false2314809189044749897818904474968022Farewell Navigator: Storieshttp://photo.goodreads.com/books/1255964574m/2314809.jpg
http://www.goodreads.com/book/show/2314809.Farewell_Navigator_Stories
803005Leni Zumas802252falseWed Jul 09 00:00:00 -0700 2008Mon Jul 28 11:12:00 -0700 2008Mon Jul 28 11:14:15 -0700 2008 ...Many of the young folks in Leni Zumas’ stories are... trying to divorce themselves from burdensome emotional ties and consequent interference with self-actualization. It’s a testament to Zumas’ skill that the book, which contains dope addicts and stories set in loony bins, doesn’t devolve into a Girl, Interrupted for the pitchfork.com generation. She’s too smart to fall into that trap.
The title story tips us off to Zumas’ knack for crawling inside the heads of protagonists who feel trapped by circumstance. An unnamed son is living with his two legally blind parents, whom he calls Black and Blue (a nod toward some history of abuse?). This isn’t some syrupy Mitch Albom–esque triumph of the human spirit: The handicapped characters, who are usually ennobled in such stories, are creepy and venal here, capable of casual cruelty and betrayal — as when the son comes upon his mother with a teenage boy he has invited to spend the night:
Downstairs, a strand of noise from the kitchen — Blue’s voice. Please, she is saying. Oh please. Give me your hand.
Plum chutney comes up my throat. I swallow it down.
I don’t think so, says the kid’s voice.
Please touch me. Please, here —
I run in and hit the light. Yellow pours onto Blue, who is naked except for underpants. Her breasts look like puddles of dough. The kid is backed up against the stove, hands over his face, sweatpants — thank God — on.