In another story, one
aspiring writer is dramatically taken by the genius works of Kafka. "I also read with
deep shame at the jealousy I felt: jealousy that someone should write better
than I; jealousy that another writer should say his part, then have his stories—
stories as timeless as a platonic form—sit on the shelf of a second-hand
bookstore collecting dust while I labored vainly, foolishly even, on flawed
nonsense, thinking I was producing great art." (52) With his idol holding
on to his last breath, the writer wonders if his writings should "be
printed and sold like vegetables at a market." (56)
This small
collection of stories is a well-written account of incisive wit and raw
sensitivity. I thought the writing style was reverent and intelligent with a
quiet solitude, but the stories didn't quite captivate me. While some were more
enjoyable than others, most of them felt "unfinished," leaving the
reader with questions rather than answers. And perhaps that was Dubbs' main
establishment in these works. It's clear that these stories contain a
philosophical approach that provoke critical analysis and pensive thought. Like the stories that ran rampant with no end,
perhaps this book would inspire the same in critical thinking, ensuing in a
torrent of questions with no answers.
My rating: 3.5 stars
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