Spiritless but Actually Not

by Kyle Mitchell

Twenty-two literary artifacts. Exceptionally bleak. And then impossibly: Sublime.

A picture of contemporary existence painted with strokes of rawest emotion—contained herein is everything you were told you weren’t supposed to feel. With self-recognition as you stray from the identity thrust upon you in your youth—now your own guilt and horror—find yourself reacting to a world which couldn’t give any less of a fuck about you. You swore you never would, but you’re becoming violent, and extraordinarily upset.

What do all these disparate experiences share? What overlaps between the Berkeley quantum physicist (with his intention for apotheotic omnipotence), and that of the adderall-addled teenager suffering through pre-calc?

What’s the difference in the existential horror experienced by a conservative father exercising his god-given right to purchase a barbecue to feed his suburban nuclear family… and that of the contemporary descendant of a barely extant native culture, peering from a mountaintop into suburbia and badtripping not on drugs but existence itself?

Yes, how many gods and belief systems were culled so that we could have this rendition of society, this contemporary dystopia with its incessant drip of joy, joy, joy?

And more joy?

Genres: Contemporary

491 pages, Paperback

Published June 16, 2022

Reviews

[Baba · Rating 1 out of 5]

Twenty-two short stories mostly frantic, and voiced by people (mostly young White males) with some sort of technically undiagnosed mental and/or psychological condition in a sort 'a day in the life of' scenario where the topics vary from sex and drug taking to philosophical thoughts and finding a way to survive. Even though the writer was very kind enough to send me a copy of this book in exchange for a fair review, no matter how I try to be fair, I found this a very difficult read to find anything to like about it!

With so many characters swearing all the effing time, being sex obsessed but in a juvenile way and there being a distinct lack in any real characterisation - almost every character had the same voice, after around the third story I lost interest and didn't care about any of the people in this! To make it worse / or better, Kyle's a great writer. Maybe being a 50+ year old Black man I just couldn't find anything in this for me; then again as a former club promoter and DJ, I really think I should have. BUT, maybe this was not just for me so here's a link to another take, a cool five-star review on this book. Old man me, just gives this a one-star, 2 out of 12, but what do I know? This might be s stellar read for younger more 'hip' readers.

One last thing, I feel some writers really think us reviewers get a kick out of giving negative reviews. We don't! It's really difficult, we appreciate being sent review copies; I did everything I could on this one, in honesty this was a DNF for me, but I gave up my time to read all 491 pages. We, us reviewers, just can't lie to thank writers for sending us books, as that would defeat the entire idea of who we are and what we do. Thank you so much for sending me this Kyle, it's just not for me. I was drawn in by the Amazon and Goodreads' reviews that you sent me.

2023 read

[Kealyn · Rating 3 out of 5]

First of all I want to thank the author for reaching out to me and asking me to read and review his book. I feel absolutely honored, so thank you. 

This book is a very difficult book for me to review. My thoughts are all over the place. And I am not sure where to begin. 

The first chapter of the book is a very draining chapter. The main protagonist is very loud. It felt like he was right up in my face and yelling at me at the top of his lungs. Screaming for attention in the most draining ways possible. A part of me felt like he never, ever got to experience a genuine connection. And that later in life, all he wanted was that, but because he lacked the tools to connect with another human being - he was unable to fulfill that need in him. 
But the way the chapter was written. Sometimes I ache for characters like that. And even though it is draining, I am invested. But in this chapter. I longed for it to be over. So that I could catch my breath and heal myself.
I am wondering if Kyle Mitchell wrote the chapter deliberately like that. If so, then he nailed it. If not, then I truly missed a bit of detail, so that I, as a reader could connect with the character.

This book consists of several different stories. If I remember correctly there are 22 chapters. And all the chapters have emotionally scared and burdened characters in them. 

There was a chapter about a girl who is a stripper. She meets Paul and they connect. This was a chapter that felt a little bit softer. She whispers her number. And he promises he'll remember it. 
But it felt almost surreal. Did they truly connect? Or was one or the other using the other one? Was it a final blow towards the other one? 

In this book the author gives us a lot of room to interpret the story the way we want it. I enjoyed that a lot in a certain way. 
In another way I longed for closure and more detailed endings. 

There are few longer chapters in this book. But for the most those chapters felt too long for me. It was a lot of repetitive thoughts and behaviour. The characters didn't seem to make any progress. 
Again I wonder if the author did that on purpose. Like were all the characters severely depressed and just weren't able to make any progress in life? And that the author wanted us to feel that depression. That he wanted us to feel stuck and sad and lonely and incredibly insane. 
I wished the longer chapters were shortened and packed a punch. 

I think that might be the key thing I missed in this book. A Punch. I don't mind draining books. I love them. But most of the time, those kinda books do give something back. This book did not. Again I wonder, was it on purpose or not? 
But now that I am thinking about it, I do wish we got something in return. 

