The Monkey King's Used Primate Emporium and Book Reviews

previous - next - random review

Adam Haslett, �You Are Not a Stranger Here�

Started September 5 � Finished September 10, 2005; 240 pages � Sort of. See below. Posted 30 December 2005

Well, something monumental happened. Since I began this project, now in the closing end of four straight years, I had one simple rule. If I started a book, that meant I was going to finish it. �People don�t have any standards any more,� I�d say to those who asked why. They think they can just start something and toss it aside with no consequence. I opened a book remembering that, for whatever reason, I once decided to pay money for this. Even if I didn�t pay for it, I had stored it in my house and took it with me when I moved. Twice. That meant I had an intention to actually read it. To not do so would be dishonest to myself.

I read some pretty god-awful books during this time, and I read every insufferable, insipid word. I read horribly contrite science fiction. I schlepped around a five-pound tome of Atlas Shrugged reading every word and actually enjoying the process. I read every bit of nonsensical babble that spewed forth out Kerouac�s drunken pen. I read enough Noam Chomsky to qualify me for the university lecture circuit. I read UCLA scholarly reports on the effects of media violence.

Dude, I read entire volumes of poetry from Henry Rollins. I still can�t cleanse the stink out of my brain.

I read every single goddamn word from each of the 630-odd books I read during this time. Now, with this book, I can no longer make that claim.

Haslett�s book was given to me as a going away present from a friend of mine at our final show just before I left. She explained that she had taken a course with my Journalism mentor and this collection of short stories was on his required reading list. I can see why. Short stories for me are usually hit or miss, most of the time not having the space necessary to truly flesh out a character enough to make me give a shit about them.

Not with this book, however. Haslett is a powerful writer, and man, is this guy bleak. There�s some serious misery coming out on these pages. There are stories that reach deep into your heart with the sole purpose of crushing it.

As it happens, if you re-check the date, I was reading this about three weeks after arriving here in Hawaii. Feeling alone, scared of what was going to happen, wondering if I made the wrong decision and being poor, starving and overworked, this goddamn book wasn�t helping me feel better.

It�s not like one of those situations where you want to try and make someone else�s misery relate to your own � you know, like after you�ve had a bad break up and every sad song on the radio sounds like it was written just for you, until you finally drop it because you can�t find a connecting factor to tie your broken heart with The Police�s �De do do do, De da da da.� It�s that this guy knows the commonality of events that happen to all of us, and he knows how to exploit it to make us feel absolutely fucking miserable.

We all have issues or baggage. Some people deal with these things better than others, and I�d like to think I�m one of them. But I have an issue of my own that revolves around trust and honesty.

It wasn�t always that way. Though I was always, from back when I was a prepubescent teen, a person whom others could tell me their stories or problems and rely me to keep them in confidence, I was still the smooth talking player. I�ve mentioned this before, but it�s been a while and you all have short attention spans, so what the hell. What happened, like in all those bad date movies, was that I finally got played. I ignored the warning signs of dishonesty because it was somebody I cared about and wanted to believe they were telling the truth.

When I finally realized they weren�t, I knew how others must have felt and never wanted to be responsible for the pain that it caused. I think I made the right decision.

I would talk about the importance of honesty with me to others, and they would always agree with me � after all, who wouldn�t want people to be straightforward with you? Not lot long after, however, my best friend in the world lied to me. Not to be deceptive or manipulative, but because she knew the honest answer would hurt my feelings.

But it�s like what one girl told me a few years back while we were dating. She said that my reporter mind made things difficult, because I listened to her and I remembered things she said that she had long forgotten about.

In other words, I�m gonna get to the truth, and like a sexier version of Perry Mason, I would catch you in your own lie, no matter how innocuous.

Even when this friend of mine finally came clean, I wasn�t surprised. For the most part knew it was coming. But I was so offended that she would lie to me � me, her supposed best friend � that I completely shut her out of my life. In some sort of pompous way, I thought this was a fitting punishment, like it showed how serious the consequences were because now she couldn�t come over for bad beer and good conversation.

