In a triumphant return to the characters that launched his career two decades ago, Tom Drury travels back to Grouse County, the setting of his landmark debut, The End of Vandalism. Drury’s depictions of the stark beauty of the Midwest and the futility of American wanderlust have earned him comparisons to Raymond Carver, Sherwood Anderson, and Paul Auster.
When fourteen-year-old Micah Darling travels to Los Angeles to reunite with the mother who deserted him seven years ago, he finds himself out of his league in a land of magical freedom. He does new drugs with new people, falls in love with an enchanting but troubled equestrienne named Charlotte, and gets thrown out of school over the activities of a club called the New Luddites.
Back in the Midwest, an ethereal young woman comes to Stone City on a mission that will unsettle the lives of everyone she meets—including Micah’s half-sister, Lyris, who still fights fears of abandonment after a childhood in foster care, and Micah’s father, Tiny, a petty thief. An investigation into the stranger’s identity uncovers a darkly disturbed life, as parallel narratives of the comic and tragic, the mysterious and everyday, unfold in both the country and the city.
A portrait of two disparate communities united by the restlessness and desperate hope of their residents, Drury’s haunted souls, adrift between promise and circumstance, reveal our infinite capacity to “get in and out of trouble in unexpected ways” and still find a semblance of peace at the end.
Tom Drury was born in 1956. The recipient of a Guggenheim Fellowship, Drury has published short fiction and essays in The New Yorker, A Public Space, Ploughshares, Granta, The Mississippi Review, The New York Times Magazine, and Tricycle: The Buddhist Review. His novels have been translated into German, Spanish, and French. "Path Lights," a story Drury published in The New Yorker, was made into a short film starring John Hawkes and Robin Weigert and directed by Zachary Sluser. The film debuted on David Lynch Foundation Television and played in film festivals around the world. In addition to Iowa, Drury has lived in Massachusetts, Connecticut, Florida, and California. He currently lives in Brooklyn and is published by Grove Press.
There are a lot of character names thrown at the reader at the beginning of "Pacific" which makes for a confusing beginning. Don't let this deter you. I know this is a sequel and I didn't read the first installment but after a few chapters I was able to sort everyone out. It's well worth the effort.
This is an ensemble piece with the Northern Midwest farming community and Southern California as much characters as are the people. Tiny and Joan have two grown or almost grown children. They're divorced. The story begins with Joan, a Hollywood soap star, coming home to reclaim her youngest, Micah, and take him to California to live with her. This leaves Tiny to run amuck on his own but he does it in a hilarious though often pathetic way. In this town of misfits there's also Sandra who arrives in search of her ne'r do well childhood friend, Jack. Jack is just out of prison and newly hooked up with a new girlfriend. Sandra doesn't let reality stand in her way of her mission which is to preserve some ancient magical artifacts that she believes Jack has stolen. She's a take no prisoners kind of gal. And then there's Louise and Dan with their ever close yet rocky marriage. The thing all these characters have in common is a passion for life and for one another. A grim past and a threatening future hover yet all these folks live in the moment. Thankfully there's the humor in "Pacific" rescues what could have made for a sad story. It isn't the kind of humor that laughs at people unless it's to laugh at mankind in general. For all its fancifulness "Pacific" is a believable story. This type of craziness is exactly how people act. The writing is superb. This short book is one of my favorites for 2013.
Reviewers often reference Twin Peaks when trying to describe Drury's writing, but the analogy misses the target, though it is aimed in the right general direction. Drury's stories aren't about anything in particular, no important themes, no propulsive plots, and they certainly aren't creepy in that brilliant Lynchian way. They seem to be more about the sweetly weird mystical America that we miss if we're not paying attention. The writing is economical yet densely unspoken. You know how Barry Gifford is doing his own thing? Tom Drury is similarly doing his own thing. Readers who enjoy stopping to smell the roses will likely appreciate the Drury-ian aesthetic.
I've proclaimed my love for Drury with the other two novels of his that I've read, and that love hasn't dwindled--even with the four instead of five-star rating.