But there are slivers of hope as well. Like a coach who encourages all his players to play in a game. 

At times I was all consumed by hatred, pain and sadness. 

And a few chapters, it almost felt like it was non-fiction instead of fiction. I am not a non-fiction reader. So those chapters felt very factual and emotionless. 

The chapter where a character uses seroquel hit close to home. Because I have experience with that. At times it felt very one sided. But then I scolded myself, this is the character's experience with seroquel. Not my own. And it is FICTION Kealyn! 

Now that I am looking back at it. The chapter about one character watching porn felt so weird. But now I have a huge grin on my face. It felt so out of place. But now I'm thinking back. And I realize I did enjoy that. 

So yeah, the overall vibe of the book is that it describes lots of pain, longing, madness, hope and a sense of loss. 
Like I said before, I wish some chapters were more shortened. And I missed the huge tada moment. 
But as I keep on repeating myself. Was that done deliberately? 

I think I'll really reach out to the author and ask if that is the case or not. 

But I cannot deny it took a toll on me. It's so weird. I feel like I explained everything so poorly. 
I'll definitely come back to this review at some point. And maybe adjust it, if things are clearer in my mind. I just need some mental rest. 

So 3 stars from me for now. It sure is an interesting book. If you love to figure out characters, figuring out how mental illness works. Then pick this one up. It has a lot of characters who you can dissect. 

[Shane · Rating 3 out of 5]

I received a copy of this book from the author because he had discovered my proclivity to read and/or review edgy literature. My interest was raised because I am always curious to find out what new literary forms are in the pipeline. I was blown away by this one.

Although dubbed a novel, this is a collection of 22 short stories. We also get a copious but unindexed set of Notes at the end in which we get more story-like passages and an explanation from the author as to why he has written this nearly-500-page tome and his remedy for all that ails his characters.

In the stories, written in stream-of-consciousness style, the author does not lack for verbosity, lingual dexterity, and anger. Yes, all these 20-something characters are in various states of drug or alcohol induced despair and anger. They hate the establishment (yet live off its largesse), they want to commit suicide yet don’t, because there is a life force holding them to this “fucked-up world.” Yes, and the four-letter expletive is used so extensively, I wondered whether all of them would develop a permanent stutter if that word were taken out of their vocabulary. And their sexual habits include urolagnia and coprophilia, and for a moment I wondered whether the author was copying Thomas Pynchon. These are not characters I could identify or empathize with, in fact, I wanted to say, “If you want to ‘off’ yourself so badly, get on with it. There are more starving but grateful people out there.” But if they represent the “opioid generation,” then it is a sorry indictment on where society has evolved.

Some stories amount to essays on subjects that I could not comprehend, for they too flowed stream-of-consciousness and the arguments were not logically laid out. Where I was able to extract arguments being made—such as monetary theory, perception vs. reality, or the proposed social media reality show—their concepts came across as either half-baked or old hat. I mean, why have a scripted and controlled social media TV show similar to Survivor, when social media in its present form is one big reality TV show anyway?

There is a charlatan called Hakim, who appears in the Notes, and he intrigued me as the classic snake-oil salesman who tries to sell us nirvana in exchange for our money. Not sure if our Hakim is a metaphor for the televangelists and motivational coaches who are already in on the act. Is Hakim the epitome of the establishment that these characters detest? Another question: the author claims that artists should not commit suicide because that would arrest the development of our culture; yet his hero is Lil Peep, a 21-year-old rapper who died of a drug overdose.

I couldn’t read all the stories, but I read a majority of them, as well as the Notes. Why? Because there was a sameness in all of them, and a nihilism that grated after awhile. I have taken my son and his girlfriend on the golf course often, and we usually have a great time; I felt really sorry for Tim’s dad, in the story “Sanctuary Golf Course,” getting an expletive-filled diatribe that ran over a whole page from Tim. I would have whacked this drunken asshole of a son with my golf club until he showed some respect. The author posits Love as the answer to our woes, and yet none of his characters embody that, nor is it evoked in us as readers. I only felt revulsion and pity. It would have been good to have one character at least show us a way out, a better way. Isn’t fiction about showing as well as telling?

The generation gap exists at any given time, with any age. But as an ex-hippie myself, we preached love and practiced it, not the anger and hopelessness of these characters. We also grew up eventually, took a shave and a shower, and joined the establishment and made it bigger (not necessarily better) than it was, because the alternatives were far worse. I hope these guys in this book will also wise up at some point, clean up their shit, detoxify from their drugs, and join the human race, given that they have strong lifelines.

I gave this book three stars for two reasons: the word dexterity of the author and the total focus on his artistic presentation at the expense of losing his audience – the work comes first, the audience? Pfft! Is this an art form that I would appreciate or emulate? No. Tim could have dismissed his reformed alcoholic father with a single sentence, he didn’t need to blow my ears away with his invective that had made its point long ago. And this is true of many other stories in this collection where we are plunged into labyrinths of soul-searching and voluminous physical and mental sensations that could be covered off in a few lines. Do we as the audience have to be inside these hopeless people’s minds and veins, or could we observe them from the outside? That’s a question you will have to answer as you read this book.

