“Further Joy” by John Brandon is a tightly crafted, well-ranging set of short stories exploring sadness, growth and modern malaise. Set largely in rundown Florida, it takes us through a series of unconnected lives, occasionally veering into the fantastical.
The books’ standout is “Palatka,” which takes us into the life of a young woman for whom responsibility has curdled—and who reacts dangerously to the seeming disappearance of her neighbor. It’s a rich marriage of setting and character, drawing its suspense all the way past its conclusion.
As the story tells us early on, “Pauline felt a mothering urge toward Mal. She had never gone through a wild phase herself, and so Mal’s carelessness fascinated her—her carelessness about things such as nutrition and education, but more so her general carelessness with herself. She didn’t seem to realize that a cute young girl shouldn’t treat her body and soul like they were rented.” But the distance can’t last, as Pauline eventually explores her own carelessness, to fascinating results.
Other highlights from the collection include “The Midnight Gales,” which centers on a religious community organized around mysterious disappearances from the heavens, and “Further Joy,” which paints a composite portrait of a learning, yearning group of high school girls, a la “The Virgin Suicides.”
We also have “Estuary,” which introduces us to a nice guy getting older, someone who’s hit that new millennium wall. “The little city I was living in was a few towns north of Tampa and a few towns south of where I’d grown up,” he tells us. “People wound up here because no one else would have them, because there were already too many lawyers in better towns or too many pharmacists in better towns, because they couldn’t afford to retire in Naples, because, in rare instances, they were born here.” Later he concludes, “I felt like I was using up some kind of capital living with them, all the credit I’d accrued by conducting myself decently. I thought I deserved a soft place to crash because I’d always been fair and forthright. I’d never cheated anybody. I didn’t lie.” But while that all seems to be true, in the end it’s not quite enough.
Like any collection, “Further Joy” has its misses. I never bought the cross-generation seduction at the heart of “The Picnickers,” although the story was successful capturing motormouth, self-centered teen dialogue. Similarly, “Skybound” seemed more a collection of concepts than an actual story.
Brandon has a great voice, though, and a talent for distilling years of observations in a way that feels immediate and believable. He does good work on the outskirts of things, where rough folks fix their cars under lamplight and more genteel people occasionally feel the compulsion to tread.
Additional Quotes
The Midnight Gales
“Prizes are demeaning,” I tell him.
He stays with his thoughts a moment, still gazing upward, then he looks at me. “Who told you that? Is that your mom again?”
“No, my father. He says children are motivated by prizes. ‘If you do real good, I’ll give you a candy.’ He says that’s kids’ stuff. He says I already should’ve outgrown it.”
“Have you?”
“I think so,” I say. “He says if you’re an adult doing adult work, having someone pat you on the head in approval is patronizing.”
The guy nods. He presses his thumb against his front teeth. “It’s patronizing, but it’s also how you secure patronage.”
Palatka
“Best I can tell, you’re a levelheaded girl who likes to sip on a beer in the middle of the day because it makes you feel not so levelheaded. I wouldn’t say you’re happy, but you’ve managed not to have anything bad happen to you yet.”
Estuary
“People who fail a lot wind up with a bunch of new skills.”