The reason for the four rather than five is that I felt that a bit too much of this one was left undone. I do love how distant his narration is and his ability to craft the ridiculous into the real and how time will simply pass without much pomp, but his past novels have felt more complete in their detachment. For this one, I was left wanting to know more about some of these characters, to have seen a bit more of them, and to have--at least--a slight closure to more of the arcs.
Still, the writing is beautiful, many of the lines and moments extremely insightful, and the fact that I want more says something about the characters and how I felt about/for them.
It's a fantastic book, to be sure, but it just might leave you hanging more than you're comfortable with--even if you, usually, don't mind a loose thread or two or three.
This was a wonderful little book that I heard about thru Yiyun Li's tweets, unfortunately missed the author's appearance at Green Apple Books, then just kept hearing other authors raving about his books. He revisits an area in North Dakota from an earlier book (which I just put on "want to read") but I don't think you need any previous backstory. To me, this book reminded me of an offbeat version of "Plainsong" mixed with Wendell Berry's fiction. It was the rare, fairly slim, book that you can't put down, but you also want to slow down and savor. A woman who had given up her daughter (now 23) at birth and deserted her son (now 14) and husband seven years ago, comes back from Hollywood to North Dakota to pick up her son. The son has agreed to live with her and her new husband and stepson (17) in Southern California. The mother is now a TV actress, living an affluent life, with all the good, and bad, that goes with that. It's a story of being uprooted from your home, trying to fit into a new life, falling in love for the first time. It's about the tarnished glitter of Hollywood and its emptiness that leads to drugs and alcohol and self-gratification vs. the upper midwest and its goods and bads. It's about a lot, written as a little. After a short "processing time", I look forward to getting into his previous books. Thanks, Yiyun.
Pacific by Tom Drury (Grove/Atlantic, 2013, 208 pages, $25.00) set in the chilly world of rural Minnesota and the warm, loosy goosey world of Southern California is held together by fourteen year old Micah Darling who moves from living with his small time crook father Tiny Darling and his partner to California, where his mother Joan has become a minor television star and film actress. The novel follows the aimless lives of too many characters to keep straight as they seek meaning and connection to others in their lives. The book is written from a distance, as in a dream, observed from above through a haze of marijuana, alcohol, and loss of direction and meaning. Apparently, the characters in Pacific represent a return to a novel published twenty years ago, The End of Vandalism. Read my full review in early here: http://tedlehmann.blogspot.com/2013/0...
continuing with characters first seen in The End of Vandalism and Hunts in Dreams, Pacific continues to demonstrate Tom Drury's excellent attention to small moments of humanity, humor, and absurdism. He could write about these same characters for his next 10 books and I'd be happy. While not as tightly constructed as End of Vandalism or hypnotically powerful as Hunts in Dreams, Pacific nonetheless has one of the best final 20 pages of any book I've read, showing what Drury does best, expressing great humanity in haunted characters who are about one second away from losing themselves under the most innocent of circumstances.
"Dan sliced the grilled cheese on the diagonal and brought it to the table. He missed a little more of his sideburns every time he shaved and was beginning to look like someone in a Western. "What are your nighttime worries?" he said. "There's so many," she said. "That I haven't been kind. That there's a meanness in me. That we will die." "The last part is the only true one." "Do you look at the obituaries? People are living older and older, but they're also dying younger and younger." "I know what you mean." "Then we'll be done, and they'll sell our house, and it will be like we were never here. I think of the people that will buy our house. I can see them walking from room to room, thinking 'Oh, we can do way better than those other people did.' You know, like everyone does when they look at a house. Do you worry about that?" "Not till you said it," said Dan. "We probably have thirty years anyway. Maybe more. I could see us being really old. Think how many things will happen in that time." "Like what?" "I don't know. People going to the moon on vacation." "Would you go to the moon? I don't think I would." "Well, if they fixed it up a little bit." "I think I'm bothering Lyris and Albert." "Did they say that?" "No." "I think they would. They're not shy people." "They are, though," said Louise. "You don't know them like I do. One night I got mixed up and said I was her mother." "I wouldn't fault you for that." "I just wish we had our girl," whispered Louise. Dan nodded, breathing quietly. "Then she could have the house. And she could be running through it, and someday her kids could be running through it. And we would say, 'Slow down, you're going to hurt yourself.'" She laid her head on her arms. "This is what the night does," she said. "Puts sad things in your mind."