[Ashley · Rating 5 out of 5]

"I'm still going to school today because I don't know what else to do and the sorrow it's so deep inside me it reaches to infinity and when does it get so bad that I have to kill myself, I don't even know how it got to this point, how could it have possibly gotten to this point, how could anything be so horrible."

Review updated as of my 2nd read (15.4.24-17.4.24)

When it comes to life-changing, brain chemistry altering books, books that I spend all my free time obsessing over and seeking out, it's simply not enough for them to just be sad, or bleak or whatever. There has to be present a very specific kind of hopelessness - the kind that grows teeth and takes a bite from your soul. With Spiritless but Actually Not, that's exactly what you find. A book this affecting is a rarity, and perhaps, to fully appreciate a what a novel like this bestows upon the world, you have to have experienced that exact hopelessness within yourself.

A year later, and I still find myself thinking what even is this? Kyle Mitchell has created a thing that transcends genre and ignores all conventionality, he has brought to life a work of art in print form, an artifact that sends readers on a spiritual journey. Getting to experience Spiritless is a lot like experiencing an intense, ultra long acid trip and fever dream all at the same time, it's exhausting, it's draining and destructive yet so very gorgeous. 22 stories. 22 absolute head-fucks. 22 tales of perversion, desperation and nihilistic beauty.

"I have nothing meaningful none of it means anything to me I would throw it all away to have you for a minute. I love you and I know that I will always love you and whatever happens before my death I will think of you when I die I will send you love. You will be the thing remembered. This I know. It's not a promise. Just a knowing."

This is absolutely not a book that you can just read. It's an experience, a thing felt. It's actually, something that most readers won't relate to - perhaps in a way, that's a good thing. This novel screams out to those who have been in a very specific position in life. For those of us who have been there, it rips through the fabric of our being. It's fucked up, depressing and ugly in the most wonderful way, it's horror in a way that's so very real, so raw and personal, as if vulnerability itself has been bled out all over the pages. None of these stories are particularly shocking, it's just that, for a singular rare moment the horror that is the modern world is laid bare with an infectious and sickening clarity.

Even on a second read, my favorite stories still remain the same - Morning Homework, Dying For You, I Wish I Was A Girl and Sushi Is Why I Incarnate - each of these tales still fills me with bittersweet nostalgia. How you feel about Spiritless but Actually Not is going to rely heavily on how you feel about chaotic acid trip nihilistic streams of consciousness. It's a masterpiece, and I can't thank Kyle Mitchell enough for allowing me to experience this monster of a book. Spiritless has rightfully cemented it's place amongst my favorite books of all time.

"In silent rooms years later when he's alone, his brain will interpret ambient noise as his father distantly shouting his name"

[Issy · Rating 2 out of 5]

thank you to the author for sending me a copy of this book in exchange for an honest review.

this book made me feel anxious, but not in a good way. every story read very manically- and a lot of the themes and language use made me very uncomfortable. every story was a barrage of swearing and general incoherent-ness & i felt none of the short stories were truly developed, or ultimately went anywhere.

i think this book would have benefited from some heavier editing, as i think it forms the skeleton of something that /could/ have been good.

the illustrations & formatting of the book were beautiful, so kudos for that. but for me personally, this book was just a bit too dark & a bit too confronting.

[Briar Page · Rating 4 out of 5]

SPIRITLESS, BUT ACTUALLY NOT is a terrible title. Let’s get that out of the way first. I understand the sentiment the author was going for, but this is an incredibly clunky way to express it. Simply SPIRITLESS or NOT SPIRITLESS would be miles better *as a title*, although, again, I realize neither of these conveys quite what Mitchell intends. However, he has the entire nearly 500 page book in which to clarify his meaning; further, his vocabulary is formidable and I’m sure he could come up with a pithier and/or more striking way to communicate what he wants to here.

And what is Kyle Mitchell trying to say in this collection of loosely connected short stories and novelettes? Handily, he just goes ahead and straight-up tells us in the book’s final footnote (SPIRITLESS has an extensive footnote section in back, clearly inspired by the likes of INFINITE JEST and HOUSE OF LEAVES, with some footnotes acting as crucial components of stories, mini-stories in their own right, brief essays, etc). To quote: “Start with the realization that your traditional religious, national, cultural, aesthetic etc. values can provide no explanation for the horrors that you experience [. . .] Conclude that none of those values that you previously relied on need to be abided. Those things which you previously thought were ABSOLUTE [. . .] are no longer reliable. Engage in an extreme nightmare. This is the ego death, psychosis, when everything breaks down. Nothing makes sense. There is no concrete platform on which to stand. [. . .] I think some good evidence for being able to transcend the nightmare of dissolution and not kill yourself is the simple fact that it’s a very survivable experience. You can meditate and then reality will prove itself illusory and your ego will obliterate and you’ll realize that every suggestion or rule is fundamentally not real or important in an absolute sense. It’s horrifying, but then you continue to meditate through it. This is the crazy part: if you survive [. . .] then you realize that you are indistinguishable from the stream of impermanence that literally just is the universe. And when you attach yourself to none of it then you cannot feel bad. The only thing that is left is joy.[. . .] Unutterable beauty, the sanctity of existence: Love is all that there is. It’s the only thing left, it’s the only thing that’s *not* illusory.”

