When
was the last time you actually had fun reading a novel? I ask because
that was exactly my experience when turning the pages of Jeff Bursey's Unidentified man at left of photo.
And this exploratory novel (a term Jeff uses in describing what others
might call experimental fiction or metafictional fiction or some such
term for fiction beyond traditional narrative) is not only outrageously
fun but contains oodles of surprises, a few shocks, and dabs of humor
that had me laughing out loud, a kind of meta-laughter, if there is such
a word.
We're in Canada, on Prince Edward Island, and to share a
taste of what a reader will encounter, take a look at the opening
paragraph -
“A guy named Joe, beneficiary of an inheritance,
landed in charlottetown, pei, in the late winter of maybe 2016. He could
have been placed anywhere, but there's not a lot of fiction set in pei,
and the marketing nitch might help.”
You have to love Jeff
poking fun at the way publishers usually keep in mind the marketing
department and projections on the number of books they should include in
their initial print run. And, by the way, the narrator gave his guy the
name Joe as a nod of respect to Henry Miller, who, in Tropic of Cancer, had each of his characters call one another Joe so no one would take themselves too seriously.
“The
conceit is that he removed himself from another atlantic province, but
he can't be too far away from the ocean due to nostalgia (this you'll
have sympathy with, as everyone misses something), and that as a
stranger he can experience a string of clichéd adventures while
providing a perspective that helps you understand the gentle, red clay
island. You anticipate he will change over time because you've been
trained to read coming-of-age or quest novels.”
Of course, Jeff
(to tell the truth, I don't see that much difference between Jeff and
the tale's narrator) is playing off of Italo Calvino's If on a Winter's Night a Traveler.
Nothing like an author coming right out and speaking directly to you,
the reader, about how you read novels and will read the very novel, his
novel, you are in the process of reading. And even as I write this, I
have the sense my words might come across as a bit too heavy-handed,
that I might not be catching all of Jeff's satire and metafictional
tongue-in-cheek, which is a polite way of saying I could be flubbing the
dub.
As per usual with novels, we read about a batch of
characters, but the metafiction high jinks continues to be sprinkled
throughout, as when about half way through, on page 135, we read, “Some
of what you've read could stand a bit of touching up, some tightening,
if not being kicked out of this tale altogether. To make up for any
minor literary crimes, and because I needed to take a day off after
avoiding he said/she said, here's a more substantive act of stealing.”
What does the narrator (or Jeff) steal? Among other things, an
investigation into the local pei poetry scene and philosophic
reflections on plot and characters in a novel (Henry Miller said in Sexus
that people have had their fill of plot and character and, besides
which, plot and character don't make life). Hmm - crunchy food for
thought.
I think you get the idea. As noted above but worth repeating - surrounding the usual, conventional elements in a novel, Unidentified man at left of photo
lets it fly metafictionally. We're treated to reflections on the nature
of narrative, plot, setting, atmosphere, characters (loads of
commentary on the women and men Jeff lovingly creates, appealing
characters who, in turn, bubble over with their own recollections and
stories), along with the novel in general. In addition, Jeff continually
breaks through the fourth wall to speak to readers about all sorts of
Calvino-like literary concerns. But, and this is a major point so heads
up, please – Jeff Bursey maintains a light touch from first page to
last. Very enjoyable and fun to read.
Enjoyable and fun to read –
much different than John Barth, a postmodern author most readers,
including myself, find turgid and ponderous. I enjoy Barth's much
shorter fiction - Title, Autobiography, Life-Story; however, novels like Giles Goat-Boy might be interesting for 50 or 60 pages, but, man, beyond that what a hellish slog, little or no fun at all.
Just the opposite of Jeff's metafictional multicourse meal of a novel, a novel I wholeheartedly recommend.
Canadian author and literary critic, Jeff Bursey
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