What do you think?
Rate this book
Two Small Birds
Dan Charles reads Whitman the way some people read the Bible. He works three jobs. He attends college. Dan’s older brother sells industrial parts and wants out. Dan wants something. In Two Small Birds, the brothers take flight in the worst possible way. This is the story of what it means to be family, to be working class, and to dream of being a poet in a world that refuses books. Set in tiny apartments and roadside diners, truckstops and warehouses, dive bars and worse hotels, Two Small Birds is a story of misdemeanors and perseverance, the jobs we take and the lives we lose. It’s the story of love, and whoever is in charge of that.
296 pages, Paperback
First published January 17, 2014
52 people want to read
About the author
Dave Newman
7 books53 followersDave Newman is the author of seven books, including The Same Dead Songs (J.New Books, 2023), East Pittsburgh Downlow (J. New Books, 2019), The Poem Factory (White Gorilla Press, 2015), the novels Raymond Carver Will Not Raise Our Children (Writers Tribe Books, 2012), Two Small Birds (Writers Tribe Books, 2014), Please Don’t Shoot Anyone Tonight (World Parade, 2010) and the collection The Slaughterhouse Poems (White Gorilla Press, 2013), named one of the best books of the year by L Magazine. His stories, essays, and reviews have appeared in Gulf Stream, Vol. 1 Brooklyn, Belt, the legendary Nerve Cowboy, Smokelong Quarterly, Ambit (U.K.), Tears in the Fence (U.K.), The Pittsburgh Post-Gazette, and many other places. He appeared in the PBS documentary narrated by Rick Sebak about Pittsburgh writers. Winner of numerous awards, including the Andre Dubus Novella Prize, he lives in Trafford, PA, the last town in the Electric Valley, with his wife, the writer Lori Jakiela, and their two children. After years of working in medical research, serving elders, he now teaches writing at The University of Pittsburgh-Greensburg.
www.davenewmanwritesbooks.net
www.davenewmanwritesbooks.net
Ratings & Reviews
Friends & Following
Create a free account to discover what your friends think of this book!
Community Reviews
Displaying 1 - 14 of 14 reviews
December 8, 2014
[Reprinted from the Chicago Center for Literature and Photography (cclapcenter.com). I am the original author of this essay, as well as the owner of CCLaP; it is not being reprinted illegally.]
Dave Newman's Two Small Birds is the best kind of social-realist novel there is, a genre that can be fraught with problems if not handled with a delicate touch; not the dour, preachy kind of social realism from do-gooder academic liberals that seems to dominate this type of storytelling, but more the "here's to the losers" celebration of lumpens made so famous by Nelson Algren, which tends to only get pulled off when the author in question is a fellow prole like Newman is. (The book's plot mainly concerns itself with our hero's nightmarish stint as a long-distance trucker, and the author mentions in his bio that he himself used to be a long-distance trucker, so I'm just assuming here that many of these anecdotes are based on true stories.) Now, that said, be warned that this novel also occasionally dips into overly sentimental territory itself, nearly impossible to not do at least a little when trying to write sympathetically about addicts and homeless people; but in general this is a wonderfully hard-edged look at those members of society destined to squander nearly every opportunity ever presented to them, and a blackly joyous look at why these people still matter to society at large. It comes generally recommended to CCLaP's overall audience, but especially so to fans of Bukowski and other such writers. Here's to all my friends!
Out of 10: 8.8
Dave Newman's Two Small Birds is the best kind of social-realist novel there is, a genre that can be fraught with problems if not handled with a delicate touch; not the dour, preachy kind of social realism from do-gooder academic liberals that seems to dominate this type of storytelling, but more the "here's to the losers" celebration of lumpens made so famous by Nelson Algren, which tends to only get pulled off when the author in question is a fellow prole like Newman is. (The book's plot mainly concerns itself with our hero's nightmarish stint as a long-distance trucker, and the author mentions in his bio that he himself used to be a long-distance trucker, so I'm just assuming here that many of these anecdotes are based on true stories.) Now, that said, be warned that this novel also occasionally dips into overly sentimental territory itself, nearly impossible to not do at least a little when trying to write sympathetically about addicts and homeless people; but in general this is a wonderfully hard-edged look at those members of society destined to squander nearly every opportunity ever presented to them, and a blackly joyous look at why these people still matter to society at large. It comes generally recommended to CCLaP's overall audience, but especially so to fans of Bukowski and other such writers. Here's to all my friends!
