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Backlist - Storage Stories by Jim Bob

Storage Stories by Jim Bob
As I go, I'm attempting to catch up on those that have gone before, unfortunately in no particular order, but those for which I would feel bad if they were left out. Some, including Ismail Kadare, David Mitchell and Michel Houellebecq are already consigned to the mists of time, but I am confident I can still reach back and grab at a few key titles.

One such is this unusual offering from former Carter USM front man Jim Bob. Truth be told, it probably wouldn't have had the effect it did were it not for two things: 1) My mate Rob was a bit loony about Sheriff Fatman and whenever we went to the City Arms in Cardiff for a few whiskys, it invariably made its way on to the rather excellent jukebox in there. I guess Jim Bob simply inveigled his way into my brain thanks to alcohol and good company. 2) I read it whilst my wife was in labour and so had been awake for 72 hours by the time I finished it. This rather profound experience, coupled with the surreality of life in Jim Bob's mind meant that long after I'd finished Storage Stories I was fishing passages out of my memory obsessively, like food trapped between teeth and irritating the gums.

What we have here is a series of connected stories based around a storage facility in London, staffed by a strikingly Mr Jim Bob-esque character, and where we meet such soul-tenderising -people like Carl, bearded battery-licker and a man dangerously obsessed with performing surgery on himself. Carl's story and eventual resolution made me weep (inside of course...) but the pathos and humour with which it's told is startlingly adept, considering, and after reading it feels a bit like someone gave you the illusion of free will when in fact your reaction was pre-determined to begin with. In fact, even flipping through it now, ten months later, I find myself remembering, fondly, large cuddly understated parts which caused my tired brain to over-heat a little.

I guess that if you love Carter and all things Jim Bob, you'll not need my advice to go out and buy a copy (you can get signed copies from his website), but if before now you'd not given a tinker's cuss for this struggling artist, then you might be surprised to learn that this song-smith can also write prose, and write it well.

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Damned If I Do by Percival Everett

Where I should be recovering from a particularly nasty stomach bug, rather I appear to be on a Percival Everett trip today - first Strom, now Damned - but he really is that good. Good as in read-everything-he's-written-now good. Good as in I'm writing this on my iPad never more than two meters from the nearest toilet good. That's good. 

Damned If I Do is short stories, yes. That I have a curious relationship with short fiction is undisputed, but there are some like Breece D'J Pancake and Haruki Murakami that just have to be read, objections or no. Thankfully, it appears Everett has inherited some of their ability to write convincing, understated and ultimately addictive snippets of prose. And snippets they are. Somewhere I read once a quote from China Mielville where he says he just loves it when writers don't show the reader the monster in its entirety, that leaving something of the horror to the imagination of his audience adds a level of engagement and makes the …

A Death In The Family: My Struggle Volume 1 by Karl Ove Knausgaard

I sit here, wearing my limited edition Knausgaard t-shirt, immensely grateful to the kind people at Vintage Books for their surprising gift of the first four novels (and aforementioned t-shirt) simply as a result of being able to post a comment on their YouTube Vlog. There may have been a hidden agenda, considering I'm a book blogger (What, interrobang, a book blogger, interrobang and so on...) but I prefer to believe they picked me at random. Because I'm ace. 
Nonetheless, I had no idea what to expect of these books. I did do a little reading, and found lots of very interesting articles about Karl Ove Knausgaard, including this entertaining one in the Wall Street Journal. But in all honesty, nothing prepared me for reading them, and I can see why they cause controversy and consternation wherever they are translated (which is pretty much everywhere).
First off, being intelligent and perspicacious readers as I trust you all to be, you will no doubt have spotted the whole Godwin&#…

Breakfast Of Champions by Kurt Vonnegut

In days gone by, when repeatedly pressed about what my favourite book might be, a banal question seeking an impossible and crude reductionist answer to which I was usually rude in response, I would offer Breakfast Of Champions as a pacifier. 

I first read it in University, and it has, to some degree, influenced how I think and feel about a lot of things. Strikingly, I've never wanted to re-read it. Perhaps I was afraid I'd find fault the second time around and wanted to uphold it as a paragon of meta-fiction. Perhaps, but then I'm a relentless consumer of fiction and was always on to the next consumable work, never having time or inclination to go back.

So in the spirit of a more considered and thoughtful phase of my life I decided I wanted to read something that once made me feel good.

I'd clearly not remembered it very well.

But before that, I'm amazed I've gone *mumbles* years without once mentioning Kilgore Trout in my reviews, even in passing. The same goes fo…

Metaliterature - what meaning to have is this for meaning?

Not a review this time, more of a curiosity. It seems I'm receiving lots of hits from Russia (Здравствуйте России!) from people searching for the definition of "metaliterature". As such, it is something of a bespoke word, created to fit a need and probably not yet recognized outside literary theory / criticism circles (Merriam-Webster Online certainly don't like it). I was wondering what they typed in to end up here, so, for fun (it's not fun, sorry) I thought I'd bung it in Google Translate and see what came out. As it turns out, one needs a little hyphen for the rather ponderous machine to understand it, and even then only does half the job (meta seems to be meta in any language). 
Incidentally, below is, ironically, a Google Chrome Thesaurus definition* of "meta":

met·a Adjective/ˈmetə/
(of a creative work) Referring to itself or to the conventions of its genre; self-referentialInterestingly (not interesting, sorry) it says this for the full term, t…