack of trying (for the rest of the story, check out wikopedia etc. The stories in this collection are so intense that you might, as I did, experience an altered conscienceness. The men in combat sure do. What differentiates these stories from 'magical realism' is that they show how circumstances can rev up perception to a level that would possibly only occur by taking drugs. I can't think of any fiction writing quite as intense as exists in these stories. The closest prose I've read would be DIspatches by Michael Herr. Or you could find some similarities to the hallucinegenic experience of reading parts of Blood Meridian by McCarthy. If you read either of those two books, and liked them, you should like this one. Other than some knowledge of the Vietnam War experience--even if experienced vicariously in movies--the best way to prepare for these stories (if you have the inclination) is to read Care of the Soul by Thomas Moore to understand where Thom Jones is taking you if you're willing to go for a ride. I'd say you don't so much read these stories but viscerally respond to them as you might if experiencing a virtual reality program that is giving you the illusion of warp speed. Lore has it that Thom Jones finished the Iowa Writers' Program, then spent ten years reading 10,000 books to master his craft. It worked, although you won't find this pre-writing activity in creative writing books.
September 26, 2024
I remember reading the "The Pugilist at Rest," "The Black Lights," and "The White Horse" in The New Yorker, "I Want to Live!" in Harper's, and "Rocket Man" in The Mississippi Review before the collection came out. They were just blammo! Voice driven maximalism. Like nothing else. As were the rest of the stories in the collection. Narratively all over the place, unstructured at times, and yet that narrative voice, unrelentingly in your face. You will hear this! The voice drenched in macho, too. Even the two women narrators have big cojones. That was a strike against, even in the early 90s. National Book Award finalist was surprising, as were stories in the Best American Short Stories anthology three years in a row. The voice so strong it couldn't be denied. Reading these stories again was exciting. Those narrative voices still so adrenalized. Still rare.
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March 22, 2023thaaaaaaat's more like it. equals or surpasses the best of sonny liston cover to cover; KOs cold snap. the old boxing trainer in "rocket man" talks about burning cuts shut w/ a chemical solution & stories like "i want to live!" operate the same way: healing, sure, but it's gonna hurt like a bastard. would not recommend reading more than 2-3 pieces at a go as the repeat elements (temporal lobe epilepsy; hotshot trauma surgeons; schopenauer and/or nietzsche; boxing; boxer dogs; dads hanging themselves at the nuthouse) can have a numbing effect, but digested at a responsible pace this collection is a marvel. sleep tight & don't let the molasses rabbit bite
March 26, 2025
Epilepsy, boxing, Schopenhauer. If you like one or more of these things, this book is for you.
August 29, 2009
Denis Johnson and Thom Jones share the same muse. This should be a relief, since having read Denis Johnson before this book made it seem that Johnson had his creative proboscus sniffing up creativity in some locked away subterranean hole. Two probosci, one hole. Which brings me to my other point; these stories present a decidedly masculine energy, one that is strangely tender. I have never seen the Kid Rock Scott Stapp prostitute orgy video, but I imagine some tender moments emerged between the two. They both have long flowing hair, consider the possibilities and confusion. Like all good writers Jones tries to redeem the seemingly irredeemable. It is easy to chafe against the characters and the narrators, but to do so would be to dismiss stories that point out the frailty of the human body and the uselessness of bravado in solitude.
Perhaps the strangest thing about these stories is that they do not sit in my mind long after reading. This is a product of my liquified brain and the fact that the stories seem to hit the ground running. They are a glimpse of a greater narrative arc. With that they are stories that are not being currently written, they exist off-stage and the stories are pulled in two infinite directions.
Perhaps the strangest thing about these stories is that they do not sit in my mind long after reading. This is a product of my liquified brain and the fact that the stories seem to hit the ground running. They are a glimpse of a greater narrative arc. With that they are stories that are not being currently written, they exist off-stage and the stories are pulled in two infinite directions.