***
"I've seen you playing volleyball." "Yeah, I like it." Micah got high, his thoughts fading to simple awareness of the ocean. He felt made of stone. If seagulls attacked he would probably just sit there getting pecked. You never knew what you were getting with weed. Probably someday it would all be as uniform as alcohol. The sun bled red into the water and the ringing in his ears fell to a whisper. "I like volleyball," he said. "You want to get in a real game, I know some people. They play at night on other beaches. Gets pretty serious." "Where would you end up if you just started swimming?" said Micah. "Channel Islands." "How far is that?" "Twenty miles." "And then what?" "Japan." "How far is that?" "Way out there." "I want to go to Japan." "Fuck, man," said Mark. "Fly out LAX tonight you got the money."
Quirky and fun but didn’t feel quite as coherent and didn’t pull me in like the first two books in the trilogy - maybe not entirely its fault as I left a big gap in listening to it on audiobook. Still overall a good addition to the books about small town America that I do seem to have a fondness for.
Tom Drury attempts to fabricate eccentric and varied characters in order to fill two complex worlds—the rural, midwestern Stone City and the bustling Los Angeles. But the lack of detail in these created people turns this story into the reader’s own hunt for life the text.
The 3rd installment concerning Stone City’s inhabitants, Pacific begins with Micah’s departure to Los Angeles to live with his estranged mother, Joan, and his step-family. While Micah weaves through teenage trials and tribulations in the big city, the other numerous residents of Stone City—Tiny, Louise, Dan, Lyris, just to name a few—go about their lives until an unusual stranger, Sandra Zulma, arrives in search of a mystical Celtic stone. Flurries of names are dropped without any character description. We know nothing about these characters, leaving the audience to guess even basic details of their appearance. Joan’s description is summed up entirely in one sentence: “she had long blonde hair, wore a pleated red dress and white gloves.”
Most characters aren’t even given that. They are entirely blank as the story begins, and as the story progresses nothing changes. Drury bombards the reader with character after character, yet they all remain faceless. Only the names distinguish one character from another.
Involuntary dialogue makes this novel as dead and stale as Stone City itself. Characters in this vast company chatter, banter, argue, discuss, but only when forced to: “Charlotte said you kissed.” “What about it?” “Was it good?” “Yeah.” “I bet. And what else?” “Nothing else.” Micah’s description of his first romantic encounter with Charlotte reads more like an automated sales transaction than a blossoming love story. There’s no description, no emotion in the delivery; it’s hard to connect to such indifferent people.Empty conversations are a staple of the novel, ruining intense moments between characters with the lack of emotional depth.
The reason for excluding such pivotal dialogic details is as opaque as Sandra Zulma. Supposedly meant to disrupt the town with her crazed personality, her acts of lunacy are so sporadic and emotionally disconnected that they offer none of the impact Drury means for them to have. Her sudden swordfight more than a hundred pages in leaves the reader bored and confused, and the emotional level never rises above robotic: “the fight lasted perhaps fifteen minutes, though it seemed longer. They hacked and parried, charged and retreated.” Zulma becomes a perfect example of the shallow and meaningless actions pervading the novel.
Occasionally, Drury surprises us with a diamond of scenic description: “Ladybugs emerged from the petals and clung sleepily to the stems, then began bobbing around the apartment.” Such picturesque moments, however, are ruined by the stale, dry characters which inhabit these beautiful spaces. Like pieces of coal, the reader must do too much work to refine the characters into diamonds
Drury leaves it to the reader to do all the work in developing his characters, leaving too much to our imagination. Indeed, an author’s job is to make the audience think, but a reader should ponder the quality of thought and not Micah’s emotional attachment to his girlfriend. After spending their time trying to decipher the basics of the characters, readers may be too exhausted to mull over the thought-provoking subjects Drury intended to be the focus: experimental style, family ties, or coming-of-age.
