Jessa-Lynn Morton has a new crush: an elegant, mysterious gallery owner named Lucinda Rex.
Sometimes I hated the way I was, Jessa muses.
Evidently, the same could be asked of Kristen Arnett.
Credit: Tin House Books
Surrounded by animal carcasses, Jessa is left to see those still breathing with fresh eyes.
Fundamentally, this is a rock-solid family novel, brightened by its eccentric milieu.
(My entire adult life that man told me what to do, she tells Jessa.)
The author demonstrates keen judgment by getting out of crazys way.
She prefers stepping back and allowing Jessa to survey the action.
Dead Thingsis, instead, almost achingly warm.
The two grew up in love with the same girl Brynn, Jessas adolescent fixation and Milos eventual wife.
She abruptly leaves both of them in adulthood.
I could barely stomach my own memories, Jessa says.
I didnt want to deal with his.
The reflective, inquisitive quality of Arnetts writing is key to its success.
Shes a natural novelist because of her curiosity about work and space, gender and family.
She keeps her eyes and her heart open.
Thats what good fiction is all about.
Indeed, Arnett gives no element of her novel the short shrift.
Her sex scenes are steamy, volatile, full a treatment of lesbian romance that feels refreshing and rare.
The taxidermy setting is ripe for insanity, but crucially, its handled subtly.
Arnett treats the shop likework, too, mundane and automatic and mentally consuming.
She invests in Jessas relationship to the muggy, fluorescently-lit place where she vied to connect to her dad.
Gutted fish until my clothes stunk of the lake.
Scraped until my muscles screamed.
Being what he needed.
So the heart ofDead Thingsbeats: to the drum of the living.B+
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