The blurb of Bloomland, the debut novel by John Englehardt, mentions a mass shooting at a university, and many of the responses to the work declare it an examination of gun violence. So, when an F5 tornado rips through a small town in the opening chapter, it is tempting to read between the lines and apply the metaphor from the beginning. The act of violence around which everything else rotates, forever rearranging the human terrain across which it passed.
But Bloomland isn’t necessarily that book. There is gun violence yes, but the act is not the void at the centre of the vortex. Rather it is just another element, lifted into the air by some deeper, older force. Something to do with self-perception and outside pressures. To do with America, probably, and men most certainly. A violence and grief that has always been there, of which the shooting is only a tiny part.
Englehardt edges further into the contemporary moment to reveal what lies beneath. With three characters—the eventual shooter, a student and teacher—brought to life in an innovative use of second person narration, he takes on not only the true weight of our struggles with identity, but also the systems that prop up those toxic conditions. And most of all, he employs a genuine empathy and compassion to create confused and conflicted characters living in confused and conflicted times, where communication is never quite possible, and intention is always lost in the wash.
Bloomland is out now via Dzanc Books, and you can find out more about John Englehardt on his website.
