Selected ReviewsUntamed Island (T. C. Boyle's San Miguel in NYT) Civilization has always had its malcontents: detractors who despise the rat race and the corruption that inevitably accompanies human enterprise. These idealists long to return to a simpler, presumably purer life. In T. Coraghessan Boyle’s mesmerizing and elegiac 14th novel, “San Miguel,” two utopians from different eras — Will Waters, a veteran of the Civil War, and later, Herbie Lester, a World War I veteran suffering from shell shock — establish their own private idylls on the desolate Channel Islands off the California coast. Both men seek to escape the horrors of their wars, and both, in their egotism and maniacal drive, ignore the desires, needs and safety of the families they bring with them. But the star of the book is the island itself, San Miguel, in all its glorious barrenness, its guano- coated cliffs and its pounding waves that cough up remnants of the frequent shipwrecks around the rocky shore. (A coffin shows up and is converted into a couch, then later is restored to its original purpose.) The inhabitants find the island pummeled by sandstorms and shrouded by fogs, only infrequently giving way to rare days when it is the paradise they sought. Selected essaysAugust 5, 2010 Originally published at I had always been fascinated by the Vietnam war, primarily because it seemed a thing that could not be understood—the closer you approached its various parts, the more the whole moved away from you. As a child surrounded by the urgency of war at NATO and then Fort Ord, it was clear the war was something frightening and bad, and in the way of children I associated the very name of the place—Vietnam—with that pain and evil. The problem was that when I grew up and read about the politics of the war, when I read the non-fiction accounts of soldiers in that war, my understanding did not gain in depth. I understood that war was hell, but I did not understand what we had learned from the experience, and as history seemed to repeat itself in other foreign conflicts, those places became new Vietnams, more places of pain and evil.
Essay done for the When We Fell In Love Series on the great blog, 3 Guys, 1 Book. Authors tell about the books in their lives that turned them into readers and writers. Originally published on 3 Guys, 1 Book "I’m sure that I was exposed to Hemingway in school, as a necessary and dreaded English assignment, but reading him left no impression other than he was a chore to be gotten through. Then I turned seventeen, fell in love and promptly got my heart broken (big time), and suddenly Ernest Hemingway became my best and closest friend."
Originally published in The Millions, April 30, 2010 (Warning: Images accompanying article are graphic in nature and not suitable for all audiences.)
The Millions, February 2010 The idea is that the reader is interested in a rags-to-riches story, as if literary success were akin to winning the lottery, or better yet, being struck by lightning.
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July 15, 2010
"Pinkville" |
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“The Sad Life & Miraculous Powers of Santiago” |
“The War Tourist” |
“Arrivederci, Goodbye” |
“The Sweet and the Salt” |
“Believers” |
“Angelina & Me” |
“Dorado” |
“Highway 1” |
“Unchain My Heart” |
“Shark Lore” |
“Hibakusha” |
“The Girl in the Picture” |
“The Restaurant of American Dishes” |
“Don-gonh” |
“The Long Goodbye” |
About “The Sweet and the Salt”
"This story broke my heart. It's awfully hard to write about people who are so disenfranchised and make it feel real, but this story does so in a way that feels effortless. The fear and the pain and, above that, the courage and resilience of the narrator shook me up, in precisely the way I want a story to. I was reminded of the work of Daniel Mason and Zora Neale Hurston."
— Steve Almond, author of My Life in Heavy Metal and The Evil B. B. Chow