4 minute read
THE GREAT PASSION by James Runcie
write a story about the city from a woman’s perspective—it’s “a place she had never wanted to go,” and as the story progresses, the reader finds out why. It’s a creepy tale that’s filled with a growing unease, and Rivera Garza handles its slow-burn narrative beautifully. A similar chilling surrealism pervades “The Date,” about an investigator on the trail of…well, something; it’s not quite clear. But it doesn’t need to be: Rivera Garza packs an impressive amount of atmospheric unease into its four pages, and the vagueness of the subject makes it even scarier. More conventional, but just as excellent, is “The Day Juan Rulfo Died,” which tells the story of a cafe meeting between two ex-partners who have “started to see each other just to criticize our current lovers.” The narrator, the reader comes to realize, isn’t as fine with their breakup as he initially lets on, admitting, “I wanted to own the world, the whole world, just to have the opportunity to wrap it up in wrapping paper and place it in her lap.” The story ends with a stunning final sentence that perfectly captures the post-romantic hopelessness and heartbreak that sometimes feel like they will never go away. The stories in this collection are as varied as Rivera Garza’s remarkable career, and this book is an excellent introduction to a unique writer who deserves to be recognized not just in Mexico, but all over the world.
A fine collection, chilling and frequently bizarre in all the best ways.
ONE OF US IS DEAD
Rose, Jeneva Blackstone Publishing (272 pp.) $28.99 | April 26, 2022 979-8-20070-684-6
A salon owner who serves the uppercrust women of Atlanta’s Buckhead neighborhood recalls the events that led up to the death of one of them. Once Congressman Bryce Madison has divorced Shannon Madison, who still insists on using his last name, and marries trophy wife Crystal, the first order of business for Olivia Petrov, the monstrous vice chairwoman of the Buckhead Women’s Foundation, is to get Shannon voted out as the organization’s chairwoman—a decision she announces to Shannon in the middle of a gala Shannon organized. Olivia’s second order of business is to get Shannon nixed as a client by Jenny at the Glow Beauty Bar and unfriended by upscale realtor Karen Richardson, whose husband, plastic surgeon Mark Richardson, Olivia has called on repeatedly for services both professional and unprofessional. But Shannon’s not about to go gently into that good night; Karen is busy falling for Keisha, Jenny’s friend and employee; and Crystal, who’s hiding secrets of her own, may not be the ideal new member of the frenemies group Olivia has gathered around her. As she’s questioned by Detective Frank Sanford, Jenny is joined by four other narrators—Olivia, Karen, Shannon, and Crystal—who take turns dishing on each other and heartlessly detailing all the offensive and defensive moves each of them made. As Rose sends her juiced-up take on Clare Boothe Luce’s classic play The Women hurtling toward a conclusion whose only clearly preordained feature is that one of them will end up killing one of the others, suspense focuses mainly on why only one of these eminently deserving ladies ends up dead.
Sublimely bitchy. What else is there to know?
THE GREAT PASSION
Runcie, James Bloomsbury (272 pp.) $28.00 | March 15, 2022 978-1-63557-067-0
A young boy sings for Johann Sebastian Bach in this richly textured tale of music and life. After Bach’s death in 1750, organmaker Stefan Silbermann recalls a part of his boyhood in 1723, when his widowed father sends him to Leipzig to try out for a boys’ choir under Bach, then a church cantor. Bach’s goal is to set to music passages from the Bible, specifically the Passion according to Saint Matthew, for Good Friday. He accepts the carrot-haired Stefan, who has a beautiful voice that causes jealousy and prompts bullying from the other boys. Early on, Stefan learns that the boys must do their homework or their teacher (not Bach) will “smite” them with a cane. He runs away but returns and spends time in the school’s prison for another’s offense. Then Bach invites him to live for a while with his family in a home filled with musical instruments and people, “a place without privacy and a world without secrets.” Meanwhile, Stefan finds favor with Anna Magdalena, Bach’s second wife, and Catharina, his oldest child. Anna Magdalena has a wonderful singing voice and blue eyes that remind him of flowers. As a woman, she is not permitted to sing in church. Stefan and Catharina have a sweet friendship as they chase butterflies together and he begins to love her, but she only likes him back. Though demanding, Bach is a kind and deeply religious man. “Without charity we are nothing,” he tells Stefan, “no more than a sounding brass or tinkling cymbal....We are all orphans before the Lord.” Yet the great man has a sense of humor. “You know that Luther wrote ‘Ein fest Burg’ when he was sitting on the privy?” “No.” “A musical prayer written midcrap. You can’t be proud when imagination strikes.” The story is rich in its descriptions of music, devotion to God, and the daily hardships of 18th-century life. And finally, this is perhaps the author’s best description: A man’s face “had a tinge of waxen yellow to it, as if an embalmer had started work but left off for his lunch.”
