account of this makeshift family—the sweet but fading Grandy, the two women who often see themselves as rivals, and the curious, growing, bird-crazy Pauly—and their attempts to live on and with and through a land that is increasingly inhospitable. A bleak, poignant, impressive contribution to an ever growing genre, the fiction of climate catastrophe.
sell off land during the Great Depression; and a mother, Marie, who is often bedridden due to depression. After their mother’s untimely death, the children are affected to varying degrees, and they’re divided over whether the death was an accidental overdose or a suicide, a debate which creates a rift between the siblings. Told in short, nonsequential chapters, the novel follows individual members of the family during significant moments in each of their lives: a teenage pregnancy, marriages and losses of spouses, decisions to move away, enlistment in the Second World War, and their own lives as parents. Some of the children are eventually pulled back to the family homestead after Jim’s death, and yet all navigate the distances—both physical and emotional—that have created lingering gaps among them. Kauffman has written a deceptively light tale about the heart of a family healing around a defining loss and siblings sustaining each other through adulthood, with lovely phrases and prose throughout. Though the sections are never weighty, together they form a satisfying story of complicated relationships against the backdrop of a “beautiful world [with] a forked tongue.” A comforting and pastoral novel.
CHORUS
Kauffman, Rebecca Counterpoint (272 pp.) $26.00 | March 1, 2022 978-1-64009-518-2 A large family grows up in Virginia over the course of the first half of the 20th century. The Shaw family consists of seven children; a father, Jim, who works hard on the farm but is regularly forced to
XSTABETH
Keenan, David Europa Editions (128 pp.) $20.00 | Feb. 8, 2022 978-1-60945-734-1 Music and the sacred converge in unexpected ways. Keenan explores that dynamic through a story about a father, a daughter, and the music that haunts them. The book opens in Russia, where the narrator’s father is a famous singer/songwriter. She begins a relationship with Jaco, a friend of her father’s whose music is even more well known, leading to some tension among the trio. Keenan—a regular contributor to the music magazine The Wire for many years—knows his subject well, and this novel abounds with allusions to numerous beloved cult musicians, including Donovan, Bert Jansch, The Seeds, and Jackson C. Frank. The artist mentioned most frequently is one with an affinity for the sacred and ecstatic: Leonard Cohen. The novel’s title comes from the name given to the music played by the narrator’s father—or, as the narrator explains, “My father and I are haunted by a saint....A saint called Xstabeth.” Many of the novel’s charms come from the narrator’s precise yet halting approach to telling this story, as with this look back on her mother: “She got murdered. I told him. I don’t know why I said it. She got murdered on her honeymoon. I said. I was twisting the facts for no reason.” Much like Keenan’s earlier novel This Is Memorial Device (2017), the book uses a found-document format. The author of the novel within the novel is dead, and what we’re reading is a version of a book from 1992, “reissued here and updated with commentary.” It can be dizzying at times, but the risks and esotericism on display make this a memorable read. This isn’t a typical rock novel—but that’s what makes it so compelling. 22
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1 january 2022
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fiction
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kirkus.com
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