How you feel about SPIRITLESS is going to hinge largely on how you feel about this sort of part-Buddhist, part-existentialist, part-acid casualty chaos magician sort of postmodern philosophical mysticism. Personally, I think this thesis is largely correct*, and also difficult enough to keep hold of that I appreciate being reminded of it from time to time. If you found yourself, say, rolling your eyes and making the j/o motion at the previous paragraph, I can confidently say that SPIRITLESS is not for you.

Each story in the collection deals in some way with a character’s progression through this chain of dissatisfaction with illusion—> disillusionment—> ego death/insanity—> revelation. Usually we don’t see the entire chain, so it really does strengthen the themes and thesis of the collection that we have several stories on the same subject(s) grouped together. That said, as with most long collections, the quality of the pieces is variable. Some, like the novelettes “Refusing to Abreact; the Lord of the Night” and “circa 2011” are incredible: harrowing, moving, sometimes darkly/grotesquely funny windows into private hells and how a person may (or may not) escape them. Either of these novelettes could easily stand on its own, and both deploy the modernist and postmodernist tactics (dense stream of consciousness with unusual grammar and punctuation; the insertion of faux documents, text messages, etc.; a narrator who is aware of the readers, and so on) that can become slightly grating or distracting in other sections to excellent effect. Other pieces, like “Morning Homework”, feel to me too much like less developed rehashes or test runs of better stories in the book (in this case “circa 2011”).

Still other pieces, like “ty gaddis, for the style; apologies to my audience, for the style” and “why de la grammatologie is the greatest book of all time” seem important to the author’s vision and project, but are tedious and annoying as hell to read (quite possibly on purpose).

Another story I liked that I think deserves special mention is “monthly goals” (a depressing, darkly comic, footnote-heavy not-even-really-exaggerated-enough-to-be-satire about a young Algerian artist, living in Paris and struggling financially during the Covid-19 pandemic, who turns to a desperate self-improvement coaching grift to make money fast).

Mitchell’s stories, when we can discern a clear setting, are mostly set in the southwestern United States or in Paris— places I assume Mitchell has spent a fair amount of time. Although I’m in no position** to say whether he did a super convincing job or not, I do appreciate that the protagonists are of different genders, races, socioeconomic classes, national backgrounds, and ages. I’d go so far as to say it was necessary for him to do this in order to hammer home that the themes he’s dealing with, and the journey through discovering life’s impermanence and lack of inherent values/meaning, are universal. Notably, in light of all that, it *is* a very heterosexual book, with the exception of an apparently lesbian or bisexual teen protagonist in the first story, a story that becomes potentially kinda-sorta-maybe a queer and/or proto-trans narrative in light of being titled “I wish I was a girl”, and what I can only describe as a gotcha! gay fake-out in “sushi is why I incarnate” (a character called Brett, still mutually in love with ex Ryan, reminiscing with him about such things as ass-eating, is only revealed to be a woman with a typically male name about halfway through). I don’t *necessarily* see this as a flaw, although it did feel odd both in light of the aforementioned efforts towards having a really heterogenous cast of characters demographics-wise, and in light of the running critique of societal institutions like the nuclear family (to which, of course, LGBTQ people are often framed as an inherent threat, and from which LGBTQ people often find ourselves barred).

I think that’s about all I have to say right now. I think if you’ve read this far, you likely have a good idea whether this is a book that will interest you or not. If you do think it sounds interesting, I recommend picking it up. Maybe read “circa 2011”, then “monthly goals”, then “Refusing to Abreact”, and then, if you liked those and want more, go back to the beginning and go through the whole tome sequentially, including footnotes. Take your time; I found it best and easiest to read this at the rate of about one chapter/story per day, and it’s not like the book is going anywhere.

As a final note, Kyle Mitchell very generously sent me a physical copy of SPIRITLESS in exchange for an honest review. The copy was left outside my apartment and got snowed on, but, after drying next to the heater for a day, was in perfectly readable if crinkly condition. : )


—————————————

*As my partner said to me the other day “You know how you’re always complaining that everyone thinks you’re a hippie? This is why”

** As a middle class white guy who grew up in the US. I’ve never been to Paris or the southwest, either! That said, I was raised as a girl, and I did find some of the depictions of depressive teen girlhood here to be strikingly familiar and realistic-seeming.

