I read This Is
How You Lose Her primarily on the bus to and fro work in constant state of vague
worry that one of the older Latinas I frequently sit next to who so nicely (but
very insistently) wave me over when the seat is free would look over, see some
word that I don’t know the meaning of but can sort of discern the naughty gist
of, and promptly hit me over the head with her well-stocked purse (that or I'd miss my stop). I seem to
always be reading or watching the wrong thing in public—like the time I watched
Somewhere on a laptop whilst flying
cross country seated between two men, one distinctly and unquestionable
skeevy. I’ve never wanted one of those
sweater things that at once encompasses your computer and head more than during
that first stripper scene.
I first read Junot Diaz in grad school. Drown (1997) was assigned for an
immigrant literature class and I approached the book without hoping for much.
The original cover wasn’t super enticing, looking more like a poetry chapbook
than something I wanted to read (all three of Diaz’s books have since been
redesigned to match and be all snazzy and marketable and whatnot) and, shoot me
if you must, but I’m not a short story kind of chick. But, that book won me
over (so much that I asked the professor if I could change my major paper topic
from whatever other book I’d chosen to Drown).
That says a lot. I said I’m not a short story kind of chick blithely but I mean
it; if you’re not Joyce or Salinger, I probably don’t like your short stories.
Sorry. Fast forward *cough* years and I have a massive crush on Diaz’s work and
the man himself. The Brief Wondrous Life
of Oscar Wao (2008) was nothing
short of amazing. So, learning that Diaz was releasing a new book this year (on
my birthday no less) only confirmed that I’d be visiting the local bookstore as
soon as I was released from the confines of work’s time clock.
The bookstore clerk commented that she’d sold a lot
of copies of This Is How You Lose Her
with the Domino magazine special edition “Best Rooms” that I’d also picked up
(she did not comment how many people also bought a Japanese blind box—which seemed
the more probable combo to me given the considerable level of geekiness we’re
talking about in Diaz’s work, especially Oscar
Wao) which leads me to believe that Diaz has many a fan girl (who
apparently also like interior design).
But, what about the book itself? After such a powerhouse
of a giant novel, I was disappointed that the third book is short stories. That
said, Diaz is a master of the short story and these are no exception. Like Drown,
these stories connect easily without being constrained by or reduced to their
topic. They’re all linked by heartbreak, cheating, and the apparently general
asshole quality of Dominican American men (not my assumption—I don’t think I
know anyone Dominican although I easily could living in LA and I just don’t
know). But they’re not linked by contrivances like so many collections. These
stories seem to naturally go together though they’re not about the same
characters yet they don’t feel stale although most feature the demise of a
romantic relationship. The stories also build upon each other and weave in and
out of each other in a way that makes the book feel more like a novel than
short stories—there is little of the stop and start quality of a randomly
assembled book of stories.
These stories retain Diaz’s tone, typical
characters, and that wonderful use of language that engages and plunges you
into the depths of the love and heartbreak of the characters, and
simultaneously knocks you right back out of the lives of the characters onto
your lily white (or whatever other non-Dominican-American colored) ass because
you have no clue what that word is or how to use it in a sentence other than
the one on the page in front of you, even if you do understand Spanish.
And, like any good relationship that simply ends, on
good terms but an ending nonetheless, This
Is How You Lose Her leaves your heartbroken on the last page, wishing there
were more. I can only hope Diaz has another book in the works, meanwhile I’ll
relish the author’s current media popularity (because dude is a seriously good
interview).
No comments:
Post a Comment