Out of 10: 8.8
April 14, 2014
Another terrific, and gutsy blue-collar novel for the hard-working and hard-living everyman from Newman. A story of two brothers, their dreams, and the work they put in to make it happen -- all beautifully blended with the existential angst of youth, the uselessness and necessity of poetry and poisoned love, and the diesel fumes and methamphetamine of long-distance trucking. In short, another novel from Newman, and from Pittsburgh that you don't want to miss.
March 24, 2021
It’s just a really, really strong look at a scrapper’s life, plain and simple.
January 16, 2018
In Two Small Birds, readers are reassured that they will probably fail, despite their best efforts to be “good” when they know they’ve been “bad.” The novel follows 23-year-old Dan Charles as he shuffles between an undergrad degree in poetry plus a few bad part-time jobs, to full-time truck driver. Well, truck driver for a year; that’s all he’s promised his brother John that he can do. Truck driving is the most boring, soul-crushing job that forces Dan to choose between right and wrong and more money versus little money on an hourly basis. He finds that if he takes speed and drinks he can stay on the road longer and make more cash, but he’s nearly dead when he gets three days off, which he uses to sleep at his brother’s apartment. Or, he can eat well, exercise, and stay sober, but then he has trouble driving for ridiculously long periods.
The whole truck-driving career is part of a plan for Dan and John to invest in a wire that other companies won’t carry--it’s expensive, but everyone sells the cheap imitation that has to be replaced all the time. Dan drives truck and saves up money for his part of the investment, and John continues working his crappy on-call job as his end of the bargain. Both know Dan’s job is harder, and tension grows as Dan remembers their childhood when John would lie to get Dan in trouble or beat his younger brother to keep him in his “place.” Here’s where readers start to feel distrusting of John. “Boys will be boys” is a cheap excuse adults use to justify brothers abusing each other, but when does it stop? Is John going to screw Dan over despite them being in their 20s?
The beauty of this novel comes from two places. One is its specific appeal to American ideals: working hard, bootstraps, that sort of thing. John and Dan aren’t part of a get-rich-quick scheme; the hours Dan logs are equivalent of years of working. But the jaded America we live in today tells us that whether John is trustworthy or not, their dream is dead before its up and running. Compared to those who reach out and achieve success seemingly without effort, the brothers are like two small birds trying to survive in nature’s deadly ecosystem. Dan wants to be a full-time poet and reader, but others who work those man’s-man jobs are skeptical of his employability: “You should go to prison,” his landscaping boss advises, “They have a good welding program in prison.” Do we live in a place where prison serves us instead of us serving in prison?
The other beauty of Newman’s work is his attention to people. To capture such weird, unbelievable characters and make them wholly likeable is a feat that no other in contemporary small press author comes close to. Newman does dialogue like nobody’s business. In unfamiliar territory, Dan stops to ask if there is a Chinese restaurant around the area:
This review was originally published at TNBBC
The whole truck-driving career is part of a plan for Dan and John to invest in a wire that other companies won’t carry--it’s expensive, but everyone sells the cheap imitation that has to be replaced all the time. Dan drives truck and saves up money for his part of the investment, and John continues working his crappy on-call job as his end of the bargain. Both know Dan’s job is harder, and tension grows as Dan remembers their childhood when John would lie to get Dan in trouble or beat his younger brother to keep him in his “place.” Here’s where readers start to feel distrusting of John. “Boys will be boys” is a cheap excuse adults use to justify brothers abusing each other, but when does it stop? Is John going to screw Dan over despite them being in their 20s?
The beauty of this novel comes from two places. One is its specific appeal to American ideals: working hard, bootstraps, that sort of thing. John and Dan aren’t part of a get-rich-quick scheme; the hours Dan logs are equivalent of years of working. But the jaded America we live in today tells us that whether John is trustworthy or not, their dream is dead before its up and running. Compared to those who reach out and achieve success seemingly without effort, the brothers are like two small birds trying to survive in nature’s deadly ecosystem. Dan wants to be a full-time poet and reader, but others who work those man’s-man jobs are skeptical of his employability: “You should go to prison,” his landscaping boss advises, “They have a good welding program in prison.” Do we live in a place where prison serves us instead of us serving in prison?
The other beauty of Newman’s work is his attention to people. To capture such weird, unbelievable characters and make them wholly likeable is a feat that no other in contemporary small press author comes close to. Newman does dialogue like nobody’s business. In unfamiliar territory, Dan stops to ask if there is a Chinese restaurant around the area:
The skinny guy said, “Yeah, next exit. Head east. Only place on the road.”For anyone who has been in those “good-ol’ boys”-type bars, you know these patrons. You’ve seen them or argued with them. They’re probably members at your local Eagles or Moose or Elk club. Newman grabs these personalities, rips them off their bar stools, and smacks them on the pages of Two Small Birds. Even the prostitutes are likeable when they’re making you mad. This is definitely some manly fiction with a humanities bent.
