There may be other writers of prose active today who are the equal of Simon Van Booy but I’ve yet to encounter them. And in this set of shorter stories, he accomplishes almost as much as most would achieve in a full length novel. At 100 pages, the leading story “Love Begins in Winter” might be considered a novelette; a story of people at mid-life who are working through complex issues of grief, loss, displacement, it’s a layered, deeply expressive work that took me as long to read as many a novel. Over and again, I found myself going back and re-reading whole chapters to fully capture its essence, as successive aspects of the characters and their inter-relationships were revealed.
Each of the other stories also introduces new delights. Van Booy is not easy to quote meaningfully out of context: his stories work only as complete pieces. But I wanted to especially celebrate, in “The Coming and Going of Strangers” his masterful depiction of a young man in the throes of first love:
Walter longed for something to happen — a fire, a flood, some biblical catastrophe that would afford him an opportunity to rush in and rescue her …..
A gentle but powerful feeling took Walter, and the boy immediately understood the obsession of the portrait artists he’d read about in his uncle’s books; the troubadour poets and their sad buckled horses; the despairing souls who rowed silently in dusk in a heavy sea; the wanderers, the lost, those dying blooms who’d fallen away.
Walter’s young mind reeled at the power of his first feeling of love. He would have walked to America if she has promised to meet him there …..
And then Walter thought of something else. Could it be that first love was the only true love? And that after those first fires had been doused or burned out, men and women chose whom they would love based on worldly needs, and then re-enacted the feelings and rituals of that first pure experience — nursed the flames that once burned of their own accord ….
With his mind churning experience into understanding like milk into butter, Walter thought of Adam and Eve, the inevitable fall — their mouths stuffed with apple; their lips dripping with the sweet juice of it; the knowledge that life was the fleeting beauty of opposites, that human experience was the result of conflict, of physical and spiritual forces trapped within a dying vessel.
Each story is set in a very different place — Las Vegas, a small town in France, Québec City, Stockholm, etc. and the characters vary widely. But each story, in its own way is a love story and a story of self-discovery.
Brilliant!