David VannRecensioni

A disturbing and honest novel of mental illness and suicide; dark, because how with those qualities could it not be. My awareness of David Vann was created recently by a discussion here on why this American novelist is known and award-winning in Europe and Australia/NZ but largely unknown here in his own nation. Finding this book a few days ago at our local vast and semi-famous used book store in our University town, I added it to my haul (“nice selection”, said the bookseller after he rang up all my choices; maybe a rare American Vann reader? Not asking for clarification, I’ll never know).

Jim Vann (unfortunately, this book is an imagining of the final days of the author’s father, names unchanged) flies into California from his home in Alaska to see a therapist and be watched over by his family, his mental illness having reached crisis point. His illness takes the form of deep existential despair mixed with periods of mania, which to my inexpert judgement sounds like bipolar disorder. He is suicidal and seems to have undertaken this journey not with any hope of avoiding that course of action, but to find out if he thinks he should take others - his parents, siblings, ex-wife, children - out with him (see… dark). His brother Gary meets him at the airport.

“Please,” Gary says, his voice really pleading, desperate. “Please try. I know you can get back to your old self.”
“I’m sorry,” Jim says. “I’m not trying to hurt you. But there is no old self. There’s nothing to go back to. That’s what people don’t understand. There’s no self at all. There’s no one home.”
A kind of groan then from Gary, a sound of despair, nameless.

Jim’s pain and mania are both richly described as he lives out his final couple of days in the town he grew up in. He goes through a series of troublesome discussions and encounters with his family, an unpredictable companion who seems to have no mental filter anymore (“why are you being so mean?” his 13 year old son David tearfully asks him at one point… oh man…). His blunt questioning of his mother’s life makes her cry. He imagines murdering family members before turning the gun on himself.

This makes Jim sound like a very unlikable character, and, of course, in life one would be hard pressed to enjoy spending any time around this person as described. It’s a challenge to keep in mind that his untreated mental illness is contributing to his behavior and he wasn’t always this person. A discussion with his father, who shares for the first time his own fatalistic acceptance of living with deep depression, sheds some light on the genetic inheritance that has helped lead Jim here. And David Vann (the author) is a skilled writer of apparent deep empathy who can almost make Jim understandable.

The prose is weighty and complex. Here’s a passage describing Jim laying down on the old carpet still covering the floor of his parent’s home, of his childhood:

The dust floating thick above the carpet throughout the entire house, up to perhaps knee level in high concentration and thinning above that, an atmosphere in different bands. The nostalgiasphere first, the layer most dense, where he's lying now, a region of immense weight where time can slow or even stop moving and echoes of sound and smell and feeling can travel forever. Catfish with their wide tendriled mouths patrolling here as leviathans, fallen birds and smell of gun smoke and blood and everything grown larger. A place intent on suffocation, place of Bible stories with children ripped in half, towers falling, tongues without words, locusts descending. The sea parted and held back by a single human hand and the weight of that ready to rush in again, mountains of water overhanging and bending light and even the water smells of blood and can transform, all mutable here, nothing remaining separate or safe.

Incredibly evocative prose in service of a wrenchingly sad story, for many people. This is definitely not a book for everyone. Does that include a greater percentage of Americans than, say, New Zealanders? I don’t know! It’s a 4.5 star for me, because I just can’t put such a grim book up in my pantheon of 5 star reads, but it is an amazing work.

Gary decides to move himself and his wife Irene from their home on the shore of Skilak Lake in Alaska to an island in the lake where he wants to build a cabin. His practical skills and planning leave something to be desired and Irene has her own ghosts to deal with.

