I’m starting to wonder what will
happen if I keep staring at these words, what will happen if I keep
reading them, what will happen to them, to me?
Will they slide down onto the scuffed Formica tabletop, slither over
to my hand, melt into my skin, ride my blood to my brain and burn
themselves forever there?
Gary Braunbeck, in the intro to Fran
Friel’s frankly ass kicking collection Mama’s Boy, mentions how
Peter Straub changed the expectations of a collection. No longer can
an author get away with something as mundane as what often amounts to
a “best of” grouping of unconnected short stories. They have to
have some sort of through line, some thematic connection. With Things
Slip Through, Kevin Lucia has taken that idea to its next logical
step, compiling his short fiction in a way that tells a larger tale
through them. It’s a heck of an endeavor that grabbed my attention
immediately.
The first tale of the bunch, “Lament”,
was by far the most effective and affecting one presented and does a
heck of a job of kicking the door off its hinges. Nominally, it’s a
story of repressed anger, violent revenge and racism in the wake of
national horror. Nominally. But, under the surface lurks a far more
crushing chronicle of the dangers of inaction and the guilt that
accompanies it. There is no doubt that Kevin is out for blood and
hearts with this one.
Then we’ve got “The Water God of
Clarke Street”, wherein an intrepid and witty young girl turns the
tables on an elder bastard in a way that slyly plays with the
development of abusive and exploitative relationships teen girls
sometimes find themselves in. And there is “The Gate and the Way”,
a nifty cycle paying homage to ye olde Yog Sothoth and the terrors of
watching family turn into something we no longer recognize. Ooh-ooh
aaaannd “A Brother’s Keeper”, where selfishness is repaid in
kind. But we can’t forget “Mr. Nobody,” where a young boy’s
salvation comes from an unlikely source.
These show Lucia at his best. When his
voice is warm and inviting, like chatting it up with an old codger at
the local hole in the wall bar. When his Serling-esque sense of
situational irony plays out as smooth as butter. When his characters
jump, living and breathing, from the page. Good Old awesomesauce on a
twelve grain bun.
But there are some problems. The
wraparound narrative, ambitious as it is, starts off a bit awkward
and contrived, making it harder for me to invest in those characters.
Also, the journey of our intrepid Sherriff does not seem to end with
much of a point. Perhaps it is intended to be a journey of finding
purpose, but the value of the purpose is not particularly clear (as
compared to the interior narratives of Gavin’s similar journey).
Also, it seems like some of the stories are altered to fit this
overall narrative, in a way that does not fit the story itself well.
Then there are some of the stories that
don’t stand up to the standard set by those listed earlier. For
instance, “Bassler Road” comes across as a pretty standard
Carnival of Souls type of storywhere the point seems to be
redemption, but the only temptation in the opposite direction is an
obviously foul demon. The conflict there just felt limp to me. “On
a Midnight Black Chessie” was an overall good story, but the
beginning, which seemed like it was supposed to tie into the end,
didn’t quite fit with the later portion. That created some
dissonance that was tough to get past. Same goes with the Deus Ex
Machina in “The Monster.”
So, yeah, there are some issues that I
think could have been smoothed out and some stories that I didn’t
entirely believe needed to be here. However, the collection overall
entertained me and had a couple stories that absolutely wrecked me. I
can’t give you a higher recommendation than that.
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