[Thomas Edmund · Rating 4 out of 5]

Before getting into the meat of this review, a quick warning that this book does have a "notes" section which actually has quite a lot of material. I have to confess this bugged me a little as the pages also have footnotes , and I didn't realize that I also had to flick to the back of the book to get even more fleshed out material - I can't tell you how much this impacts the reading experience because I usually don't check references at the time when reading (especially fiction/semi-fiction) so stumbled on the notes at the end and realized their was something like 100 pages still of notes I hadn't read (I did however read the last, ultimate super-duper note)

(I put all that first in case anyone reading this review decides to go onto the book has a decent heads up)

Also very quickly - the author reached out to me for a review and sent a hard copy, they openly wanted an honest review and there was no incentive beyond a copy of the book.

Anyways onto the actual review - Spiritless is a kind of semi-autobiographical set of dozens of vignette tales of people struggling with existential angst. I say semi-biographical as there are multiple different POV and its relatively ambiguous how much is the author's life versus fiction, which actually adds an element of charm to the piece.

It's hard to summarize the vignette's contained within this book, they are grouped somewhat by theme - and have a very consistent voice and feel to them - most of the pieces don't really fit a story format, but more of a slice-of-life. Characters don't necessarily stand out, but imagery and moments do, for example in one R-rated tale the MC sneaks off to have sex with his girlfriend while golfing with his father, all with a backdrop of a sky burning orange with forest fires. Another more comedic tale relates a father desperate to put together a new BBQ who keeps having disaster after disaster in the process - the story captures the ennui of keeping up with the Joneses with a funny context.

As mentioned many of the stories are quite R-rated, especially the first few pieces, the author also dives into drugs, crypto-currency, online scammy/coaching courses and all sorts. So even though there is definitely a humour throughout its not exactly light reading.

I had a few criticisms of the book - firstly the 'voice' while very consistent at times I thought required a little more work. The author themselves (assuming this was real and not part of the fiction) confesses that creating the book quickly was important to them which shows a little in the style - there is a sense of rambling and many of the stories while beginning with a unique voice seemed too often to return to the same style of prose (maybe this was just me but I found the frequent Hahahahaha actually written out really annoying, I didn't mind emojis and whatnot)

I think if the author had either spent some time trimming the rambling OR crafting the stories into more structuring pieces that worked together to justify the lengthy overall book this would be something really amazing - as it is I really enjoyed this book anyway, but it did have moments that could have been better, and I wouldn't recommend to someone unless this style appealed already.

[Isaiah · Rating 4 out of 5]

To see a full review check it out here.

This was wild. It was a breakneck race to unstable narrators that need maybe a nap and a little less drugs (or maybe more drugs).

[Jason · Rating 4 out of 5]

Every now and then before I decide whether I will read a book I'll go and check out the negative reviews to see what upset the 1 star brigade and boy did this have some upset readers haha. Too much swearing was the common theme of complaints, well that was me sold on the book as I love a good fucking swear. They weren't wrong though, the first story or artifact really does knock you for six, the language is so vivid and it stays that way for the rest of the book, whilst the swearing is reduced to nominal levels in the proceeding chapters, the strength of the language stays strong. There is a darkness to the writing, such bleak subject matter is sure to bring the reader down but each artifact ends with a glimmer of hope, could the protagonist of each chapter somehow make it?

Each artifact starts with a piece of art, a line drawing of some creepy weirdness, maybe a representation of the character's spirit? The titles of each piece are impressive, a couple of examples are "nostalgia for suicide" and "hate in my soul". There were a few stories I just didn't get and I found those ones to be like wading through treacle, but for the most I enjoyed them for a number of different reasons, the atmosphere on a golf course as the surrounding area burns was amazing, you could almost feel that everything was tinged with a orange hue. The one about the young woman reminiscing about a dark moment in her life whilst house sitting was full of so much loneliness. And the absolute douchebags driving a speedboat whilst showing off about how they were going to make millions had me willing the boat to crash, Mitchell managed to bring the monster in me out.

The most impressive part of this book was the dialogue, Mitchell has got the art of writing a conversation exactly how it would happen in real life, spot on. The characters laugh at themselves, interrupt each other, talk utter nonsense and show off a lot, if you have ever overheard a couple of youths talking rubbish on a bus, the way their conversation flows is what Mitchell has produced here, it must have taken a huge amount of editing to get that just right, it's a bit like Hubert Selby Jr. where you don't need any he said/she said's because the natural flow makes it easy to follow along.

I do have one issue with the book, it is far too long, at nearly 500 pages of very intense experiences I think it was too much for me, the book could be split into two volumes and still work in my opinion....or maybe that is all part of the show, the characters have been pushed to the limit so maybe it is only fair the reader does too? Maybe that means this shouldn't be classed as a book, is it more a piece of art?