David Vann's writes some more about Alaska, dentists cheating on their partners, men wanting to live a wilderness life without the necessary practical skills, parental suicide. I like his style but I will look at some later books to see if he's got these themes out of his system yet.½

A dysfunctional and afflicted family in rural America is the subject of David Vann’s novel as he explores the background to his main character, Galen, as his mental state deteriorates during the course of a summer. Galen is not a person to attract much, if any sympathy from his family, consisting of his mother, grandmother, aunt and cousin. But then the same could be said for them as well, except for his grandmother who is affected by dementia, as all are hoping to benefit from the family fortune that she and her late husband built up. Vann’s spare writing takes you into Galen’s view of the world as he seeks spiritual knowledge while being tempted by his cousin’s sexuality and cocooned by his mother. The claustrophobic hold of the family is difficult to escape and means that the path to enlightenment is a hard one for him to follow.

En el año 1985, en un suburbio de Sacaramento, el hogar del joven Galen va camino de su descomposición. A sus veintidós años todavía no sabe quién es su padre, su violento abuelo ha muerto, su abuela va perdiendo la memoria y su madre es un ser completamente dependiente. La aparición de una jugosa herencia provocará la reparición de su tía Helen y de su prima Jennifer, quienes querrán hacerse con el dinero e instalará en esa casa un clima de violencia que no hará si no crecer y conducirles hacia la oscuridad.

2.4

Bright Air Black by David Vann was a difficult one for me. I love the story of Medea and Jason. I had the opportunity to read two Medea narratives while in college and the Medea story stuck with me. A woman who grasps power for her own by slaughtering her own children, after betraying her father and killing her brother, is such a badass story. When I saw this was a first person narrative and retelling of the story, I knew I had to read it.

This is where things might have gotten me in trouble a bit. I had pretty high expectations going into the book and the book was a tiny bit of a letdown. I write this because it seemed like 3/4ths of the book took place at sea. I remember marking my ebook at page 160 of a 200 page ebook, when land is finally hit and Medea and Jason settle. Things happen while at sea, but there were some odd choices.

One choice was to devote a few chapters to their odd orgy scene on an island where it seems like the crew of the ship are devoting themselves to Medea and her god. This gets a few chapters, yet it never really pays off in the narrative. So, I wondered why did it get so much attention?

Another moment happens when Medea watches someone fish, for a whole chapter. Fish.

The writing itself though is hypnotic and it flows. It flows so much that it is hard to put down because there isn't a natural break point within the narrative. There are chapters, but they flow into one another very quickly.

I also felt when Medea hits land and is enslaved, the book became a better read than the 160 pages devoted to the sea trip. I don't want to give spoilers, but she convinces the daughters of her enslaver to do something particularly wicked. I wish there was more of that in this book.

Sadly, I had to give this one 3 stars, but not for the writing, but for the story. Too much time at sea took away from this potentially great book.

*I want to thank NetGalley and Grove Press for the opportunity to read this book early. I received it for free in exchange for an honest review.

I read this on the back of having read Medea by Euripides. This is a modern telling her her story from her perspective. It starts with her & Jason on the Argo, fleeing from her father and throwing the chopped up remains of her brother overboard to distract the pursuing father. We then spend the majority of the book getting to Jason's homeland, where things do not go as Jason intends.
I'm not sure what to make of this. The sentence structure is odd, with some very short clauses and a number of sentences that don't seen to be complete. It is quite unnerving to read and that's before you get to the contents. Jason himself is portrayed as not what he made himself out to be. His behaviour all the way along seems to be to take the easy path through life, I think he's just too easy going to cope with Medea.
Now she's my problem with this. She is portrayed, at times, as so very single minded for something that cannot and does not exist in her world that she seems to be quite one dimensional. Which is odd when we spend the book inside her head. I got the feeling that Euripides admires her, fears her but secretly likes her. I got the impression that in this book the author fears her and that's the dominant emotion. She is such a strong woman that the rest of her psyche barely gets a look in.
I am a sucker for female perspective retellings of ancient myths, but this left me disappointed in the outcome.

Halibut on the Moon is focused on mental illness and possible suicide. Not recommended for those suffering from depression or suicidal thoughts. It is hard to say I “liked” this book due to its grim subject matter, but I appreciated it as an intense portrayal of the extreme highs and lows of what I assume is bipolar disorder.

