The View from the Seventh Layer
Kevin Brockmeier
A week into the new year, I've finished my first book, Kevin Brockmeier's incredible story collection The View from the Seventh Layer. I was first introduced to his work after "The Year of Silence" was published in a Best American Short Stories collection, and the stories that accompany it in this collection showcase a similar emotional sensibility and Brockmeier's immense and unique talents. Though the collection is drips with the overly artistic tradition of MFA programs, Brockmeier saturates his stories with beautiful prose, and his language floats along effortlessly. This is a remarkable achievement especially in his stories that use nontraditionally "literary" genres, and his introduction of fantasy and science fiction elements only does a service to genre work, which Brockmeier shows can be every bit as subtle and well-constructed as mainstream literary darlings. There are moments in each and every one of these stories, even those that tug a bit too hard on the heartstrings, where a turn of phrase stops the reader dead in their tracks due to its sincerity, sorrow, or hope. Language is clay in Brockmeier's hands, and he is able to shape it precisely as he wishes with some of the best talent I've been fortunate to come across.
His stories aren't bad, either. The collection beautifully navigates that emotional space between sorrow and hope, so brilliantly interconnected that a single sentence can make the reader realize that a story is now operating in one realm rather than another. The effect of these already wonderful stories is enriched exponentially when they are allowed to marinade a bit, and their occasional surface simplicity unfolds to expose their true richness and complexity. There is a definite playfulness and humor to most of these stories, but this is balanced nicely with a hint of sorrow and, ultimately, these stories reflect reality with their mixture of the inalterability of the past and, yet, a delicate hope for the future.
In a collection with this much quality, singling out standout stories is akin to reciting the table of contents, but it is worthwhile to note Brockmeier's incredible range. "A Fable Ending in the Sound of a Thousand Parakeets" sets the tone for the collection with its final chord, and with its cousin "A Fable with a Photograph of a Glass Mobile on the Wall" adopts an overtly didactic story form and strips it of its overtness, showing rather than telling and being in the end far more illustrative and effective. "Andrea Is Changing Her Name" is a testament to love and loss that does not rely on the familiar clichés but instead shapes them to better reflect the layered complexity of emotions that unfold over time. Most daring is "The Human Soul as a Rube Goldberg Device: A Choose-Your-Own-Adventure Story," which indeed adopts that structure but which uses it to make a greater point about the human condition, with a delightful science fiction twist ending. This story, like some of the others, is entertaining as it unfolds but it is only after a bit of distance that its true meaning really hits home; this is, I believe, a mark of great literature, and these are stories that will stay with readers if not in their details then in their remarkable insight. Kevin Brockmeier shows that The View from the Seventh Layer is indeed one of loss and longing, but, ultimately, one of love.
Grade: A
Kevin Brockmeier
A week into the new year, I've finished my first book, Kevin Brockmeier's incredible story collection The View from the Seventh Layer. I was first introduced to his work after "The Year of Silence" was published in a Best American Short Stories collection, and the stories that accompany it in this collection showcase a similar emotional sensibility and Brockmeier's immense and unique talents. Though the collection is drips with the overly artistic tradition of MFA programs, Brockmeier saturates his stories with beautiful prose, and his language floats along effortlessly. This is a remarkable achievement especially in his stories that use nontraditionally "literary" genres, and his introduction of fantasy and science fiction elements only does a service to genre work, which Brockmeier shows can be every bit as subtle and well-constructed as mainstream literary darlings. There are moments in each and every one of these stories, even those that tug a bit too hard on the heartstrings, where a turn of phrase stops the reader dead in their tracks due to its sincerity, sorrow, or hope. Language is clay in Brockmeier's hands, and he is able to shape it precisely as he wishes with some of the best talent I've been fortunate to come across.
His stories aren't bad, either. The collection beautifully navigates that emotional space between sorrow and hope, so brilliantly interconnected that a single sentence can make the reader realize that a story is now operating in one realm rather than another. The effect of these already wonderful stories is enriched exponentially when they are allowed to marinade a bit, and their occasional surface simplicity unfolds to expose their true richness and complexity. There is a definite playfulness and humor to most of these stories, but this is balanced nicely with a hint of sorrow and, ultimately, these stories reflect reality with their mixture of the inalterability of the past and, yet, a delicate hope for the future.
In a collection with this much quality, singling out standout stories is akin to reciting the table of contents, but it is worthwhile to note Brockmeier's incredible range. "A Fable Ending in the Sound of a Thousand Parakeets" sets the tone for the collection with its final chord, and with its cousin "A Fable with a Photograph of a Glass Mobile on the Wall" adopts an overtly didactic story form and strips it of its overtness, showing rather than telling and being in the end far more illustrative and effective. "Andrea Is Changing Her Name" is a testament to love and loss that does not rely on the familiar clichés but instead shapes them to better reflect the layered complexity of emotions that unfold over time. Most daring is "The Human Soul as a Rube Goldberg Device: A Choose-Your-Own-Adventure Story," which indeed adopts that structure but which uses it to make a greater point about the human condition, with a delightful science fiction twist ending. This story, like some of the others, is entertaining as it unfolds but it is only after a bit of distance that its true meaning really hits home; this is, I believe, a mark of great literature, and these are stories that will stay with readers if not in their details then in their remarkable insight. Kevin Brockmeier shows that The View from the Seventh Layer is indeed one of loss and longing, but, ultimately, one of love.
Grade: A
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