My final thought on this book: the reader has been taken on quite the journey, witnessed much darkness and pain and at the end there is that little moment of joy and hope...almost feels like Hellraiser with the mix of pain and pleasure.

Blog review: https://felcherman.wordpress.com/2023...

[Kester Finley · Rating 3 out of 5]

In Spiritless but actually not, Kyle Mitchell proves his writing does have merit even if some of the work within becomes muddled in its broad attempt to paint a larger picture and keep readers on track to its main purpose. Collecting several singular stories as chapters, Spiritless isn’t without its slivers of pure genius and bright lights shone on brutal truths but individual impacts that can tie everything together are lost amongst the Pollock-like tapestry at play here as too many different directions vie for supremacy. It comes off as if some ideas were flawlessly delivered to readers while others were a mishmash of jotted-down sentences, clever wordplay, broken dialogue, and wayward thoughts that kept the greater appeal and understanding elusive and cloudy when pinning down exactly what it wanted to be detracting from wide range appeal of the entire work versus only a few chapters.   

What Mitchell does do well, however, is showcase the human experience from the nihilistic viewpoint that was evident in more than one chapter as it ebbed and flowed from clarity to confusion and back again. It is within this philosophical approach that the broken, the damaged, the intrusive thoughts kept at bay, and the trauma of life entangled around every step of those within his work are displayed via the good, the bad, and the indifferent. When it worked, it did so brilliantly. Added chapter art helped to invoke specific feelings as did the inevitable gut-wrenching introspection for many of Mitchell’s protagonists.

Desperation, self-destruction, and loneliness all walk hand in hand with friends, enemies, lovers, strangers, and those left behind with each chapter story but there are times when Spiritless’s desire to be something deeper and more insightful loses its impact for artistic editing choices, flourishes of absurdity, garishness, and drive to mess with readers’ heads in its mostly bleak and unapologetic delivering of material.

While not for everyone, Mitchell does deliver the goods with his aim of delivering a collection of stories featuring people with varied perceptions of the world around them. Reading like a fever dream meets a bad acid trip, Spiritless makes sense one minute and becomes a bumpy slurry of perversion and jumbled stuttering the very next. There are highs, and there are lows, but the experience may very well be worth the price of admission.

[Tabathe · Rating 5 out of 5]

I binged this book, it’s a very interesting read, it’s very well written and I’m definitely looking forward to more from this author, I would very much recommend this book if you want something to twist up your head.

It is definitely a head trip that really hits you in the soul. It’s fucked up, sad and depressed but also relatable. It’s horror in the real everyday world, not just the extreme gore and murder like most in this genre. You can feel this book and its stories you can feel what the characters do and it may be confusing or loud or just plain too much but isn’t that how it can be in your own head sometimes? The writing is amazingly well done and the art really just pulls it all together perfectly. It’s definitely a new and modern take on horror, visceral in a way too real. Go in with no expectations and you’ll be pleasantly surprised. Don’t try to figure it out just enjoy the ride.

[Josiah Morgan · Rating 3 out of 5]

Kyle Mitchell knows how to write. That much is clear. These stories get at times lost in a space of cleverness in the 'ideas' realm that doesn't translate to literary effect or affect. At best, Mitchell is a kind of freewheeling associative writer, not too far off the current realm of the internet experimentalists. Something unusual happens when this type of internet writing is settled and formed into print, though. It becomes homogenised, difficult to distinguish between the 'full form' of a book and the individual impact of singular stories within the book. And singular stories do stand out, but the book as an entire entity feels somewhat inarticulable.

[Eric Algeo · Rating 1 out of 5]

For me, this book was not it. The stories compromising the book felt like a long string of streams of consciousness writing from someone living an "alternative" lifestyle. The writing itself had some highlights, with phrases and sentences having some beauty. As a writer, there is potential. However, this collection of stories does not. Beyond the context of over sexualization, drug abuse, and mental illness, the formatting was aggressive and unrelenting; paragraphs don't have to be a continuous block of text for a page (or more). This book, as I've seen in other reviews, may appeal to a young adult audience for the edginess, but now that I don't wear eyeliner or have bangs over my eyes, it just doesn't do it for me. DNF, but I tried, I really tried.

[Lily · Rating 5 out of 5]

This book is an experience all its own from start to finish. I'm not going to break down each story here (I don't want to write an essay), but I will say, each story has its own unique vibe and style, and the formatting and font choices for each go a long way to adding to that (so print edition is the way to go). Oh - and be sure to read the footnotes and the notes at the back of the book - they're important. The images really fit each story, and give you a bit of a preview of what you're about to read. Now that that's out of the way, let's talk about some of the stories that really stuck out to me.

Variegate Me Please I'm Begging You - the first story, and at first it was a little hard for me to read. Once I started reading it like I was listening to a poetry slam (even though it was prose), it was smoother, and I really enjoyed it from start to finish.