The main character, based on David Vann’s father, Jim, arrives back in his hometown from his current residence in Alaska. Jim visits his therapist, family, and an old friend over the course of a couple days. His brother is asked to stay with him and safeguard his guns. Jim is obsessed with his ex-wife and sex. He suffers from guilt, despair, self-pity, insomnia, and loneliness. He feels worthless, disconnected from his sense of self. He cannot shut down his thoughts. This book constructs a psychological portrait that delves into the heart of a very personal tragedy.

I received an advance reader’s copy of this book from the publisher, Grove Atlantic, via NetGalley in exchange for a candid review. It is scheduled for release March 12, 2019.>

LEGEND OF A SUICIDE: STORIES rates a quiet and respectful wow. All about suicide and the far-reaching ripples such an act sends out. Author David Vann was just thirteen when he lost his father to suicide. Writing fiction has been how he has dealt with it. And the stories here are, no question, thinly veiled autobiography. Compelling and gripping, yes - they must be, because I started reading the book after dinner one night, and suddenly I looked up and it was nearly midnight and I had read over 150 pages. The centerpiece story, however - "Sukkwan Island" - is obviously an impressive, horrifying and very moving work of imagination. It is also the longest story here. There is also lots of local color detail, of Alaska, especially Ketchikan and the archipelago islands of southeastern Alaska. Vann was born on Adak, a desolate rock in the Aleutians, a onetime military base, where his father was stationed as an Army dentist.

What becomes all too clear in most of these stories is the father's mental instability, that he was undoubtedly bipolar, with erratic mood swings and an unhealthy preoccupation with (and a large colection of) guns - a deadly mix.

I was caught up by Vann's stories. He is a masterful tale-spinner who knows far too much about the awful effects of divorce, mental illness and suicide. Readers are hereby forewarned of his subject. That said, my very highest recommendation.

- Tim Bazzett, author of the memoir, BOOKLOVER

Jim emmène son fils Roy sur une île déserte en Alaska. Mal préparé et dépressif, le père cumule les erreurs sur le campement et avec son fils… jusqu’au drame. S’ensuit la folie que nulle rédemption ne semblerait pouvoir apaiser.

Le plus sombre au cœur du Grand Nord. Une sorte de Jack London revisité par les anges de l’enfer de la dépression aux ailes poisseuses d’une boue visqueuse de tristesse (vous êtes prévenus)

Read it in two gulps. Tense, touching, spare - he is a master of dread and resolution. The ending was a bit too pat and positive and obviously explained, but a very good novel.

SF Chron best of 2012

A twelve-year old Seattle girl (Caitlin), lives in borderline poverty, with her single mom (Sheri.) With her mother's long hours at a container shipping facility, Caitlin spends her afternoons wandering at the aquarium, learning and imagining. Her mother's life seems to be headed in a good direction with a new boyfriend, when deeply-buried family secrets ruin everything. Vann's illustrations were excellent, and I liked this book much better than the recently published My Grandmother Asked Me to Tell You She's Sorry, which had similar themes. I found Caitlin to be very sympathetic, quite mature, but believably so.

Be forewarned, this is one depressing read. The characters are somewhat tragi-comic, stubbornly persisting in creating the most miserable lives for themselves.

This is a beautiful book -- just in appearance alone. It contains some colored ink, but also some beautiful color photographs of aquarium fish. They are metaphors for various aspects of 12-yr old Caitlin's life and she is mesmerized by their colors, shapes and functions. "Metamorphosis is the greatest beauty." (65) Caitlin is the only child of single mom, Sheri who has more baggage than a jumbo jet. Sheri has kept them afloat and safely away from her past by sheer force of will. However, Caitlin inadvertently disturbs that fragile balance and changes the fabric of her family forever. Told from Caitlin's view point, it rings true from the limited understanding she has of the adult issues around her -- that reminded me of Room by Emma Donaghue. "The worst part of childhood is not knowing that bad things pass. That time passes. A terrible moment in childhood hovers with a kind of eternity, unbearable." However, that's also my criticism -- Caitlin is a little too innocent for a 12 year old. 10 or 11 would've been more believable.