“That’s not Chinese. That’s Korean,” the old guy said....
“What the fuck’s the difference?”
“I was in Korea,” said the old guy.
“...You’ve been bullshitting about car racing like you know everything and now you’re bullshitting about Korea. You’re a bullshitter. Shut up and watch the TV.”
“My big brother was in Korea for the war. Got shot in the pinky toe.”
“So your big brother was in the Korean War and got shot in the foot and now you’re an expert on Korea, is that it?”
“I didn’t say I was an expert.”
“No, you said you were in Korea.”
“I misspoke,” the old guy said. “Now I’m going to go out to my truck and get my gun and I wouldn’t be surprised if it misspoke right in your skinny fucking face.”
This review was originally published at TNBBC
February 22, 2014
I have become a big fan of Newman's work, especally his poetry. In this novel, Newman explores the relationship between two brothers, who are endeavoring to save money so they can start up their own business. Newman captures the strain created by sacrifice and how love can make people insane. His gift is in highlightening the importance of secondary charactes and how they infuence the unraveling of the story. My only complaint is that I finished it too quickly and now have to wait for his next work.
March 24, 2021
As always, Dave Newman writes characters that are real and raw and vulnerable. Enjoyed this story as much as everything I have read from Newman, and maybe even more. Great writing style!
July 31, 2022
Engaging style. A book written from a man s point of view for sure.
January 24, 2014
Dan Charles is a recent college graduate, the passion of his studies—Poetry. With a love of Walt Whitman, a deep curiosity of Thoreau, and an obsession with Carl Sandburg, he finds himself stuck in the humdrum, everyday working life of western Pennsylvania. In a small world where Poetry is laughed at, education is shunned, and the love of arts is not commonly shared, Dan moves from job to job, trying to make it on his own. His parents have moved to Michigan after the plant his father worked for closed down. Dan is left to tread water with his slightly older brother, John, who sells industrial parts to local businesses and has a much better grasp on their current reality than Dan; at least we’re led to think so.
“Two Small Birds” by Dave Newman is a novel written in the first person character of Dan and reads much like the character’s memoir. We are mesmerized by Dan’s blunt account of his life and sympathetic to his plight in a setting that ignores who is, forcing him to conform to the reality of its everyday life. But Dan’s brother, John, has a plan for both of them to make it in this world. His idea is for Dan to take a job as a truck driver, and they will save what he makes to eventually start their own business. Dan takes the job, and we are taken on a whirlwind tour of Dan’s experience through road trips across America, bars, whorehouses, and the oddest of situations.
Newman’s stylistic writing allows us to clearly hear Dan’s sometimes desperate voice. We feel his depression, we get angry with him, and we feel as hopeless as he does. Through it all, Dan and his brother escape through the many barrooms of western Pennsylvania, where they drink, fight, argue, and hatch crazy plans that may or may not succeed. Newman’s supporting characters are as real and as genuine as the main character. John is the older brother who is supposed to be some sort of superior authority, yet like most, fails miserably in the role. Becca is Dan’s taunting and irritating girlfriend whose passion for sex he shares. She is a lively, goofy, and a well drawn character we’d love to slap as much as Dan would.
Newman keeps us traveling with Dan, turning the pages to discover what will happen to him, how his life will ultimately turn out. Early in the book, after a night at the bar, we are placed in a tense and nail biting scene with Dan and John in the front seat. And then Newman brilliantly takes us back into the past, leading us up that very moment which will be Dan’s ultimate epiphany. Towards the end of the novel, Dan sums up his current stage of life in a moment of clarity.
“For the past ten months I never worked harder or more hours at a worse job in my life—and I’d worked terrible jobs since I was a teenager—but the rest of it, my free time, was like a party I’d dreamed for myself back in high school. I seldom lived without immediate access to drugs or copious amounts of alcohol. There were strippers. There were hookers. There were fights.”
“Following my brother was my only plan. I was clumsy with everything, even when I stood still, even when my hands were empty. The way I talked was a beat off. The way I dressed was pathetic.”
As we return to the front seat of the car, the climactic scene ends with the realization we hope that Dan will find throughout the book. The final words become a perfect analogy of Dan’s life as he’s known it, and the change of life comes over him. Newman has created a luminous coming of age novel that shines not only on the main character, but on an everyday, American setting that many know nothing about. “Two Small Birds” is a top-shelf literary accomplishment, establishing Newman comfortably in the category of his idols.