Drury tries to invent a cast of lost characters searching for meaning, but in the end we are the ones hunting for realism in this empty cast of characters.
"An odd little book" seems to be a frequent phrase used to describe that book. I liked the author's style: economical without being terse, descriptive without feeling overblown. In particular his characters speak with a voice that while not realistic (they're far too honest for real life --- far too able to let a silence lengthen)is quite charming. It's not a plot-heavy novel more apt to feel like a leisurely pleasant stroll through a series of people's lives. Drury manages the series of intertwined stories and vignettes with a particularly light-hand and while the characters face life events such as divorce, infidelity, death and even murder, the events never felt dramatic. It was a pleasant change of pace after a series of emotionally heavy novels to read one that rests so lightly and yet memorably on this reader.
This is a rambling read and while he moves his story along expertly, in the end it feels like a song, just there and then gone. I remember reading an excerpt from The End Of Vandalism in The New Yorker years ago and appreciating his writing. He develops his characters well and while I remember nothing about that book or his people, the name of Tiny Darling is memorable. He likes peculiar names and I am usually irritated by that, but it was okay here. I still like his writing, but this is so slight, it merits little more than what I have said here. While I never could write this, I would not necessarily desire too. People shift in and out, like actors in a play appearing and disappearing with their stories and I felt a little bored by it at the conclusion.
I couldn't tell you what the book was all about, but I could tell you that I'd wasted 6 hours of my life listening to it. I want my book to have at least one plot, and the dialogue to at least be intriguing/interesting. But neither was true with this book. It's a book, not an abstract art. It needs to take me somewhere and not just leave it up to me to go wherever I want with the written words. You can be clever with your wording, but at least take me somewhere.
See a comment from someone who could put my feelings about the book in a much more precise than I could.
I've been trying to think of apt comparison for the world Tom Drury creates in this novel, and I think I've hit upon it: the radio program This American Life. Especially in its early years. There is something about both that sifts through the ordinary to find the odd, the quaint, the mysterious.
Drury's world is one of compassion, empathy, forgiveness, and even the worst sins are treated as misdemeanors.
Part Three of Drury's tales of the good folks of Grouse County: I see no reason for there not to be half a dozen more. Drury still has the same understated humor, the same ease of narrative pacing, the same willingness to allow the reader to draw connections between all of his interconnected characters and plot lines; nothing is forced.
I loved Pacific. I loved getting back in touch with the characters from Grouse County—I realized I have been missing them for years. And I love Drury's writing: not a syllable out of place. Each section a prose poem.
Love his writing and the way he makes such complete characters. This book was great in being a sequel that wasn't a sequel in how it returned to characters but kept them fresh and new, and added interesting much different story lines.
This one is a bit weak at the end, I felt it took another turn towards the ending. There are some crazy twists inside this novel. However, this turn is peaceful with a beautiful view!
I do admire going back to these characters! I do like visiting them again.
There is a mystery at times, passion in some relationships, there are imaginative qualities, too. Drury's freeform is something I admire because I use it often in my writing, too. He catches the small town feel, flavor, closeness and it is nice to read here inside these pages. Moral codes are tested along the way as this story unfolds and builds with these characters and their shared connections.
Going back to Grouse County, I love the New Luddites that emerge with Micah as he goes out on his own to another place. Charlotte is an active voice in his world. She seems to ground him.
Lyris is fighting with her ghosts and her past. Tiny is still being the bad guy with his petty movements in this community. Surprises enter and laughs are involved. The Laughing Bandit is exposed in time. A shipping giant is missing nine packages and Tiny's car drifts along the snow-covered highways. He stops at the tavern and he encounters Sandra Zulma. Then, things change.
Louise is someone I admire and I like hearing her voice. Hans Cook is taking care of her mother by being there. Mary Montrose dreams vividly. Louise has a close connection with Mary. They know what each other is thinking by their connection. They are agreeable in most cases after discussion. Mary saw Louise in her dream and she thought she was a beautiful woman and told Hans this. Dan supports Louise through her loss.