Incredible!

Thanks to Netgalley for this ARC!

I knew I was going to get a retelling of Medea from her point of view during the quest of The Golden Fleece and after, with Jason, but I wasn't quite prepared for just how beautiful the lines of the text were. I mean, getting it all from the PoV of Medea was a pretty awesome treat, all by itself, and found myself fully in her camp despite all the awful things she does, but what really caught my attention, even more, was the prose.

This is some true mythopoetical realism, yo.

I will admit that there were some parts during the first half of the text that could have been improved, at least making the text more accessible those who haven't studied up on the old legends and the plays, for so much of the action has already happened right when the prose opens up. I'm not going to complain too much, however, because even though it assumes the audience is conversant with the legend, it doesn't really matter after a certain amount of time.

Yes, we know Medea is a bad-ass, willing to tear the world down to prevent her slide into slavery. She's a beast willing to rend to keep herself out of chains.

I particularly love how the author managed to turn someone like this into a heroic figure even more than half the time, and even when she's doing her most evil deeds, I feel for her and want to cheer her on.

That's a real feat.

Is this niche? Or does this have all the feel of Big Magical Realism for Mainstream? I don't know, but it could certainly go either way. :) I enjoyed it very much, too.

Update 2/3/17:

After some deep reflection, I had to change the rating from a four to a five star. The language keeps with me after all this time and the shape of the story keeps getting better. The aftertaste, so to speak. :)

It has NOTHING (much) to do with complaints from other reviewers (Trish). I do this on my own (mostly).

David Vann is on holiday in Turkey when he comes across a 90-foot yacht for sale. In an impetuous moment, he decides that this boat will be the one that helps him fulfil his long-held desire to own a boat of his own. He manages to raise $150,000 after begging and borrowing money from family and friends and maxing out his credit cards and sets about repairing and renovating the boat. The only problem is that the guy who runs the boatyard sees him as an easy target and ends up charging him half a million dollars for what is frankly an appalling job. With his out of control debt and the stress of everything, he wonders if he is going to follow the same tragic path as his father
But finally, he has his boat and the beginnings of a business. Sailing with a crew they are hit by a huge storm that destroys their rudder. Helpless and at the mercy of the storm, a ship comes alongside to tow them to safety. Alive but boat less, he manages to forget about anything marine for a while until another opportunity arises and he buys another boat.

There were some parts about this book that I liked and there was a fair amount that grated. You could tell he was going to be ripped off from day one on his renovations on the vessel, and whilst you need to trust those that are doing work for you, he seemed to have an unbelievable level of naivety. What salvages the book though is the description and drama of what are completely terrifying moments of almost-disaster at sea. It is worth reading just for those parts. Overall not bad, but not great.

Having read this author's work before, I knew not to expect a comfortable read. I was surprised to find it short listed for the Ockham NZ Book Awards 2020, but it turns out he has chosen to make New Zealand his home.
The main protagonist of this book is Jim Vann, who is flying from his home in Fairbanks, Alaska to his birth place, California to seek psychiatric help. He is deeply depressed and suicidal. His brother Gary meets him and drives him to his first appointment. Gary is shocked by his big brother's mental state. He always looked up to Jim, a dentist by profession as was their father. But Jim now has two failed marriages behind him and is in debt to the IRS. The narrative takes us inside the head of Jim and follows him over two days. Gary has been told to not let him out of his sight and to keep him away from his gun which he has brought with him. His actions over those days are deeply disturbing to his immediate family and close friend.
This book is harrowing but I read it very quickly as I needed to know the outcome.
It is also clear that once again David Vann has written a book based on personal experience. His father committed suicide when David was 10 years old and in this story Jim's son is David. There are other overlaps as well. This is very well written, but not for the faint-hearted and despite the author being eligible to enter the NZ book awards, I wouldn't like to see it win as it has no connection to New Zealand. However, there is increasing awareness of depression and suicide in New Zealand at present, so this could potentially be chosen.

