Status Updates From Sheep: Classified: A Witty ...

He was quiet for a moment. "You understand that what
you are about to walk into is the oldest mechanism we
have. We have simply updated the vocabulary." A
pause. "They will not call it a witch trial. They never
do, they never need to, but they will hunt you to the
end."
He turned towards the window. The light had not
changed.
"They will decide what you meant," he said, "and that
becomes the record."

Then he said: "Do you expect people to believe you?"
"I expect them not to," I said. "Belief is the wrong in-
strument. The ones worth reaching will verify. That is
enough."

...on a ride with the full commitment of someone who has nowhere else
to be, and if, in each case, he is accompanied by some-
thing wearing a sheep's patience behind a dog's eyes,
do not be alarmed.
No rejoicing is required. We cross, and we pass. A nod
will do. A small smile. That is enough light for the
moment.

That is how we will know you.

The world contains people I care
about. And the people I care about contain people they
care about. And somewhere in that chain, in that accumulation of people caring about people, extending outward in every direction from wherever you are standing right now, there is someone who will read this and
recognise something.

The most honourable thing, I had come to understand, was not to demand that the world change. The world has been asked to change before. It has noted the request and continued. The only thing, really, that belonged entirely to me, was to change what I could change, which was myself, and to leave behind what I could leave behind, which was this.

The kindness was the evidence.

More than anything, this book seems to be satirizing the absurdity of arbitrary authority and officious behavior.

I do not know how long we were in the arena. Long enough for the
sky to finish its business and go fully dark, the stars properly arrived
now, more of them than I was accustomed to, no city light here to
soften them, just the string lights below and everything else above, and
between them the warm dark and the sound of bumper cars and, occasionally, a laugh that I recognised as mine and did not try to account
for.

I laughed.

Not the polite laugh of a meeting, not the careful laugh of a man who has learned which laughs are appropriate and deployed them accordingly for fifteen years. Something further back than that. Something that did not consult the rest of me before it arrived.

Then she repositioned, lowered her head, and drove the red car back into mine with considerably more force than the situation strictly required.

I laughed.

...the car lurched forward with a sound like mild disagreement, and I drove it in a wide, wobbling loop and felt the specific pleasure of moving without destination, which is a different thing from going nowhere, and is in fact almost the opposite.

"Well?" I said, as I came around.

"The rotational velocity is consistent," she said.

"That's not what I meant."

She considered this as I came around again.

"It is not unpleasant," she said.

Fans of Glorious Exploits should read this book. It's not a exactly tragicomedy, but it's not unrelated.

This book would be an amusement park for someone who really knows ancient history. Such a minimalist story that opens like an origami swan (folded papyrus?...) into something much larger, if you're willing to take the time.

The fire had been dealt with. The building was no longer his. The building, he had been told, would be repaired quickly. As rooms. New names required addresses.
...

He did not yet know what came next.

He spoke without drama, describing the crisis as mere weather, an everyday condition to endure. In my experience, that calm was always worse.

"How lush and lusty the grass looks," she said, "how green."

I looked at her.

"Shakespeare," she said. "It does not apply literally."

"No," I said.

"All flesh is grass," she said, more quietly.

The sky above me had ceased to be a color and become a verdict.
...

The city had arranged itself with no apparent interest in whether I was ready.

She said the soil was workable and the neighbors were at a sufficient distance.

I found this was the highest evaluation she was capable of giving. I found I was glad to have earned it.

The first attempt was poor. The second was worse in a more informative way. I placed my feet badly, used my arms too much and treated the earth as though it might respond to persuasion.

It did not.

The farmer watched quietly, revising his expectations, none of them upward.

"You ever worked a field" he asked.

"No," I replied.

"I can see that."

...

He did not make a lesson of it. That was one of his mercies.

I stood at the edge of the field with my hands doing nothing. This was a familiar arrangement. Other men worked. I observed. If necessary, I recorded. If asked, I gave an opinion and returned to the clean portion of my life.

"If I run my part well, and the baton is dropped after I pass it, what was my running worth?"
...
"The point is...that no one runs alone."

"...because no one agreed where natural history ended and moral philosophy began..."

Philanthropy, I had noticed, preferred to announce itself before being asked.

"Authority, I understood, was not always given. Sometimes it arrived at the exact point where one stopped pretending not to see."

"Two fires burned at either end, and the light they threw made the evening feel chosen rather than endured."

No further questions, your honor. Verdict is in, this is great writing.

Useful damage is a great concept.

Shades of Christopher Moore's brilliant Lamb, a touch of Hitchhiker's Guide and a little Pratchett to top it off, this is a nice surprise.

The narrator of a novel telling its readers that they can read the chapters in any order they want is intriguing and smart, even if I would never do such a thing. Really solid writing here, definitely an author to be watched, possibly a book to be sought.

Fun and funny--smart writing. A nice change of pace from my recent choices and a bit of a gamble going for a satire with such a long, heavy subtitle, but it's looking good.