Micah Webber’s Reviews > The Emperor of Gladness > Status Update
Micah Webber
is on page 175 of 402
“It was one of those days where you work your skin off and have no desire, no strength even, to go home. There was a kind of luxury to be amongst this place of sweat and ache and yet sit and suck a cigarette down to its soggy nub and have no one tell you anything because you're off the clock. A dignified, defiant rest.”
I’ve smoked this exact cigarette, myself. Surely many of us have!
— 10 hours, 55 min ago
I’ve smoked this exact cigarette, myself. Surely many of us have!
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Micah’s Previous Updates
Micah Webber
is on page 60 of 402
He. . .felt granted into a realm much greater than his sad, little life, which made his troubles seem suddenly ethereal and elsewhere. He not only had a position in the company—but the company had no idea what his past looked like because none of that mattered. He had become an employee and thus had obtained an eternal present, manifested only by his functional existence on the time card.
— Feb 01, 2026 06:01AM
Micah Webber
is on page 5 of 402
It's a town where high school kids, having nowhere to go on Friday nights, park their stepfathers' trucks in the unlit edges of the Walmart parking lot, drinking Smirnoff out of Poland Spring bottles and blasting Weezer and Lil Wayne until they look down one night to find a baby in their arms and realize they're thirtysomething…
— Jun 01, 2025 01:21PM
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10 hours, 55 min ago
Slowly feeling the scales of my adoration tip from Vuong’s poetic summary statements—which, in a way I don’t remember from his first novel, sometimes seem a little tidy and contrived—to these lived-in elucidations not only of mundane moments but of how it feels to be in a frail body and shakily captain a failing mind through those mundane moments.
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“Can camaraderie-the bond of working in unison be enough to make you want to put your mouth to a kid with a busted face, to find him somehow more complete despite his unrecognizable beauty, the smell of his armpits seeping through his work polo, that garlicky, vinegary scent of humanness canceling the drugstore deodorant he wore to hide it? Yes, Hai realized now—it was.”
“Once, after a blizzard, tired from making a one-section, enormous snowman by himself, he rested here and saw, at the tree lin, a man kneeling in the snow while another man, standing, held on to a branch and searched the sky, saying the Lord's name over and over. To this day it was the strangest and most graceful prayer he'd ever seen.”
