“[David] descends the spirals of grief after losing his wife… With death and decay quite literally pervading his house and life, David finds himself both terrified by his situation yet drawn towards some obscure peace with it, as if giving in to a dark and fungal siren”

Amelia Gray is back with her third collection of short stories, Gutshot. As the title suggests, this is an uncomfortable book. Like, being-shot-square-in-the-guts level uncomfortable. There’s a man who vomits every time he speaks (and carries an empty pop bottle for convenience), mutual genital mutilation between a couple struggling to conceive a child, a family who carve up an over-sized heart with kitchen knives. There are giant snakes and desecrated graveyards and twins within twins. And yes, there is blood and shit and mucus in large quantities. 

As in Threats, many of the characters in Gutshot seem aware of their situation but unable to change, as if passengers on a train called Life or Destiny which they understand will arrive at its destination regardless of anything they might do. These are people caught in a strange stases, pervaded by vague sensations they can see and feel but not avoid, sensations which eat away at their insides until they are hulled and hollow. Opener ‘In The Moment’ is a good example, a story where a couple eradicate all references of the past or future from their apartment, removing all context from their existence and thus making life at once fascinating and impossible. See also ‘Away From’, the tale of a kidnapped woman who freezes at the top of the stairs when trying to escape. Reading these stories is like watching a fungus bloom across a wall, like watching a slow-motion video of yourself going up in flames.

This feeling hangs over the majority of the stories, even those in which the characters are decisive. Even ‘The Labyrinth’, which sees a not-so-brave man decide to be brave teeters toward a cryptic ending, or rather ends cryptically before any real conclusion. This is typical Gray, never quite giving the reader that satisfying click of recognition, the realisation of where a story is going or what it means. Good people aren’t rewarded and bad people aren’t punished and even passages that first appear clear allegories or fables skew into confusion. In ‘The Labyrinth’, the narrator, Jim, is forced to carry an (heavy) enigmatic disk through the maze:

“I don’t know about this,” I said.

“It’s the Phiastos Disk,” Dale said. “I paid a pretty penny so mind where you set it.”

It did seem to be imbued with some significance.

And so Jim takes the disk into the labyrinth without ever understanding why. Gray’s grotesque imagery is much the same. It remains important, vital, to her work without serving any clear function (ie. any ham-fisted metaphorical purpose), as if its meaning is so large it’s impossible to focus on. ‘Year of the Snake’ is set up like a strange and ambiguous fairy tale that never narrows down to some moral principle, while ‘The Swan as Metaphor for Love’ begins like an amusing love-is-actually-terrible gag before subverting the subversion, delving so far into horrible, biological truths that you’re left with an existential consideration so primal it registers as a taste in the mouth.

I could go on: ‘Device,’ ‘These Are Fables’ and the title story all seem to tee up some valuable punchline without following through, highlighting something that makes Gray’s writing so special. By not giving answers, or sending explicit messages, she manages to create characters and situations which feel real despite their surreality. Whether they have a device which can predict the future, an unending compulsion to say thank you or a prostitute locked in the heating ducts of their home, each and every character is vividly, fatally, human.

To review the collection as a whole is a difficult job. The book reads like a carefully constructed chaos too nuanced to be unified into a clear theme. Occasionally an image or theme is amplified by what seems like inadvertent recurrence, while other times they clash messily leaving once-clear messages and morals adrift in ambiguity. This gives Gray’s design an decidedly organic feel, each piece, ignorant of the rest, fulfils its own role as if it is the most important thing in the world, creating a system of blind parts working furiously toward some obscure goal, and giving Fernando Vicente‘s artwork a whole new meaning.

Gutshot is out now, published by Farrar, Straus and Giroux.

Seeing as we are primarily a music website, we thought we’d included a playlist of songs to accompany each book review. The tracks aren’t necessarily directly related to the anything in the stories, but rather get close to the same sorts of imagery and moods. Enjoy.

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GRNDMS

“Capitol Mill is proof that sunny little songs need not be mindless nonsense, and that you don’t need to write explicitly sad songs to resonate with the listener” – we reviewed the début album from GRNDMS, out now on Fox Food Records.

Eskimeaux

“About doing the best you can and hoping it’s enough, about accepting and learning and growing so that whatever hand you’re dealt, you carve out some semblance of meaning and happiness to make everything worthwhile” – Eskimeaux’s O.K., out now on Double Double Whammy and Mt. Home Arts, is a triumphant success.

Peptalk

“Peptalk paint ecosystems, thriving arrangements of geology and biology where plants and animals and wind and rain follow their own instinctive patterns. However, things are not quite what they seem…” – We welcomed you to the weird and beautiful world of Peptalk’s Islet.

