Thomas Mallon’s novel Finale is subtitled “A Novel of the Reagan Years,” and while it shares certain characteristics with his earlier novel Watergate, it takes an intriguing approach to the presidential figure at its center. Here, Reagan is presented obliquely: heroic to some and infuriating to others. Largely set in late 1986 and early 1987, the novel follows a number of politically-connected characters grappling with the issues and controversies of the time.
It’s very likely that, when you start reading Scott Adlerberg’s The Screaming Child, you think you have a sense of where it’s going. The narrator is a writer who’s become obsessed with a project of her own: researching the life of a doomed author whose own obsessions got her killed. The narrator is also struggling with the disappearance of her son, a mystery that looms over the proceedings. But the way these different elements come together is repeatedly surprising — and transforms this book into something unpredictable and revelatory. I spoke with Adlerberg about the process of writing this novel and the real-life inspirations for some of its most surreal components.
There’s a long history of people having one foot in the art world and one foot in the music world. The latest example of this is Monica Stroik, whose band Requiem, has a new album, titled POPulist Agendas, out this week. Think complex, blissed-out post-rock with a heady drone component. (The lineup also includes guitarist Tristan Welch and Douglas Kallmeyer on synthesizer.) The group got together during the pandemic and has continued to make work that is, in Stroik’s words, “media and genre fluid.” I spoke with Stroik about the group’s music and her own visual art — and where these worlds converge.
The last time we checked in with Kevin Maloney, it was around the time of the publication of his first book, Cult of Loretta. Now it’s 2023 and Maloney has a new novel out in the world — the fantastic, jarring, comic The Red-Headed Pilgrim. It’s both a comic riff on Maloney’s own life (kind of; see below for more on that) and a genuine tale of what it means to be a pilgrim in the present day (or recent past). It accomplishes the impressive feat of both grappling with some of the biggest issues one can grapple with and of recognizing the folly of taking oneself too seriously. In the middle of a hot summer, I reached out to Maloney to discuss his novel, the role of red in his work, and what’s next for him.
Time travel usually comes with the dilemma of whether messing with the past is worth it. It assumes you’ll have the power to change what’s already happened. But what if all you could do is witness the life you used to have? This is the time-construct Edan Lepucki built for her latest novel Time’s Mouth—where the most relatable consequence is at stake: the life you miss out on when you ignore the present.
Pure Cosmos Club, the new novel from Matthew Binder, goes full supercollider in the way it takes seemingly disparate ideas and smashes them together to create something wildly unpredictable. The novel’s protagonist, an ambitious artist with a self-defeating streak, dramatically fluctuating luck, and a beloved canine companion, eventually enters the orbit of the organization that gives the book its title. I talked with Binder about the book’s genesis, the collaboration inherent to writing it, and how his own experience dovetailed with the book’s themes.
For the last two decades, Jim Ruland has balanced unpredictable forays into fiction with detailed looks into punk rock history. Last year saw the release of his book Corporate Rock Sucks, a comprehensive look at the history of SST Records. This year, he’s followed that up with Make It Stop, set in a near future where the nation’s for-profit healthcare system has taken a turn for the all-controlling and a group of activists seek to dismantle the system via a host of techniques. I talked with Ruland about the way his fiction and nonfiction shape one another and his penchant for unlikely genre cross-pollination.
The guiding principle of Six Ridiculous Questions is that life is filled with ridiculousness. And questions. That only by giving in to these truths may we hope to slip the surly bonds of reality and attain the higher consciousness we all crave. (Eh, not really, but it sounded good there for a minute.) It’s just. Who knows? The ridiculousness and question bits, I guess. Why six? Assonance, baby, assonance.