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When Sam Pulsifer was a child,his father left the family for three years. That was when his mother took to telling him stories about the Emily Dickinson house, located in their hometown of Amherst. Years later, Sam accidentally burned down the house, killing two people inside. He is tried convicted and sentenced to 10 years in a minimum security prison. Inside, he learns that the more he insists "It was an accident" the less people believe it. After Sam's release he creates a new life as husband and father--not arsonist and murderer--but it all falls apart when someone starts burning down other local writers' homes.
An Arsonist's Guide to Writers' Homes in New England is the type of title that always sucks me in with its quirky promise. Sometimes rather hum-drum books lurk under those fascinating titles, but that isn't the case for author Brock Clarke. An Arsonist's Guide to Writers' Homes in New England is at once a dark comedy and a family tragedy. Sam is an intelligent and often funny narrator, but he is, as he admits, a bumbler. He's a terrible detective, so his fire investigations are hugely self-destructive. I could see many clues before Sam--which I suspect is partly the point--but I was still surprised by the resolution. The novel raises some interesting issues about storytelling, truth, and identity. If everyone believes something about you, will it eventually make it true?
For those who, like me, enjoy books about books, this book is worth checking out. It's sort of Joseph Heller meets Jasper Fforde meets one of those "inspirational" memoirs gone wrong. If you're interested, you can read an excerpt at the author's website.
An Arsonist's Guide to Writers' Homes in New England is the type of title that always sucks me in with its quirky promise. Sometimes rather hum-drum books lurk under those fascinating titles, but that isn't the case for author Brock Clarke. An Arsonist's Guide to Writers' Homes in New England is at once a dark comedy and a family tragedy. Sam is an intelligent and often funny narrator, but he is, as he admits, a bumbler. He's a terrible detective, so his fire investigations are hugely self-destructive. I could see many clues before Sam--which I suspect is partly the point--but I was still surprised by the resolution. The novel raises some interesting issues about storytelling, truth, and identity. If everyone believes something about you, will it eventually make it true?
For those who, like me, enjoy books about books, this book is worth checking out. It's sort of Joseph Heller meets Jasper Fforde meets one of those "inspirational" memoirs gone wrong. If you're interested, you can read an excerpt at the author's website.
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