When it started to become clear in February that 2020 was going to go full clusterf&*k, novelist Kevin Brennan (Parts Unknown, Yesterday Road, Eternity Began Tomorrow) decided to start a daily journal to memorialize the infamy. Then Donald Trump survived an impeachment trial, and a deadly little bug known as covid-19 came ashore. After that, the nation and every man, woman, and child in it were tested like we’ve never been tested before. Toilet paper vanished from store shelves. Hand sanitizer was like rare vintage wine. We had to find a way to stay alive and run a presidential election, battling a tide of lies and misinformation, a sabotaged Post Office, and maskless neighbors who thought the virus was a hoax and the promised vaccine a form of covert mind control. Nearly 400,000 dead later … our darkest year finally came to a merciful close.
You’ve already forgotten a lot of it for your own mental health. But now you can safely revisit it in bite-sized daily doses in Infamy—A Journal of Our Darkest Year.
Kevin Brennan is the author of seven novels, including Parts Unknown (William Morrow/HarperCollins), Yesterday Road, and, coming in May '22, The Prospect. His short fiction has appeared or is forthcoming in The Berkeley Fiction Review, Mid-American Review, Twin Pies, The Daily Drunk, Sledgehammer, Fictive Dream, Atlas and Alice, LEON Literary Review, MoonPark Review, Atticus Review, and others. He's also the editor of The Disappointed Housewife, a literary magazine for writers of offbeat and idiosyncratic fiction, poetry, and essays. Kevin lives with his wife in California's Sierra foothills.
At first I wasn’t sure I wanted to relive 2020 through journal entries, but as soon as I started reading I was fascinated by the trip down 2020’s memory lane—as infamous as it might be. With smooth prose that's effortless to read, Brennan covers the pandemic, including both its public health and economic toll, as well as the politics behind it because, as we all witnessed, thanks to a very divided U.S. the two are sadly forever linked. Through it all, Brennan injects his own personal experiences with honesty and wit. For example, he notes: “It’s been raining all weekend, which makes coping with a pandemic so much easier. The lack of sunlight really hits the spot.” It’s these sardonic gems that remind me laughter is indeed a very good medicine, especially in challenging times.
How do you write a review of a book that takes you back through the horror of 2020? A day-by-day revisiting of all that was in the worst year in modern history? Brennan takes us through a daily journal of the events and his thoughts and feelings as these things unwound, leading up to the inauguaration of Joe Biden. At first I was going to mark the book down for what becomes a somewhat repetitious sense. But then I realized that is part of the power of this book. The last 12 months have been nothing if they have not been a daily, sometimes hourly, reminder of just how bad things have seemed to be. Whether it was the virus and corresponding pandemic and lockdowns and foolish people acting foolishly, or the election and all that it brought forward about American politices and the yawning divide that exists in this country, 2020 really was one repetitious trip through a house of horror. And Brennan does a good job of presenting the newsworthy events of each day and how he struggled with each day's development. There's a lot of anger here, a lot of frustration, a lot of disgust. And all of it makes sense and needs to be said. (Be forewarned -- if you are a fan of Donald Trump, this is probably not the book for you unless you have an open mind to the anger his words and actions can produce in others.)
Let me cut straight to the chase - this is a great book. A little scary as I forgot some of the things that happened (but who wouldn't forget, out of the chaos that happened every single day?). It was interesting reading as I compared it with some of my own thoughts in my own journal over the last year.
As a proofreader, it was difficult to read someone else's journal. We all leave out words as we write, but a journal is an unedited collection of thoughts. But once I got past all of that, I settled in and relived the last several months.
I enjoyed Brennan's humor (sarcastic, dry and witty). I enjoyed his descriptions, which seem to mirror my own descriptions. Such as, Dr Redfield looking like a salty old sailor (or something close to that). The various descriptive words to describe the former president. Some were hilarious. Some were frightening. All were accurate.
While it was obvious that I share the author's politics (nearly identically), reading them through someone else's eyes and experiences, was affirming that I'm not alone.
I recommend that everyone take a few hours and read this. Because we should never forget what we lived through in the past year. I only wish I could pick this up in a paper copy to save with my own personal journals of 2020 to save for posterity (or for my grandson so he will have a more clear picture of what happened).
This is a personal journal, not a history. In fact, it may be of use to those who someday write histories. It's a chronicle of the year 2020, and the first few weeks of 2021, based on Brennan's personal observations of conditions in his part of California, on information from media, and his own political views. It is not unbiased. Parts of the book may be called rants. As a Canadian who wasn't seriously affected by the pandemic, and who experienced the Trump presidency from a distance, I found it an eye-opener. As I read, knowing the outcome of the 2020 US election and what happened on January 6th, 2021, occasionally I would think "You ain't seen nothing yet!" Brennan's informal yet eloquent prose made the book feel like reminiscing with an old friend. I recommend it to anyone who wants to revisit this tumultuous year from the point of view of a dweller on the "left coast."