Micah wants to buy a California smoke but isn't old enough. "I saw you at the marijuana doc's" (p.171). A man takes a silver case out and hands Micah a joint. Micah thanks him. This man, Mark invites Micah to stay with him and his girlfriend on the beach. She is Beth with the freckles, green eyes, and strawberry blonde hair. They hang out eating curry and drinking red wine together. Beth paints and doesn't sleep well. Her and Micah connect. They sit on the porch together and watch the moon. "down to the sea"(p.173).
Sandra is seeking Jack in the woods. Lyris is seeking out Micah through Joan. At the beach, Lyris calls his name, and he forgets the lost match. He hugs her. They walk down the Pacific and she enters the water. They wade in the surf together. Lyris's yellow dress floats on the water's surface. The gulls are silent but present above them. A ship is on the horizon and they stand hand in hand. The waves hitting them but they are never moving. It is over.
Two different communities brought together here. Haunted souls with promises and circumstances. But, there is peace at the end.
Tom Drury's third visit to the fictional Midwest Community of Grouse County is another delight.
Apart from anything else, it is great to be reunited with characters from both The End of Vandalism and Hunts in Dreams.
Here we find Tiny Darling still dabbling in illegality; his ex-wife Joan trying to carve out a new life in Hollywood; while Tiny's other former partner Louise is still (just about) with now ex-sheriff Dan.
Enough time has elapsed since Hunts in Dreams for Tiny and Joan's son Micah to be on the verge of adulthood, and , in one departure for Drury, we spend sections of the novel in California. Micah decides to live with there with Joan, e mother that left him and her life Grouse County a decade ago. His stepsister Lyris meanwhile is now living with her boyfriend.
As ever in Drury's novels, plot is largely secondary to character and comedy. I just find it a joy to be immersed in his world though. There is plenty of his trademark dry humour, and brilliant one-liners. But there is also the same stamp of melancholy and sadness that permeates all his work.
Drury may be a comic writer but it does not mean his novels aren't serious. He has created a believable world with flawed characters you can't help caring about. He is also in complete control of his material, even if there are bizarre turns such as a character faking Celtic artefacts, and a murderous girlfriend.
Perhaps this is not the pinnacle of the trilogy, (Hunts in Dreams probably takes that accolade), but it's still fantastic. I am just hoping that Drury is now working on a fourth installment as this is a world I don't tire of visiting.
"Il risveglio è il momento in cui le ferite fanno più male."
Pacifico è il terzo ed ultimo volume della Trilogia di Grouse County di Tom Drury.
Edito nel 2013 in lingua originale, è stato tradotto e proposto nella nostra lingua lo scorso 28 Giugno da NN Editore.
Se non l'avete ancora fatto, vi invito a leggere le mie recensioni di La fine dei Vandalismi e di A caccia nei sogni perché, sebbene la storia dei tre libri possa essere compresa anche separatamente, trovo che questa serie sia assolutamente da leggere in ordine cronologico.
In questa recensione voglio, oltre che parlarvi di Pacifico e delle sue caratteristiche, tirare le somme di tutta la trilogia che ora, dopo aver terminato la lettura, vedo come qualcosa di univoco e compatto.
Pacifico ritorna, in buona parte, alle scelte stilistiche e strutturali già viste nel primo volume (La fine dei Vandalismi, QUI su Amazon). I capitoli vedono al loro interno protagonisti e ambientazioni differenti, le storie raccontate sono molte e non ruotano intorno ad un unico nucleo familiare.
Tra i tre incipit, quello di Pacifico mi è sembrato quello più chiaro e coinvolgente: si comprende da subito la situazione e, dopo aver letto i due volumi precedenti, è molto più semplice per il lettore entrare nel mondo creato da Drury sin dalla prima parola.
Drury is in top form as all the characters introduced in “The Age of Vandalism” and making return appearances in “Hunts in Dreams” return for an encore. Don’t worry if you haven’t read the previous two. All becomes clear in short order.
