I encountered David Means’ work in 2011, when I wrote my first published review of his fourth collection, The Spot, for the University of Pittsburgh’s (sadly now apparently defunct) literary journal, so it feels somehow fitting to launch this by reviewing his sixth collection, Two Nurses, Smoking. We also happen to share an undergrad alma mater—the tiny but excellent College of Wooster—albeit separated by decades.
The opening story, “Clementine, Carmelita, Dog,” charmed me immediately. It’s narrated by a lost dachshund who actually turns out to be a wry, self-conscious narrator imagining the dachshund’s perspective. A later line captures this flavor: “Once the gun was in Norman’s bag, it was gone from [the dog’s] mind, completely, naturally. It wasn’t some kind of Chekhovian device that would have to, at some point, go off.” The book is rife with such layers and writerly nods, and for the most part, I enjoyed the ride. The downside was that calling so much attention to the stories’ artifices tended to jar me out of the fictional dream.
That caveat aside, one of Means’ greatest strengths is his ability to pair emotional to physical landscapes via balletic prose—both athletic and graceful—and this book is no exception. “Are You Experienced?” was another favorite for its ending, along with “The Depletion Prompts,” a story written as a series of writing prompts with the final page including a kind of a poetic manifesto for the book itself. This sounds like it could be terrible, but trust me, it works. The title story is compelling and formally interesting as well. Overall, I admired the book’s chutzpah, inventiveness, and technical range. While Means asks a lot of his readers, he gives a lot in return. He also pays the compliment of trusting us to keep up.
Read this book if you are a short story writer in need of a reminder of the possible range of the form; it will make you itch to write a new story with a structure or a twist you’ve never tried before. 4 stars.
I don't Tweet Jules, so I'll explain why you've won my interest sufficiently to Click to Subscribe by posting a first explanatory sentence here.
I'm subscribed because I like the way that you've experienced being a Substack Subscriber for 12 months, or so, and feel set to see if try flying the 'Three or More Stars' kite you've come up.
Bon chance ... and I'm wondering if, in 'Clementine, Carmelita, Dog', the dachshund ever gets to be aware of the other gun, you know the one hung stock still on the wall way above a dachshund's horizon?
Enjoyed reading your first review. Thank you Jules.