Utah: A novel

by Toby Olson

Told in the first person and set against the backdrop of contemporary America, the book captures the intertwining lives of an unforgettable group of men and women, each displaced by old loves and modern life. At the center of the novel is David, a masseur whose hands reveal secrets and ease pain. But now his own pain - from the death of his friend Anson - is complicated by the arrival of a box of mementos recalling his life with Lorca, the wife who abandoned him years before without a trace. These memories of his lost wife and friend send him back in search of his past to his Navy buddy Melchior; to his friends Carl and Anne, whose once thriving marriage, he finds, has come undone; and ultimately to the eerie, sunbaked desert landscape of Utah, where the past is reclaimed, where Lorca is found, and the power of old ties is felt once more. Part parable, part novel of quest, Utah poetically renders the dilemma of sexual preference, the sensuality of physical love, the unspoken intimacies of friendship, and the mysterious bonds that link human lives.

282 pages, Paperback

First published January 1, 1987

About the author

Toby Olson (born 1937 Chicago) is an American novelist.
Through high school and his four years in the Navy as a surgical technician, he lived in California, Arizona, and Texas.
He graduated from Occidental College and Long Island University.
Toby Olson has published eight novels, the most recent of which – The Blond Box – appeared from Fiction Collective-2 in 2003; and numerous books of poetry, including Human Nature (New Directions). A new novel, The Bitter Half, is forthcoming. The recipient of fellowships from the Guggenheim and Rockefeller foundations and the National Endowment for the Arts, Olson’s novel Seaview received the PEN/Faulkner award for The Most Distinguished Work of American Fiction in 1983. Toby Olson lives in Philadelphia and in North Truro, on Cape Cod.

Reviews

[Myles · Rating 3 out of 5]

Poor Toby Olson! He writes sentences so sharp they clear the flesh off our bones, but his novels are closer to wet dog food slung from the can-- they stick for a bit before slowly sliding down to the floor, a trail of thick brown sludge accompanying their descent.

[Dawn · Rating 2 out of 5]

A freaking slog. Both trippy and mundane. I constantly wondered if it was written entirely while high.

[Ben · Rating 3 out of 5]

3.5