When CGM’s book club meets each month, we take a vote on whether to recommend the current book or not. For the first time last month, I was in the minority. Not only that, I stood alone in recommending this book. I open with this trivial tidbit as a warning that the praise that follows was not shared among guys who are faithful readers and who do not dismiss books lightly. However, I stand firm in my adoration of this book.
This is Hayes’ second collection of short stories. The first was This Thing Called Courage. I gave that book heavy praise too, and to this day continue to contemplate one of those stories (“Rain”, well worth the price alone.) Whereas no story from this collection will carry that kind of wallop a year from now, most of these stories have given me plenty to think about.
The title piece leads the set. The narrator’s name is Joey Hayes, which strongly suggests that the story is autobiographical. Although it does not paint a pretty or desirable picture of current day gay love, it certainly is accurate. Although Hayes promises in his foreword to be less “bleak” this time, he does not avoid it altogether.
But should he? Like Courage, all of these stories are set in or strongly tied to South Boston. Southy ain’t exactly Portsmouth. These characters know crime and despair; they understand that today could be their last. Indeed, they live in the moment, and the stories ride on these waves. Are there moments of pure bombast? Sure. But that’s what makes Mahler so great. Indeed, each story ends too soon, sometimes too abruptly, and you are rendered breathless in contemplation. You must process what you’ve just taken in. What higher praise can I give?
I suspect that a full-length novel will appear in the next few years. (I hope.) I think Hayes is still learning, using the short story medium as an English laboratory. Unlike my colleages, I’m delighted to be a subject. Get this book and enjoy.