Devastatingly Self-Conscious - very relatable for anyone with severe social anxiety. This story somehow manages to completely capture that feeling.

I Don't Really Fuck With Barthelme - by far the shortest story...unless you count the notes at the back. Interesting and unique way to tell a short story

There are plenty more stories, and I'll leave you to discover them for yourself. Overall, I wasn't totally sure what I was getting into at first, but I'm so glad I dived in head first and let the book take me on what ended up being a somewhat spiritual and philosophical journey from cover to cover.

[Richie · Rating 3 out of 5]

Note: I received a free hardcopy of this book from the author who, in return, asked for a review.

SPIRITLESS BUT ACTUALLY NOT by Kyle Mitchell is a collection of metafictional and experimental short stories that explore themes of isolation, despair, substance abuse, and attempting to find any semblance of understanding within hyper-capitalist culture.

Some highlights include I’m Begging You, where stream of consciousness is almost as noisy as the neon lights and siren-like wails of a slot machines in a casino; Monthly Goals, a look at the predatory nature of social media life coaches and the snakeoil they sell; and Circa 2011, which follows a young house sitter navigating teenage self-discovery. I appreciate Mitchell’s attempts at the various structures of each story — endnotes, the different typesettings, footnotes, illustrations, the texting and DM formatting, a story as an AP English submission, story as a PhD candidate’s dissertation, the attempts the write from differing POV — which is risky and saw mixed results. There is inconsistencies throughout the collection, where some stories sees the authorial voice in complete control, while others are clearly attempting to *find* a voice. SPIRITLESS would greatly benefit from a tough editor, one that would allow Mitchell to showcase his talent — it is quite obvious that he has talent — while removing the pieces that lack focus or are seeking its footing. I appreciate Kyle reaching out and sharing with me his work.

[Frederick Maheux · Rating 4 out of 5]

Disclaimer: A free copy was provided by the author.

This is less a collection of short stories, more a polyvocal experimentation of various personas (cryptobros, stoners, fitness enthusiasts, life coach, etc.) attempts to break free of the shackles of their "reality". It's necessary to approach this object as more than a sum of its parts, which can be daunting as it's a massive rollercoaster of a reading trip. The substance-infused stream of consciousness sections didn't do much for me as they often loop around the same concepts with marginally different wordings. But where Kyle Mitchell as a writer really shines are the dialogue-driven stories. They are absolutely hilarious (often arousing), relevant and way more revelatory of what I understood of Mitchell's project than the chemically-frenzied philosophical drift. Which was a quite a surprise for me, as my literary preferences are usually the other way around..

All in all, I discovered a strong new writer with a philosophical projet where he confronts the world head's on through literature. Where one could reproach naivete I praise intensity. At the end I was left pondering how much of what was shared here was viscerally experienced by Kyle Mitchell, which is always an excellent sign.

[Andrew]

Like most of the other reviewers, I got a free copy from the author. This is me holding up my end of the bargain. That says something dismal about the status of small-press writing in America, doesn't it? No shade.

Hey here are a bunch of stories that vary widely in quality, from the rather pretty and admirable to those that really should have been left on the cutting room floor. Dude clearly has a boner for DFW, Gaddis, and the gang, and you can feel his genuine enthusiasm palpitating through every page. I would probably shit on this a lot more if it wasn't a young writer just getting his start, but the author actually has both talent and cojones, and I would seek to encourage rather than dissuade.

[Ben Robinson · Rating 3 out of 5]

Disregard the clunky double-negative title and what you're left with here is a perfectly agreeable bunch of short stories. Their central characters are a generally maladjusted bunch, often drugged out of their minds and alienated from their peers as they traverse through the malls and casinos dotted around anytown USA. Thoughts are expressed in a stream of consciousness style that hooks the reader in and, for the most part, keeps them where I think the writer wants them. Shoutout to the delightful illustrations by Heythem Rezgui too.

[Robert Ottone · Rating 5 out of 5]

Well written and thought provoking, Mitchell is one to watch

[Kara (Books.and.salt) · Rating 2 out of 5]

Oh boy. Review to come.

[nathan]

Major thanks to Kyle for kindly sending me a copy of his novel.

What we have here is an incubator for all the world's ennui. Countless narratives hailing from different backgrounds of immense dissatisfaction.

You could say that Mitchell's work reflects the very essence of self-depricative stream of consciousness. So much so that these stories almost work like long anon asks on tumblr where strangers share life stories to find empathy. But either it's because the book is organized like an unedited inventory of minutia or there isn't such a clear reason why these stories come about, they feel forced. They are less apologetic, and more sorry-not-sorry. Without rhyme, without reason.

