In stories that are as diverting as they are disconcerting, Steven Rinehart plumbs the psyche of that most perplexing the American male. Set against a stark Midwestern landscape dotted with trailers, guns, cars, and crashed, these are deftly crafted and oddly resonant portraits of men behaving badly and men who have it bad—usually at the same time. A Boy Scout struggles through a bizarre boys-to-men ritual. A man starts a love affair with a diabetic who prefers booze to insulin. Another man who's finally enjoying his first sex-only relationship destroys it by clinging to a white lie. From the high school teacher battling his attraction to a troubled student to the patron who becomes a conspirator in a violent outburst in a bar, these are guys who have a lot to learn and seem to insist on doing so the hard way. Linked throughout the collection in surprising ways, Rinehart's stories ultimately form a cohesive work that introduces his as a writer of striking vision and offers a sharp-focus snapshot of men who need a kick in the head—and get it when they least expect it.
Huh. This book was much better I expected. I'm not sure what's up with the punk-lite hipster on the cover, because these stories are about hicks and philanderers and and drunks and guns and motorcycles and children drowning in pools.
As with any collection, the stories are uneven, and as I always always always say when I finish a book of short stories, the best ones made me really upset when they ended. The terrific-est by far were "Make Me" (two teachers who used to be together have broken up because they're each in love with one of their students – who also used to be together. Since the students broke up, the girl has gone on hunger strike, and the boy has begun an affair with the lady teacher) and the title story (a young-ish guy is tentatively having an affair with a married diabetic veterinarian who "forgets" to take her insulin and goes out of her head in a very very sexy/dangerous way), each of which could easily easily have been stretched into novels that I would have loved to read.
I read this while living in a fifth-wheel on the skirts of town, frequenting a dive-bar along the Utah-Wyoming border, and constantly thinking, "I Hate My Life." Then catching the bit about watching a BYU game in a bar, it all hit. I compare it to Proulx but, it has it's own language. If you are demented, depressed, or an orphan of the american dream, check it out.
An impressive debut collection of short stories by a writer to keep an eye on. Each of these stories had elements that made me wince and I mean that in a good way. Rinehart examines in close-up detail the basest of human foibles with humor and pathos.
it looked like it would be an interesting collection of short stories. when i finally picked it up the writing was choppy and hard to follow with zero depth.