Craig Finn

“Finn’s sharp turn of phrase… elevates mundane situations to something meaningful, transforming everyday words and imagery into things imbued with symbolism” – the first song from a new album by The Hold Steady’s Craig Finn.

Henoheno

“Emotional suffering is presented in a detached manner, as if the narrator has transcended into an outer body experience or else knows the pain so well it lacks the immediacy it once possessed” – we were delighted to premiere ‘Destroy’, the first track from Henoheno’s upcoming album I Made These Songs Before I Moved.

Kalle Mattson

“Strummed guitars and slow-burning drum machine beats which conjure a vivid, nostalgic image, like a city as seen from a dark shore at night” – ‘A Long Time Ago’, a new song from Kalle Mattson’s upcoming EP Avalanche.

PONY

“Sun-kissed and salt-lipped… four songs about romance and break-ups during the summer months” – we reviewed CRUSHED, the debut EP from Toronto band PONY.

Old Earth

“[Milwaukee] completely shaped and nurtured me. I grew up and spent most of my life here, so going from being a teenager seeing punk shows in VFW halls in the early ’90s to being an artist that some people know and read about in the city is kind of crazy” – Old Earth spoke to Milwaukee Record about the pros and cons of moving to California.

Kathryn Joseph

“I never felt like we were making something beautiful. I just thought my songs were shit, and that this is all really embarrassing” – Kathryn Joseph spoke to The Skinny before winning Scottish Album of the Year award for Bones You Have Thrown Me and Blood I’ve Spilled. We reviewed the album here, and certainly aren’t surprised.

Joseph also unveiled a new song, ‘the worm’, via The Line of Best Fit.

Jenny Hval

I feel a little intimidated at the prospect of writing about Apocalypse, girl, the new album from Jenny Hval. Luckily there are already some great reviews out there, we particularly liked these from The Quietus and God is in the TV.

Crosslegged

“In the past, my summers have been defined by the artists that manage to capture the heaviness of a muggy afternoon or the confusing side of a fleeting romance. I know Speck will be a record that falls into that special category for me this year” – The Le Sigh are streaming Speck by Keba Robinson’s Crosslegged.

Naps

“Finding out about Naps felt like being told a really good secret” – understanding that there can never be enough quality new music, The Le Sigh also premièred a new song from Florida band Naps (who we have featured on numerous occasions).

Frog

“Irreverent, strange and just a little addictive” – Clash premiered a video for Frog’s ‘Judy Garland’. ICYMI, we reviewed (and loved) Kind of Blah and spoke to Frog about their music.

Titus Andronicus

Titus Andronicus have released Sorry About the Delay, a mix of demos, rarities and unheard album cuts in preparation for the forthcoming album The Most Lamentable Tragedy. Pitchfork have all the details, including the link for a free download.

Strand of Oaks

“Filled with bite and sometimes regret, but also a good deal of warmth” – The indomitable Timothy Showalter visited NPR’s Tiny Desk Sessions. We have written about Strand of Oaks quite a bit, but probably still haven’t conveyed how much we love Showalter’s work.

And… our favourite 8tracks playlist of the week was this one by beneller (that cover art!!)

the ultimate summer playlist from beneller on 8tracks Radio.

The post Week in Review: #6 (15th – 19th June) appeared first on Various Small Flames.

Début album Islet is certainly a world of its own, with the band drawing upon their upbringings in America, Puerto Rico and Japan and to create a land informed by global cultures yet exotic and alien. The album artwork goes some way to visualising this place: a photograph of a world the band created in an old fruit crate they found on the street. The intricate scene represents the titular islet, a lush, nameless landscape full of arresting details and half-familiar echoes. So important is this fruit crate world that it features in the band’s live performances:

“The diorama itself is hooked up to a computer that controls numerous LED lights which have been carefully installed below the worlds surface. To accompany their live performances, this vibrant scene is projected behind the band, creating an otherworldly effect that envelops their audiences”

Only the musical world they have created is far more complex than a fruit crate and some LEDs. While many ambient acts could claim to conjure landscapes, Peptalk paint ecosystems, thriving arrangements of geology and biology where plants and animals and wind and rain follow their own instinctive patterns. However, things are not quite what they seem. While the components of the landscape are recognisable, their order is not. It’s like seeing jungles and waterfalls and deserts and tundras all in one space, pines and palms and flat baked earth, mammals and marsupials and other taxa as yet unidentified. Unsurprisingly, there is a supernatural edge here, something akin to Twin Peaks where elemental forces take on familiar shapes and every so often reality ripples like a curtain in the breeze. By the end the scene seems less natural and more technological, an experiment in some cyberpunk laboratory or else a complex projection engineered by an advanced mechanical race looking for answers. Whatever Islet is, it certainly takes you on a journey.

The album is out now on Home Assembly Music and you can buy it here.

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