The Blue Period

by Matthew Gasda

A groundbreaking work of fiction from the "one Millennial writer with a chance to be read for pleasure, insight, and wisdom in a hundred years." The Blue Period takes place entirely within the mind of an unnamed narrator, whose father has recently died, over the course of a single day in New York City. The The plot of the novel is the texture of a pointillism of words. The Blue Period is a novel of a "strange and remarkable beauty."

Genres: Fiction

110 pages, Paperback

Published January 1, 2020

Reviews

[Ezra · Rating 4 out of 5]

I liked this one, but I liked it less than Moon on Water. I have my own mess of an internal dialogue, and while it's interesting to switch it up a bit and read someone else's, The Blue Period is overwhelmingly disturbing and depressing and (seemingly) unintentionally so. Where is the relief? What is gained?

I can appreciate darkness, but when it's delusional and pervasive and at the expense of others... not a fan. What is the take away? Everything sucks? Cool, I knew that. Tell me something I don't know.

That being said, there were a couple gorgeous passages that grasped at the sweetness of life in a dark time and place. I needed those to get to the end.

And I do appreciate the way it ends - with a sliver of hope. That was probably my favorite part.

[Keith [on semi hiatus] · Rating 5 out of 5]

An extraordinary stream-of-consciousness prose-poetry piece that I quickly found reading with a little pace really allows the vibe to become more absorbed coming off the page; it so effortlessly blends the protagonist's coming/going/long-lasting characters and his life/psychology/ailments/hurt/pain/love (and more emotion). It's a quick, somewhat self-reflecting, tender piece to read.

Having read Queneau’s Exercises in Style prior to this, over happenstance it aligns really well against Queneau's exercises, it's been lovely reading an exercise in this style today as a follow-up (not to favour one over the other, more so as extension for the tool-belt).

How much of it being truth would be interesting to hear about. If truthful, partially at-least (based on line 93’s “we’re not alright”), on a human level, the topics raised I can totally relate to having been separated from my own father for coming-up ~2/3 of my life.

If it’s Paul Celan being referenced to throughout I’ve not read anything by him so to doff my cap to M. Gasda for the name-drop, I will need to add a few things to my to-read pile.

For others that read this, what type of writing style would you describe is as, there’s absolutely no punctuation and it’s a single run-on sentence over 100 pages, it’s beautifully read, I personally can say a similar amount of emotions were felt reading this as that of Samantha Harvey's Orbital, obviously on a more singular familial & romantic level than that of the unitised experiences of her characters across their space mission.

I look forward to more of the same.

[Melissa Nelson · Rating 5 out of 5]

This is a piece that contradicts itself. It’s small book; one may read it quickly, as the heaviness of this distinct hue urges each page to be turned. But this heaviness is absorbed, it is only with time that the narrator’s truth leaks through- and I suspect this truth will continue to saturate.
Thinking on this piece today, I hold it as a collection of distinct images and shades who demanded release, thus nudging open a gate to the emotional inheritance which guides and haunts our daily human lives.

[Alex · Rating 4 out of 5]

Grew to enjoy its fragmented prose and lack of narrative.