But not that clear. That’s part of the magic of Drury’s seemingly aimless plot and scattered dialogue. But as with all of Drury’s five novels, all these leaves come together at the end of the story to show that you’ve actually been viewing a tree.
The dialogue is crisp and revelatory. “And never, never get a credit card,” Tiny Darling tells his son. “How would you pay it back?” responds 14-year-old Micah. “You wouldn’t. That’s the idea.”
I’ve read all five Drury novels, and this is surpassed only by “The End of Vandalism.” Excellent work.
Con Pacifico Drury torna ad aprire quel mondo di racconti che, dopo l'ampio respiro de La fine dei vandalismi, aveva prodotto in A caccia nei sogni un ripiegamento sulla storia di Tiny Darling e della sua famiglia: ora Grouse County è addirittura scenario di truffe e delitti e Louise si trova a passare rapidamente da una doccia ad un risoluto tentativo di difendere la propria casa da un criminale; ora gli orizzonti della contea del Midwest si dilatano fino alle spiagge assolate della California, dove Micah, in preda alle prime esperienze sregolate, esercita il talento di pallavolista che ha appena scoperto. La lettura della trilogia di Grouse County è una compagnia ormai familiare, che fluisce rapida come il tempo passato con gli amici e dalla quale è davvero difficile staccarsi. https://athenaenoctua2013.blogspot.co...
"He felt a profound and enjoyable emptiness." A fourteenth-year-old boy goes to live with his estranged mother in California while the rest of his family and acquaintances continue their lives in the Midwest. Drury's writing is this perfect synthesis of Realism and Postmodernism: there is a directness to the prose while the story and characters are just slightly off-kilter. Much like DeLillo, plot is used only in a superficial way to emphasize the lines on the page. Drury can be very funny when he wants to be, but it is a dry dark humor. The scenes teeter back and forth between severe and flippant. Drury is a writer's writer and all of his books contain a beautiful simplicity. A strange and beguiling piece of fiction. For fans of Kent Haruf and Don DeLillo.
Drury's writing is always vivid, and clever. But the narrative of this book is like those Robert Altman movies of the 1980s, and 1990s, with dozens of characters some of them famous actors or musicians. The book shifts between the Midwest and Los Angeles. But from the very beginning of the book, I found reading it (and caring about the characters) difficult. It was like being dropped into the middle of their story arc. I had to read the jacket copy once or twice to remind myself about the story. Some of the characters are a sequel to Drury's first book, The End of Violence (3.0-3.2/5.0 stars)
I love Drury for his ability to alter my way of seeing the world and the word. His dialogue is a potent tool and one he often employs for the purposes of drawing forth the humor in a bleak world. As with Drury's other novels, you're never quite sure how he's going to pull all of his various threads together in Pacific until he magically synthesizes them in the most impossible and artful way. I found myself underlining so many exchanges that the entire book was winding up that way. This isn't a book for the impatient reader; it's one you have to let change you.
I'm feeling a little wrecked right now having come to the end of the 3 book arc with these characters. I don't want to say goodbye to Louise and Dan and Tiny and Micah and Lyris (I don't really mind saying goodbye to Joan whose dinginess serves a purpose but whose carelessness drove me a little crazy.) The writing is so beautiful and I'm still trying to figure out how Drury manages to write such a full story with such economy. The book is less than 200 pages but it packs so much in to the brief length: there's such richness and humor and understanding of humanity.
The disjointed style didn’t suit me: I thought it was a screenplay/storyboard lacking in depth & detail. The humour was there, but a little tangential. Our bookclub discussion did improve my understanding that the author’s intention was for the reader to add their own depth, and my suspicion that there was a back story was confirmed as it’s part of a trilogy. For that I belatedly acknowledge the skill in the writing style: more Lake Wobegon than Jane Austen.
I have no clue what I just read. That's not a dealbreaker, since I read it anyways and since there are books that substitute mini-narratives in for a plot, but this book didn't really have it for me. The book could have ended 50 pages beforehand and I wouldn't have felt a difference, or gone on another 50 and I wouldn't have felt a difference. I think some people will like this book - just not my thing, at least not right now.