Bright Air Black requires and rewards rapt attention. Like every other Vann novel the writing is a unique mix of poetry and viscera. There is really no one else who writes like this. There is no one else who could have so deeply imagined Medea murdering her brother on the deck of Jason's ship, as she flees with Jason from her father's wrath. The moment where she cuts her brother's throat, which she does without hesitation but while looking into his eyes, loving him, is moving and also very disturbing. Chapters later she scrapes her brother's remains from where they have congealed on the deck, and Vann's meticulous care in describing this scene would be remarkable all on its own, but these scenes and their remarkableness just keep coming, one following another.

I don't think the style is similar but in its revivification of an ancient and familiar story it reminds me of [b:The Gospel According to Jesus Christ|28859|The Gospel According to Jesus Christ|José Saramago|https://images.gr-assets.com/books/1519393758s/28859.jpg|2338253] by Saramago.

In David Vann’s novel, the harsh Alaskan landscape and its weather seems to have a depressing effect upon its inhabitants, many of whom appear to regret coming to Soldotna and dream of escaping. The chilling atmosphere seems to also seep over into the relationships between people, typified by Irene’s increasing antipathy towards her husband, Gary. His projects have all had a habit of going wrong and his latest, to build them a cabin on the uninhabited Caribou Island, fills Irene with foreboding and contributes to her feeling very unwell. She has never recovered form her father leaving the family when she was small and her mother’s subsequent suicide and she also worries that her daughter, Rhoda, is repeating the family’s path of loveless marriages.
Vann’s sparse prose captures the bleakness of the setting and the people, leading to a dramatic and revealing finale.

Not my cup of tea½

Well David Vann has taken the dysfunctional family to a whole new level with this book.
22 year old Galen lives with his Mum as she insists they cannot afford for him to go away to college. He has become a self-absorbed, bulemic, anorexic who spends his day trying to alternately relieve his sexual tension or transcend to another dimension. As the story progresses we discover that the grandmother has been removed to a home, as she is developing alzheimers and his Aunt Helenand 17 year old cousin have left as well. His mother now has control of the granmother's finances. aunt Helen reveals that there is millions and Galen's mother, by not sharing this money has control over the family. The Aunt and cousin become increasingly violent and the cousin seduces Galen into having sex with her. The family are seriously sick in their behaviour towards each other. The reader becomes aware that the deceased grandfather sexually abused his daughters and was physically abusing the grandmother. The resulting family dynamics are his legacy.
I didn't like this book. I felt that it lacked Vann's usual tension building plot and outcome. One to get rid of ...½

David Vann organizaba cruceros y chárteres educativos a bordo de su velero. En una de estas travesías su navío, averiado, quedó varado en Puerto Madero, un enclave dejado de la mano de Dios, centro del narcotráfico mexicano y territorio de prostitutas y policías corruptos. El increíble calvario que vivió el autor para intentar rescatar su barco hacen de estas memorias un thriller de alto voltaje. A lo largo de varias semanas de parada obligada, David Vann ha de lidiar con un grupo de piratas que asaltan la embarcación, un extravagante intérprete local, un fastidioso y arrogante comandante portuario, un capo que sueña con la Isla de Pascua, una seductora joven que juega a volverle loco y un trío de prostitutas, persuasivas como sirenas, que, junto a niños mendicantes y pescadores ebrios, visitan a diario el velero varado. Vann, al que ya todos los lugareños conocen como el «Cajero Automático», subestima de lo que este lugar es capaz, llegando a poner varias veces su vida en peligro. Cuando finalmente se encuentra tumbado en el suelo con una pistola apuntándole a la cara se ve obligado a tomar una última decisión.

A collection of short stories and one novella inspired the author's attempts to come to terms with his father's suicide when he (the author) was in his teens.

The author is very good at describing the natural and human scenery in which the stories are set. I enjoyed the novella the most because it did actually tell a story, while the short stories were more like snapshots with something added to provoke classroom discussion.