The Smallest People Alive

by Keith Banner

Unconnected short stories, all of them set in Ohio, that are unusual in their "just folks" presentation of gay people. "In The Smallest People Alive, Keith Banner writes about people and situations many times ignored by other fiction writers. These are stories focused on lives outside the mainstream, and yet they are invested with precision, tenderness and artistry. The title story, awarded an O. Henry Prize, chronicles the lives of two boyhood friends, one who is recovering from a suicide attempt, the other trying to figure out how he can help. In their stumbling allegiance to each other, they find a sort of solace, and as the story reaches its conclusion the reader is given an intimate view of what it means to wake up from a nightmare and realize you have to go on living, even though life may not be worth it all of the time." Other stories in The Smallest People Alive involve two gentlemen with mental disabilities preparing for their wedding, a janitor working late hours dreaming of revenge, and a gay teenager taking the night off from Burger King to search for the body of his murdered cousin. All these characters and their stories, while unsettling, are revealed with a serious intent and a big heart. The smallest people alive can sometimes turn out to be the most interesting, and the most enlightening, people you will ever meet.

Genres: Short Stories, Fiction

264 pages, Paperback

First published January 1, 2004

Reviews

[Michael · Rating 5 out of 5]

Review from Other Voices:
[link:http://www.webdelsol.com/Other_Voices...]


"The heart of Keith Banner’s America smells like cat piss and is littered with unpaid bills. At work, his characters wear humiliating uniforms with name tags that have their names spelled wrong. K-Mart is doing well in Keith Banner’s America. So is Old Country Buffet and Lay-Z-Boy. The pills people take are not the fun ones. The colors are institutional green and cement gray. When there is carpet, it’s shag. The citizens are uniformly overweight, gay, and pale. They drive small, unpaid for cars, live in tiny apartments in crappy apartment buildings, dream minor dreams—like to stop working at a mental institution. They are the smallest people alive. But they have big, achy desires. And they love in varied and endless ways.

The title story, which was awarded an O. Henry prize, has a young man coming to terms with the botched suicide of Ben, his best friend and first lover. Ben tried to asphyxiate himself but only succeed in killing off parts of his brain and is now stuck at home with his parents, trying to relearn everything. In “The Wedding of Tom & Tom,” lifelong institutional inmates and obsessive lovers are about to be separated because a manager thinks their passion has made them a danger to each other. The narrator, who witnesses Tom B. on his knees in front of Tom A. during her first night shift at the institution, takes pity on them and throws the lovers a wedding before they’re forced apart. In “Spider in the Snow,” a father traveling to his ex-wife’s house for Christmas to see his children has a detour on the way: he blows a stranger named Spider in the bathroom stall of a Greyhound station. The gorgeous, sad story “The Doll the Fire Made,” depicts a man going through the motions of being a good friend to his ex-lover after the lover has decided to go straight and get married. In the resulting loneliness, Banner finds the moment when even the best-intentioned middle-aged man crumbles before his desires, and forces his lips on a teen-age boy. In “Where You Live,” an EMT saves a boy from suicide only to seduce him. “Holding Hands for Safety” is narrated by Brian, a fat awkward boy, a boy people suspect of being gay not because of some particularly fey quality, but because he “has the look in his eyes of someone who wants things way too much.” Brian’s problem is he loves the wrong man: Trent, his psychopath of a cousin. After Trent confides in Brian that he has killed his younger half-sister and thrown her in the dumpster, Brian can’t bring himself to turn Trent in.

If Banner keeps writing these stories, he will float up into the stratosphere presently reserved for the likes of Mary Gaitskill, Katherine Anne Porter, Denis Johnson, and Flannery O’Connor. He’s not scared of drama. His touch isn’t particularly light. He doesn’t lean on the quirky and clever as so much of contemporary writing does. These stories don’t burp out some subtle bittersweet truth in the end. They are bold and harrowing and, starting with the first sentence, they will make you ache. They will ask you to laugh your ass off, then immediately feel bad for laughing, then laugh some more. Keith Banner has found the loneliest and scariest paths to beauty. His characters travel these paths with passion, grace, and a wicked humor. And the map of contemporary American literature is larger because of them."

[Liam Ostermann · Rating 5 out of 5]

This is one my all-time favorite books, it is, superb and as the purpose of writing reviews is to get other to read the books I love I am breaking with everything I normally believe and providing someone else's review rather than my own:

"The heart of Keith Banner’s America smells like cat piss and is littered with unpaid bills. At work, his characters wear humiliating uniforms with nametags that have their names spelled wrong. K-Mart is doing well in Keith Banner’s America. So is Old Country Buffet and Lay-Z-Boy. The pills people take are not the fun ones. The colors are institutional green and cement gray. When there is carpet, it’s shag. The citizens are uniformly overweight, gay, and pale. They drive small, unpaid for cars, live in tiny apartments in crappy apartment buildings, dream minor dreams—like to stop working at a mental institution. They are the smallest people alive. But they have big, achy desires. And they love in varied and endless ways.