It was like that with the girl that started my honest kick as well. She had moved out of the area, so I wasn�t expecting to see her again anyway, but just to be sure of the finality of our relationship I burned everything that had an emotional attachment to her.

Yeah, I can be a melodramatic sonofabitch. Sorry.

But that�s how my mindframe was. I had a simple, but important rule involving honesty. And I considered it so important that this would be what made or broke the relationship.

For the most part since that point where I realized the importance of honesty, I emphasized the necessity of it with me. I did this partly because my friend, who at first tried to repair the friendship, eventually dropped it and moved on. She ultimately left me with the realization that while yes, I was hurt and furious that she lied to me, I wanted her in my life, and she was genuinely missed. My own pride and self-importance got in the way of all that. I don�t know that I would have done anything different. I don�t know that I would want to do anything different, as trust and honesty remain a very important part of my being.

But I did know I missed her.

The issue didn�t come up again until the crazy ex-girlfriend, who at the time was simply my crazy girlfriend. Something that started out very, very good turned sour and I eventually figured out that she was practicing a lot of the lies and deceit that I warned her against. Though the warning signs seem obvious in retrospect, at the time it came straight out of left field and I felt that same sense of deep hurt and betrayal. And again, it felt that the only thing I could do was cut her completely out of my life, which I did.

Between then and now, I was involved with a few people, both as friends and relationships, and each time I would explain my issues. Most people seemed to understand and if we parted ways, it was simply because we were a poor fit. But there was one other girl who brought all my baggage to a head once more, this one involving her feelings about another. Things ended badly.

And so now I�m in Hawaii, alone and lonely. It�s situations like these where you think back on your life, wondering how things might have been different and/or better under other circumstances. It doesn�t help lighten the mood. To take my mind off of it, I go back to reading.

After a few stories that fail to make me feel any better, the protagonist for one story has the same name as the third party involved in the situation I was just thinking about. Great.

That�s actually happened a lot since the original event. The third interloping person had a name kind of like my own � one that isn�t all that unusual but then you realize you don�t really know any other people carrying that moniker. I�ve seen the name come up again and again which I can�t remember happening before, probably because I had no connection to the name previously. Now, every time it occurred, I still became furious. That same name popped up recently in a video game I was playing and when it did I beat the fuck out of the character, only to reset the game so I could do it all over again.

Like I said, it�s an issue with me.

But back to the book. I shook my head, angry to see the name yet again, but still continued to read. It didn�t take long to realize that this wasn�t one of those cases where I was stretching to make the song fit my life. The story in this book was my life. Knowing how hard the author�s other stories hit me, as well as his penchant for unhappy endings, I just couldn�t continue. I flipped past the pages and went on to the next piece.

That�s my emotional side, however. By and large, I live my life glued to the rational flank. The rational side tells me that it takes two to tango, and any other relative clich� you can think of. You can�t pin all the problems on one outside party.

A decade passed since those first two incidents I described. This year, I reconnected with both of them. I was very glad to do so, and all bygones are gone. People are fallible. They should be forgiven, particularly when they are important to you.

Now that I reconnected with those two, I find that it seemed so easy. I wonder if we could have done it sooner. The sad truth of the matter is I don�t think so. These issues regarding honesty are important to me, and the pain of the betrayal still hurts to think about. That�s the rational side trying to work with the emotional. It�s reminding me that time heals all wounds, but wounds still hurt.

Then again, it�s been eight years since the crazy ex-girlfriend and I still have no desire to reconnect with her, so perhaps a decade is the statute of limitations.

Others may have to consider that as well.

---

I know some of you may want to comment on this, but don�t want to do so in a public venue like the comment section, so if you want to keep it private, you can e-mail me at arrghfuckkill AT lycos DOT com. Keep in mind that I am a reporter, so if you want things kept in confidence you need to say, �this is off the record� BEFORE you say anything. Before, people! BEFORE! Not that I�m a gossip hound, I�m just trying to teach you how to talk with a reporter scumbag. Like myself.

And wow. My e-mail address doesn�t look nearly as cool when I have to conceal it from the spammers.


Rating: Worth new. Let me know how that one story ended.

previous - next - random review