It is not easy to get right the tone, intimate as well as detached, that Manuel Munoz achieves in his debut collection 'Zigzagger'. It is something he keeps consistent all through. One might tend to classify this as gay fiction, going by the few stories of that genre, yet it manages to elude that classification too, expanding its span to identity issues, loneliness and family. Firmly rooted in the Central Valley of California, where the writer hails from, the book etches the geography as well as the way of life of the people there.
Like the title story 'Zigzagger', which begins from a father and mother staring with concern at a young boy who is recovering from convulsions, after a bad night out at a weekly dance party in their conservative town. For the majority of the town of churchgoers, Saturday is a vile day, with some of them even complaining of their "workers swaying their hips as they pick tomatoes or grapes" early in the day. We are not told about what has happened to the boy until towards the end of the story, till when we switch between the concerned parents and the events of the previous day, right from the preparation.
Something about the tone and format of this story repeats in 'Young Lila Parr'. When we begin with a distant gaze at her and are told about her struggles following her husband's untimely death, through the voice of the man next door who used to till their land once and was later given ownership of a piece of it, we assume that the story would be about her. But then, it shifts. We realise that these are the thoughts of a grieving father, whose son's body was found the previous day in a motel. We see him wishing that the death was "more respectable, like a car accident". Both these stories are marked by the sexual tension that pervades through much of the narrative.
‘By the time you get there, by the time you get back’ progresses over awkward calls from a father to a son, who is now living with a man in another city. It is later revealed that the man became a father at 15, with the young mother passing away soon after in an accident. The call being made to the son now is for some money to visit his own father, whom he hasn’t visited in ten years. He wants to have something in his hand, to give the family while returning, as well as to shield the impact while revealing his son’s sexual identity to them.
Fluid sexual identities becomes the centre point of ‘Good as yesterday’, in which 20-year old Vero is caught between the love for her brother, 15-year old Nicky, and the not-yet-faded love for 21-year old Julian, to whom Nicky is now attracted to. The story has some splendid scenes of the siblings visiting Julian, who is now in jail over a petty case. But ‘Not Nevada’ did not make for a comfortable reading with a creepy paedophilic photographer as the protagonist, despite some interesting elements involving photography.
The longing for a time gone by is the all pervading feeling in two stories - ‘Loco Billy’ and ‘Anchorage’. The latter is about an old man, dumped back on his father’s old town, or somewhere near there, by the circus company he was working for. He reminisces the memories of an old fling, during his younger days, ruing for not proceeding it with. But one wonders whether all this sense of loss which he emanates is because of the love for her, or because there is no one to take care of him in his last days. A contrast is there right next door for him, where the neighbouring family is shown bringing back their old father from Alaska.