Day Fifty-Six

5/27

The Book: The Stories of Breece D’J Pancake

ISBN: 0-316-71597-2

Suggested By: Bob Lopez

Where: Home

When: 7:30-8P

Music: Queen - Greatest Hits I &II

Company: Alone

Pages: 30-85 (55)

The Lead In: Yesterday I read the first 29 pages of this book and I will admit, I’m not sure what I think. The writing focuses on the rural parts of West Virginia (is there any other kind?). That the author killed himself makes the book a little more interesting; though, if the work does not stand out, will it negate that fact?

The 411 on the 55: The first short story focuses on a young man who feels lost in his home town. His life is full of memories of the past, some of which he has never seen. His dad is dead, his mom just sits and ages, and the world seems to be passing him. It’s sad, and good. It culminates in him having sex with an old girlfriend, but he fouls it up by asking to leave town with her. Game over. He resolves to leave for good.

The second story is about a coal miner who lives with a whore. He is about to strike it rich, he thinks, but she isn’t so sure. She gives up that night and leaves town. He wakes up the morning, deciding to lead a strike at the mine.

Third story was the best of the night. Down-on-his-luck tug boat worker wakes up needing to find a whore. He does, but she is super young, in her early teens. They do the deed and he tries to tell her she isn’t cut out for this work. She takes his money and leaves. He finds her behind a bar, wrists slit. Wow. Good story.

The last story of today’s reading is about a young man, again, without a father, trying to fit in. His “friends” and employer want him to go fox hunting, but he ends up trying to save the fox by shooting at the hunting dogs.

These stories are all about not fitting in, about discontentment, about being challenged (and for the most part, defeated) by society or environment. They are sad, clinging to the page as a testament to their straining to live.

Line of the Day: “I walk along the avenue thinking how shit always sinks, and how all these towns dump their shit for the river to push it down to the delta.” pg 60

The Fact on the Fiction: “As a graduate student, Breece took courses, taught freshman English, criticized submissions to the Virginia Quarterly Review, and saw more stories accepted by prestigious publications. He had also begun to job hunt in anticipation of receiving his Masters Degree in June of 1979. Then, on Palm Sunday night, April 7, 1979, Breece began drinking and, for some inexplicable reason, broke into a neighbor's house. When the residents returned and heard Breece stir, he ran back to his own house, placed a shotgun in his mouth and pulled the trigger. Breece Pancake was dead at the age of 26.” Appalachianbooks.com