I have been told repeatedly that the short story is anathema to major American publishing houses; that there isn’t an agent this side of crazy who will touch them; that you need the novel; that if you want to publish stories, well, hey mister, knock your socks off—just know you’re entering the ranks of the poor and obscure (I was gonna hyperlink to Glenn’s profile here, but, c’mon: that’s just piling on at this point). Enter Wells Tower’s collection, Everything Ravaged, Everything Burned. Though Tower has written both nonfiction and fiction for big-time magazines, he has never published a novel (i.e., this collection, published by Farrar, Straus and Giroux for god knows how much in terms of an advance, will be his first book). The title story focuses on a group of Vikings suffering from severe ennui; Tower tells the tale in modern American idiom, creating, I am told, an interesting and humorous contrast. I am told the entire collection offers interesting and humorous contrasts, insights into the postmodern condition, the introduction of a new and fresh voice to the form. Are these reviews correct? Exactly how “good” is Everything Ravaged, Everything Burned? I can’t say. The book won’t be out until March 17. But from this month’s Poets & Writers to Esquire to the Kirkus Review to The Atlantic to my brother’s fucking e-zine, Tower’s debut collection is, without a doubt, the most hyped and anticipated in my sentient lifetime. On one hand, I’d love to be Mr. Tower right now. On the other hand, I’d be scared shitless.
Rating: I-literally-could-not-tell-you% The title kicks ass, though.
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PS - The image is courtesy of every lit mag in the country.
It's about time someone took on the daunting task of exploring severe ennui. The world-weary poseur has been a voice too long ignored in the contemporary creative writing scene.
I googled "severe ennui" to see what it means and guess what: your review was number 6 in the search list. Damn Google is fast! You just posted a few minutes ago.
Still not sure what severe ennui means though. Sounds like something linked farting.
make that ...linked to farting.
Andrew, I feel that it is essential to tell you that I have tried to read the title story (in the Vintage Book of Short Stories or something) about three times now. I've never gotten more than a few pages in. But you're right; the title is great, and the buzz around this book is insane. Who's responsible? The author and his fine work? FSG? IDK.
How could a story about a group of Vikings suffering from severe farting not be a best seller? I've already put my order in to Amazon.
Hell, just learned that ennui does not mean farting. Sounds boring. I canceled my order.
Loco,
Which anthology was it in? I've tried to find stories from the book in journals / mags but no such luck...found one, "Leopard" online at the New Yorker. That's all.
I'm really pulling for the guy, and this book. I hope the buzz pays off and he sells a million copies. It could prompt Knopf and the like to reconsider the collection.
You're right, though. The hype has me wondering if its the book or if FSG has created all this attention on their own.
It's really funny to hear that this book has "hype" and "buzz" while I'm like, "wait, what is this a book of stories or something...?" Apparently this hyped buzz does not extend to me.
Laurie,
No, and it'd be weird if you had heard of this book. The hyped buzz is only for Loco and I's tiny, backstabbing and insular tribe. Be glad you got a real degree.
Don't put all your eggs in T. Wolff's mustache, Loco. Remember that.
Or E. Boland's genital mustache.
I'm not sure I like these old British commedies... I don't know when they're telling a joke and when they're just talking funny!
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