“𝘚𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘸𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘥𝘦𝘦𝘱𝘭𝘺 𝘸𝘳𝘰𝘯𝘨 — 𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘤𝘩 𝘐 𝘳𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘷𝘦, 𝘢𝘭𝘸𝘢𝘺𝘴, 𝘯𝘰 𝘮𝘢𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘮𝘺 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘹𝘵, 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘧𝘦𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨’𝘴 𝘨𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘥𝘦𝘦𝘱𝘭𝘺, 𝘥𝘦𝘦𝘱𝘭𝘺, 𝘤𝘰𝘴𝘮𝘪𝘤𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘸𝘳𝘰𝘯𝘨. 𝘐 𝘵𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘱𝘰𝘯𝘴𝘪𝘣𝘪𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘺 , 𝘦𝘢𝘤𝘩 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦 𝘩𝘰𝘱𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘪𝘧 𝘐 𝘵𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘱𝘰𝘯𝘴𝘪𝘣𝘪𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘮𝘢𝘺𝘣𝘦 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘨𝘪𝘷𝘦𝘯𝘦𝘴𝘴 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘣𝘦 𝘨𝘳𝘢𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘥, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘢𝘤𝘤𝘳𝘶𝘦𝘥 𝘬𝘢𝘳𝘮𝘢 𝘢𝘣𝘴𝘰𝘭𝘷𝘦𝘥.”

Mitchell expresses the grand ennui of existential suffering, but it ultimately shallows itself without direct experiences of his characters.

We are given no name, no history. We are given no concrete details of his characters, shallow cardboard cutouts with voices that yearn and yearn for nothing.

This is where my previous comment on tumblr comes in. These are tales from gray-faced anons to the world’s port of unlimited human anxious questioning. No more, no less. But the novel requires a lot more work than rapid-fire fingers on a keyboard. The novel requires audience participation. The novel requires tools to evoke empathy. The novel requires ways in which we are not simply told things, but are allowed to think through the situations at hand. Therefore, I think if Mitchell had kept this online as a blog through anon asks, it would work tremendously better. But in the form of a novel, they fall too flat to even stand on.

It is difficult to stand on the same ground as his characters, to even see them as human, because Mitchell uses a tone and voice in third that's too similar to the voice of his characters. Omniscence is important because it leaves the work unbiased. But if the writer shares the same voice as his characters, then we are less prone to mix our thoughts with the work. Because of this, narrative backbone is lost. All validity is lost. And because all is lost, we are lost as readers in how to examine the work.

Following the passage above, instead of laying out an opportunity to connect with the character, we are given lavish details of a setting that only perpetuates the empty ennui that our character is mulling over:

“𝘌𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘯 𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘴𝘢𝘯𝘤𝘵𝘶𝘢𝘳𝘺, 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘴𝘰𝘭𝘦 𝘳𝘰𝘰𝘮 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘱𝘭𝘦𝘹 𝘳𝘦𝘤𝘦𝘱𝘵𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘶𝘯𝘭𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘢𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘶𝘯 𝘳𝘰𝘴𝘦 𝘤𝘢𝘶𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘶𝘴𝘭𝘺 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘭𝘪𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘦𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘸𝘪𝘯𝘥𝘰𝘸𝘴 𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘵𝘺 𝘧𝘦𝘦𝘵 𝘶𝘱; 𝘸𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘮𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘥 (𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘥𝘶𝘤𝘦𝘥 𝘣𝘺 𝘮𝘺 𝘪𝘯𝘴𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘦) 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘰𝘯𝘭𝘺 𝘣𝘦 𝘢 𝘨𝘳𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘴𝘪𝘯 (𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘢 𝘴𝘪𝘯 𝘢𝘤𝘤𝘰𝘳𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘰 𝘸𝘩𝘰, 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘨𝘰𝘥?); 𝘷𝘪𝘴𝘶𝘢𝘭𝘪𝘻𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘩𝘢𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘰𝘧 𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘥𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘭𝘥 𝘸𝘪𝘥𝘦, 𝘳𝘦𝘨𝘢𝘳𝘥𝘭𝘦𝘴𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘴𝘦 𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘥𝘴 𝘮𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘣𝘦 𝘦𝘯𝘫𝘰𝘺𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘮 𝘰𝘧 𝘭𝘪𝘧𝘦..”

Paragraphs continue like this, without room to ground ourselves to the characters. Here, it seems Mitchell abuses his characters, dumps them into trauma porn, to pull out harm for harm’s sake.

This is not to say Mitchell doesn’t have lavish sentences. They’re strung together wonderfully in the cosmic dance of meth on the tongue, but perhaps works better in the smokey basement-converted-bedroom that reeks of McDonalds and Pink Floyd.

I would’ve enjoyed this a lot more if I was angsty and sixteen and reading 𝘕𝘢𝘬𝘦𝘥 𝘓𝘶𝘯𝘤𝘩 for the first time.

The title of the work plays with the unsure apathy of contemporary youth, but, in fact, all we have is about 500 pages of spiritlessness.

*Sad to say that this will be my first DNF of the year. Mitchell has talent, I admit, but perhaps this work is too ambitious for its own good and lacks concentration in what it wants to achieve.