November 21, 2013
An object lesson in cooking. The best of cooks, as I understand it, are able to take a few ingredients--the purest they can find--and distill them into a few straight-forward yet astounding dishes.
Jones ingredients are a few truths: war, boxing, loss, magic, potential, irrational instinct,etc. His treatment of them makes me feel that rare sort of simultaneous resonance and dissonance with the world (resonant dissonance? dissonant resonance?) only found in the best of books or works of art. It is such works that make dredging through the rubbish worthwhile.
This collection presents us the platonic shadows on the wall and the richness just beyond our grasp. It doesn't take us there; it knows it can't. But it can manipulate those shadows ever so slightly such that we get a glimpse of what they hide.
This is probably too glowing a review. The occasional sentence, paragraph, or scene does fall flat. But what are they ultimately?
Jones ingredients are a few truths: war, boxing, loss, magic, potential, irrational instinct,etc. His treatment of them makes me feel that rare sort of simultaneous resonance and dissonance with the world (resonant dissonance? dissonant resonance?) only found in the best of books or works of art. It is such works that make dredging through the rubbish worthwhile.
This collection presents us the platonic shadows on the wall and the richness just beyond our grasp. It doesn't take us there; it knows it can't. But it can manipulate those shadows ever so slightly such that we get a glimpse of what they hide.
This is probably too glowing a review. The occasional sentence, paragraph, or scene does fall flat. But what are they ultimately?
March 7, 2017
4.5 stars
Thom Jones died last year. He put his whole large heart into these stories of war, boxing, drinking, & the tolls taken.
The fits are coming more and more. I’m loaded on Depakene, phenobarbital, Tegretol, Dilantin ― the whole shit load. A nurse from the V.A. bought a pair of Staffordshire terriers for me and trained them to watch me as I sleep, in case I have a fit and smother facedown in my bedding. What delightful companions these dogs are! One of them, Gloria, is especially intrepid and clever. Inevitably, when I come to I find that the dogs have dragged me into the kitchen, away from blankets and pillows, rugs, and objects that might suffocate me; and that they have turned me on my back. There’s Gloria, barking in my face. Isn’t this incredible?
Thom Jones died last year. He put his whole large heart into these stories of war, boxing, drinking, & the tolls taken.
The fits are coming more and more. I’m loaded on Depakene, phenobarbital, Tegretol, Dilantin ― the whole shit load. A nurse from the V.A. bought a pair of Staffordshire terriers for me and trained them to watch me as I sleep, in case I have a fit and smother facedown in my bedding. What delightful companions these dogs are! One of them, Gloria, is especially intrepid and clever. Inevitably, when I come to I find that the dogs have dragged me into the kitchen, away from blankets and pillows, rugs, and objects that might suffocate me; and that they have turned me on my back. There’s Gloria, barking in my face. Isn’t this incredible?
October 8, 2012
i remember reading "a white horse" many years ago and thinking "oh my god, who is this, how is this happening, this is amazing, holy shit, someone wrote this???" and then getting to the end and turning the page and turning it back and just staring at it blankly. that's the end? what, did he die or something? and that's how i feel about every story in this book. (except the ones in the middle, which just aren't very good.) it's an amazing, thrilling, fantastic voice, but he just can't write an ending.
May 14, 2008
Tough-guy fiction.
Boxing and Vietnam and absent fathers and sex, in that order. Boxing in Vietnam. boxing to spite absent fathers. Absent fathers who were boxers. That kind of thing. If you like Tim O'Brien but think his books are too complex and meta-fictional and self-conscious, and lack boxing, then Thom Jones is your man.
The title story is really kind of magnificent, tho.
Boxing and Vietnam and absent fathers and sex, in that order. Boxing in Vietnam. boxing to spite absent fathers. Absent fathers who were boxers. That kind of thing. If you like Tim O'Brien but think his books are too complex and meta-fictional and self-conscious, and lack boxing, then Thom Jones is your man.
The title story is really kind of magnificent, tho.
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