Book Report: Why Did I Ever

Somewhere between planning a trip to SF to apartment-hunt, organizing logistics for babycare whilst I train for the new job, packing what goes and deciding what won't go, watching a lousy episode of Lost, not writing poetry, etc., I found time to finish a quick read: Why Did I Ever by Mary Robison.

The book is written in short, mostly numbered notes, like quick prose poems rather than regular fiction. Early on, the notes are fragmented and they require focus from the reader to figure out the narrative. As it goes on, the notes tend to flow into each other more. Plotlines emerge, and characters become consistent.

It's not so much a story about things as it is about people. Robison, superficially, is capturing the narrator's fragmented, disjointed psyche with the note format. More than that, though, she uses the form for the usual goal: attempting to convey a genuine reality. Life, of course, is too complicated and multi-tasked to be truly represented in a linear, traditional story.

Robison never commits to the idea, in my opinion, not fully. I realized near the end that she was going to tie up stories, bring resolution to conflicts and complete subplots. I didn't want that. I was enjoying the craziness too much. There's something reassuring in the unconnected pieces. They resonate.

Many of the notes reminded me of absurdist-leaning poetry, stuff like Russell Edson or Kenneth Koch, maybe some Dean Young, too. Like this:
"I say, 'I'd be happy in this room if I had a dust mop.'
'No,' I say with a sigh, 'that is not true. It wouldn't end there."

She's able to throw these things in and not feel compelled in any way to justify them. Take this:
"A news thing with the president comes on the television. He tells the press, 'Let's not take the super-flew-us route,' and moves his hands in a snaking motion. I think that's wrong in several ways. And I think perhaps a syllable maximum should be set for some people and, I'm sorry, but rather a low one."

As for why I read this one, Kate was reading it in VT last June(?). It looked like a cool idea for a book. But now that I look at it, there's a blurb from Amy Hempel, who teaches at Bennington, on the back. And she thanks Rick Moody (also Bennie) in her notes. Sometimes I wonder about that. People get their friends to write blurbs, so is Robison a small-time writer, or is Hempel bigger than I know? Does it matter? Not really. I'd just like to have a book out with blurbs from great writers, like:
"This book was so amazing I came back to life to read it." -Emily Dickinson

That would be awesome.