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beardedbarista's review
5.0
This was a fever dream of story telling. I felt like I was reading a Wes Anderson film in book form. I don't read a lot of contemporary fiction and I honestly was so entranced in the first story I was taken aback when I realized DROLL TALES was stories! I thought I was setting a novel of human statue performers! I have always loved Smyles writing and social media persona so I knew I was in for a treat with this book. Lots of great perspectives and many of the stories have tie ins to others in the most strange ways. Definitely get some Dennis Johnson vibes from this book and while I am probably not literary enough to fully understand all of the book, this is one I will need to go back to. The title is wonderful. Short stories to me can be droll at times and I think that's part of the medium. Nothing ever gets too dark but just dark enough to keep you hinged on a smile or laugh.
Honestly I think my review is coming off a bit stream of conscious now so I'll leave y'all to it.
Go look up Smyles, buy her work and enjoy!
Honestly I think my review is coming off a bit stream of conscious now so I'll leave y'all to it.
Go look up Smyles, buy her work and enjoy!
tomatocultivator's review
funny
lighthearted
reflective
medium-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? A mix
- Strong character development? Yes
- Loveable characters? It's complicated
- Diverse cast of characters? No
- Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes
4.0
There's a funny collage on the cover of this book - two Victorian figures with the heads of African (perhaps) masks that look like they're old photos from a museum collection. A juxtaposition of manners and colonialism on a red settee with a background of airplane safety manuals and images of exotic cities. I'm not sure the cover is trying to say anything, but it knocks you off your guard just a little, which may be good preparation for what comes next.
The contents of <i>Droll Tales</i> sway back and forth between little vignettes and exercises (ie., a "Glossary of terms not found in this book" and a poem that I tried to read and skipped until just now when I realize that it's a translation of Stephane Mallarme's 'The Azure"... into pig Latin) and long meandering stories that mostly feature some number of women named Iris Smyles (perhaps the same one at different times, or different ones at the same time) and at least three Jacobs (all different). Most of these Iris'/Jacobs are recently freed grad students in New York City trying to (or putting off trying to) find their feet, except for one Iris who has just transferred from dirigible to Nile cruise ship on the run from her ex, and a Jacob who recently met a piece of granite who tried to sell him his sister/countertop. If you forced me to pare down my word count, then I might say half of these stories would fit very well into <i>The New Yorker</i>, and the other half would play very well in McSweeny's Internet Tendency. And indeed, Smyles has already published in both.
If there was one overarching theme, I think it would have to be (besides Proust) how love and art make us think and feel. Every character is very erudite where appropriate, and very stupid where not. And for the references that go over even our heads, well, the last page advertises the extensive notes and ruminations that can be found on the author's website. Most are very content with the fact that their creator has dropped them into an almost fully surreal world, and though the humor may not have often made me laugh-out-loud often, I certainly felt tickled in that part of me that for a time wished to be as well-read and listless as these students and chefs and the contestants on "Exquisite Bachelor" where, "Twenty Five surrealists and a Texan named Fred," live together in a Hollywood house competing for the love of an aspiring dental hygienist from North Dakota (get ready for the most Dramatic season yet!). The tone is very reminiscent of <i>A Confederacy of Dunces</i>, but I think what I was most reminded of are the novels of Eric Kraft - nearly-autobiographical stories except for all the made up bits, blending into memories and dreams and expressionistic instructions for flat-pack furniture. I have neglected to read up on Smyles previous work, but I get the feeling she plys her trade in similar waters.
Long story short, the opening major story about a woman becoming a human statue blew me away, and I spent the next 80 pages trying to find my footing. But I am glad I did. My only concern now is I can't remember if the final line of the book is referencing something that happened before, or a point completely new. I guess I'll have to come back someday and find out...
I was provided this book by the publisher through LibraryThing's Early Reviewer Program. My investment was nothing but time, so I hope you find my opinions honest.
The contents of <i>Droll Tales</i> sway back and forth between little vignettes and exercises (ie., a "Glossary of terms not found in this book" and a poem that I tried to read and skipped until just now when I realize that it's a translation of Stephane Mallarme's 'The Azure"... into pig Latin) and long meandering stories that mostly feature some number of women named Iris Smyles (perhaps the same one at different times, or different ones at the same time) and at least three Jacobs (all different). Most of these Iris'/Jacobs are recently freed grad students in New York City trying to (or putting off trying to) find their feet, except for one Iris who has just transferred from dirigible to Nile cruise ship on the run from her ex, and a Jacob who recently met a piece of granite who tried to sell him his sister/countertop. If you forced me to pare down my word count, then I might say half of these stories would fit very well into <i>The New Yorker</i>, and the other half would play very well in McSweeny's Internet Tendency. And indeed, Smyles has already published in both.
If there was one overarching theme, I think it would have to be (besides Proust) how love and art make us think and feel. Every character is very erudite where appropriate, and very stupid where not. And for the references that go over even our heads, well, the last page advertises the extensive notes and ruminations that can be found on the author's website. Most are very content with the fact that their creator has dropped them into an almost fully surreal world, and though the humor may not have often made me laugh-out-loud often, I certainly felt tickled in that part of me that for a time wished to be as well-read and listless as these students and chefs and the contestants on "Exquisite Bachelor" where, "Twenty Five surrealists and a Texan named Fred," live together in a Hollywood house competing for the love of an aspiring dental hygienist from North Dakota (get ready for the most Dramatic season yet!). The tone is very reminiscent of <i>A Confederacy of Dunces</i>, but I think what I was most reminded of are the novels of Eric Kraft - nearly-autobiographical stories except for all the made up bits, blending into memories and dreams and expressionistic instructions for flat-pack furniture. I have neglected to read up on Smyles previous work, but I get the feeling she plys her trade in similar waters.
Long story short, the opening major story about a woman becoming a human statue blew me away, and I spent the next 80 pages trying to find my footing. But I am glad I did. My only concern now is I can't remember if the final line of the book is referencing something that happened before, or a point completely new. I guess I'll have to come back someday and find out...
I was provided this book by the publisher through LibraryThing's Early Reviewer Program. My investment was nothing but time, so I hope you find my opinions honest.
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