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Thursday, September 06, 2007

Sept book: "After Lucy" by Dan Jones

Young widower Porter Ellis, adrift after his beloved wife, Lucy, dies of breast cancer, trades in her old car for a dilapidated hippie van and takes his two children for a road trip across the country. This piquant debut novel starts off appropriately quiet and torpid, as the ambivalent, grief-numbed Porter flounders before taking the plunge into adventure. Once the Ellises leave their Pittsburgh home and get on the road, however, the story blazes with intensity. The kids, Kaylie, 12, and Ben, eight, are up for the ride, but complications ensue involving Lucy's doting, affluent parents, who are understandably over-protective of their grandchildren and consider Porter's jaunt irresponsible and dangerous. Indeed, Porter, a frustrated artist with a dead-end graphic design job, has no idea where he's going. He and the kids are headed perhaps for Rocky Mountain National Park, but they stop at an Indiana ramshackle "RV resort and spa" established by Deadheads, where the major activities are nude bathing, smoking pot and listening to the Grateful Dead. There, they befriend one of the residents, Delilah, a pregnant masseuse with a gentle touch. Trapped by a bad hangover, angry in-laws and a leaky transmission, Porter finally confronts his grief, his increasingly complex and intimate relationships with his children, and his future. Jones uses humor deftly (the family is plagued with problems involving a cell phone) and sensitively portrays the anger, guilt, frustration and possibilities of renewal that follow the death of a loved one.

1 comment :

Anonymous said...

Whoa. I'm still coming down off those brownies, man. My lover wants the recipe, she's all jealous and stuff. (6:30:82 -- "I knew right away she was not like other girls, other girls" -- in the background, if they had some incredible CIA microphone or something, you could hear her going "Wow, your name's Jim? So's my old man's." Twenty five years and we're still truckin'.) It may have something to do with all the weed in between, but I'm still coppin' the cred to those brownies. Anyhow, outside of the same old same old, you gotta check this out. It's all over-marketed and that bums me out, and you know people will be going "Oh, man, I was into the Dead like in the 80s!" but even though there are some negativities attached to the whole profiteering end of this thing, it's still the best music lord, until the sun goes down, 'til it goes down... JimBob sez checkitout. Seriously. I just heard Jerry pop that string in the middle of Box of Rain at Winterland, 4:15:73, and then Bobby just tears into that whole rhythm thing he did till Jerry got another string. I hope they stop before Pigpen's solo, though. That was brutal.