"The title story, which was awarded an O. Henry prize, has a young man coming to terms with the botched suicide of Ben, his best friend and first lover. Ben tried to asphyxiate himself but only succeed in killing off parts of his brain and is now stuck at home with his parents, trying to relearn everything. In “The Wedding of Tom & Tom,” lifelong institutional inmates and obsessive lovers are about to be separated, because a manager thinks their passion has made them a danger to each other. The narrator, who witnesses Tom B. on his knees in front of Tom A. during her first night shift at the institution, takes pity on them and throws the lovers a wedding before they’re forced apart. In “Spider in the Snow,” a father traveling to his ex-wife’s house for Christmas to see his children has a detour on the way: he blows a stranger named Spider in the bathroom stall of a Greyhound station. The gorgeous, sad story “The Doll the Fire Made,” depicts a man going through the motions of being a good friend to his ex-lover after the lover has decided to go straight and get married. In the resulting loneliness, Banner finds the moment when even the best-intentioned middle-aged man crumbles before his desires, and forces his lips on a teen-age boy. In “Where You Live,” an EMT saves a boy from suicide only to seduce him. “Holding Hands for Safety” is narrated by Brian, a fat awkward boy, a boy people suspect of being gay not because of some particularly fey quality, but because he “has the look in his eyes of someone who wants things way too much.” Brian’s problem is he loves the wrong man: Trent, his psychopath of a cousin. After Trent confides in Brian that he has killed his younger half-sister and thrown her in the dumpster, Brian can’t bring himself to turn Trent in.

"If Banner keeps writing these stories, he will float up into the stratosphere presently reserved for the likes of Mary Gaitskill, Katherine Anne Porter, Denis Johnson, and Flannery O’Connor. He’s not scared of drama. His touch isn’t particularly light. He doesn’t lean on the quirky and clever as so much of contemporary writing does. These stories don’t burp out some subtle bittersweet truth in the end. They are bold and harrowing and, starting with the first sentence, they will make you ache. They will ask you to laugh your ass off, then immediately feel bad for laughing, then laugh some more. Keith Banner has found the loneliest and scariest paths to beauty. His characters travel these paths with passion, grace, and a wicked humor. And the map of contemporary American literature is larger because of them.

"—reviewed by Michael Anthony Fitzgerald" From the site:

https://www.webdelsol.com/Other_Voice...

I have done this because Mr. Fitzgerald has said everything I want to say so well that there seems no point in trying again, at best I would paraphrase.

[Charles · Rating 5 out of 5]

An extraordinary book that finds its truths and lyricism in lives that seem to offer almost nothing. The stories are peopled by the clinically obese, retards, workers in dead-end jobs, the lonely, the handicapped. What saves them is love, or the possibility of it, of crumbs from the table. Most of the stories deal with gay men or boys, but that should exclude no one from their power and, often, humour. I was touched and amused, and deeply impressed, by Banner's capacity to make the world he describes not only real but of value. Read it!

[Gila Gila · Rating 5 out of 5]

Heartbreaking, funny and memorable collection of gay life on the outskirts, unwashed blue collars replacing the Lacoste polos. Keith Banner’s stories deserve wider recognition, particularly - from what I’ve seen - in the Queer lit community. These stories are rough cut gems. I'd read the title piece years ago when it won an O'Henry prize and never forgotten the incredibly satisfying last paragraph ("It's not lovely, God knows, but it means everything") and especially the last line, which I won't quote here, but will say that it's a small moment of perfection.

[Olga · Rating 5 out of 5]

A fantastic, honest and troubling description of the American nightmare. Life seems safe as long as you're not from that undefined middle part of America and not unloved or uneducated or somehow brain damaged, but as I read through these stories, I yearned for a shower and a scrubbing brush. I felt the scum on my skin, the cockroaches scatter at my feet, and the smell of piss in my nose. It's a society of abandoned children who don't fare well in the world of their desires. You're disgusted by them, but you want to hug them real bad. The author's a genius.

[Martin · Rating 5 out of 5]

I've read this collection twice since it came out. Banner is an outstanding talent, too little recognized. The stories are dark and funny, disturbing and moving, about people one rarely comes across in literary fiction.

[Molly · Rating 5 out of 5]

Keith Banner's The Smallest People Alive conveys the yearning of the average Joe with subtlety, humor, and pathos. A must-read.

[David]

This was an extremely fresh book about small town folks. Written so concisely each short story has intriguing characters, often semi-closeted gay men, and generally sad situations. One story is about an electrocution during "Gay Day" at an amusement park and another story is about a guy in his 20s who survived his suicide attempt but with brain damage and his former lover/friend who visits him one summer. All the characters in these stories have distinct imperfections and that was the charm of the book to me. Banner treats each with dignity, care, and humor as they struggle through their relationships. Terrific writing and fascinating stories.

[Bryant · Rating 4 out of 5]

Funny, sometimes quirky short stories about people we don't often get to read stories about. My buddy Martin sent me this as a gift and I'm glad he did.

[Marni · Rating 3 out of 5]

The 'Smallest People Alive' in this book are ones with behaviours and disabilities not easily accepted by the mainstream. The author writes well about BGLT lifestyles, children living with druggie adults - their everyday struggles and how their behaviours affect others. Some stories are about caregivers in mental facilities. I read half the book and found that it was too depressing to complete.

[Natalie]

I've come across Michael's excellent review of this book several times. I'll be picking this one up next chance I get.

[Lizzie · Rating 2 out of 5]

this book is disturbing.

[Moira · Rating 5 out of 5]

So good, really dark, really affecting stories. Totally gritty but beautiful and so human.

[Rabid Washcloth · Rating 2 out of 5]

It's a hit-or-miss effort trying to tackle the types of characters featured in this book...this was mostly miss for me.