“Two Small Birds” by Dave Newman is a novel written in the first person character of Dan and reads much like the character’s memoir. We are mesmerized by Dan’s blunt account of his life and sympathetic to his plight in a setting that ignores who is, forcing him to conform to the reality of its everyday life. But Dan’s brother, John, has a plan for both of them to make it in this world. His idea is for Dan to take a job as a truck driver, and they will save what he makes to eventually start their own business. Dan takes the job, and we are taken on a whirlwind tour of Dan’s experience through road trips across America, bars, whorehouses, and the oddest of situations.
Newman’s stylistic writing allows us to clearly hear Dan’s sometimes desperate voice. We feel his depression, we get angry with him, and we feel as hopeless as he does. Through it all, Dan and his brother escape through the many barrooms of western Pennsylvania, where they drink, fight, argue, and hatch crazy plans that may or may not succeed. Newman’s supporting characters are as real and as genuine as the main character. John is the older brother who is supposed to be some sort of superior authority, yet like most, fails miserably in the role. Becca is Dan’s taunting and irritating girlfriend whose passion for sex he shares. She is a lively, goofy, and a well drawn character we’d love to slap as much as Dan would.
Newman keeps us traveling with Dan, turning the pages to discover what will happen to him, how his life will ultimately turn out. Early in the book, after a night at the bar, we are placed in a tense and nail biting scene with Dan and John in the front seat. And then Newman brilliantly takes us back into the past, leading us up that very moment which will be Dan’s ultimate epiphany. Towards the end of the novel, Dan sums up his current stage of life in a moment of clarity.
“For the past ten months I never worked harder or more hours at a worse job in my life—and I’d worked terrible jobs since I was a teenager—but the rest of it, my free time, was like a party I’d dreamed for myself back in high school. I seldom lived without immediate access to drugs or copious amounts of alcohol. There were strippers. There were hookers. There were fights.”
“Following my brother was my only plan. I was clumsy with everything, even when I stood still, even when my hands were empty. The way I talked was a beat off. The way I dressed was pathetic.”
As we return to the front seat of the car, the climactic scene ends with the realization we hope that Dan will find throughout the book. The final words become a perfect analogy of Dan’s life as he’s known it, and the change of life comes over him. Newman has created a luminous coming of age novel that shines not only on the main character, but on an everyday, American setting that many know nothing about. “Two Small Birds” is a top-shelf literary accomplishment, establishing Newman comfortably in the category of his idols.
December 2, 2013
Dave Newman's characters, like a lot of folks I know, work bad jobs for good reasons, and hope for better. In this book, you'll find sex and pills, 18-wheelers and truck-stops, motels and mountains. You'll also find truly arresting insights and observations about family, hometowns, highways, lovers, and what it means to work. And not just gritty work, but the dreams and goals beyond the gritty work, the stuff that makes Newman's protagonist, Danny Charles, learn to drive a big rig in order to contribute almost all of his income to a fund a plan dreamed up by his brother. I'm blown away by the comic touches and big-hearted moments in this honest novel that catches us as we are--needful, raw, yearning--and shows us the true pain that only love can bring. Highly recommended.
September 28, 2014
The things a writer will do to himself when he isn't writing... I never thought I'd find a book about brotherhood and truck driving so interesting. Nicely developed plot arc and a good experiment with a sympathetic antagonist.
February 27, 2014
Newman has done it again!
Read
December 13, 2020Knowing.
April 28, 2017
This is another great book by Dave Newman. It's a book about brothers and how they manage to entangle their financial futures together by getting the one brother (the younger) to become a cross country trucker. I forget what the older brother contributed to the plan, maybe he helped invest in the rig. But the bar scenes between the brothers as they get drunk and concoct their plan is priceless. The older brother comes across as the brains/more successful of the two. The younger brother goes along with the plan and before the reader knows it, we're on a road trip with a trucker. This trucker writing and descriptions of the pill popping truck driver life is way better than, "Breaker Breaker this here's Rubber Duck, I said let them truckers roll, 10-4". Newman's descriptions of driving a truck, popping pills, waiting for loads in shithole towns, dealing with predatory women on the open road, and hoping for safer love on the home front is all too real and humorous and meaningful. This is a masterpiece by a great working class American writer.
May 13, 2018
too rough, angry, violent for my tastes
Displaying 1 - 14 of 14 reviews