LONELY VOYAGE
The touching story of a migrant family in When the Moon Is Low. Plus, twisted tales from Chuck Palahniuk, and the best summer reads for kids of all ages.
Sometimes a sliver can hurt more than a gaping wound. It sits there, buried under the skin, an unwanted invader stinging and throbbing away.
Attempts to get it out are met with the sliver digging itself in deeper, becoming a part of you.
The best stories in Chuck Palahniuk’s debut short-story collection Make Something Up have that effect on the reader. They burrow inside the consciousness like a misplaced shard and twist there for days, stinging. The images he paints are vivid glimpses into the parts of people most would prefer stay hidden.
His collection, assembled over a decade of work, contains a diverse swathe of writing that varies widely in style and content. Some are grim fairy tales with animal actors, while others are gritty, realistic looks at the dark corners of life. All of the stories are twisted, macabre kaleidoscopes filled with depravity.
The collection succeeds in stories that use a lighter touch — a deft application of Palahniuk’s wellwrought morbid sensibility goes a long way in Make Something Up.
The story “Phoenix” invites the reader to come on a journey to the depths of a guilt spiral. Rachel had to leave for a work trip shortly after a fight with her 3-year-old daughter. The fight doomed her to the silent treatment, but in the vacuum demons emerge.
Rachel begins to dive deep into her mind, dwelling on the terrible fire she was responsible for setting in her previous house. Her husband’s cat had been using the fireplace as a litter box. Rachel had been combing hairspray into its fur in the hopes of killing the creature and getting revenge for their daughter being deaf — something she blamed on parasites from the cat.
The silent treatment from her 3year-old wears away at Rachel throughout the story, which manifests as a symphony of guilt and exposition. The crescendo comes as Rachel confesses her crimes to her husband and daughter over the phone in hopes of eliciting a reaction from the youngster.
Other stories aim at low-hanging fruit with indelicate commentary on the preference toward ignorance in young people. “Zombies” and “Why Aardvark Never Landed on the Moon” send up the perceived virtues of stupidity. In Zombies, highschoolers zap themselves with publicly available defibrillators attached to their heads, entering into a life of blissful ignorance, while in Aardvark, ignorance is a choice made to avoid bullying.
The collection includes a novella — “Inclinations” — that pushes the boundaries of grotesque. A militarytype commander leads a Nazi-like gay conversion therapy camp where those unfortunate enough to be inside are forced to learn about the female body by dissecting a cadaver.
“Inclinations” pushes the boundaries on gore and succeeds in shocking the reader, but the effect is superficial. Palahniuk’s power is in those stories that dig inside you and leave behind a stinging sensation.
“Phoenix” is one of those stories and so is “Tunnel of Love,” a disturbing description of a woman who goes to a massage therapist to die. The story is a haunting exploration of her life and relationships with a decidedly Palahniuk flavour.
It goes without saying that this collection is not for the faint of heart. Every story is twisted in some way. The best are those light on the grotesque physical descriptions, when Palahniuk explores the darkness in everyday situations. Tim Alamenciak is a digital media producer at TVO, a voracious reader and stalwart book club member.