Tom Drury

Pierre Hunter is like a creature out of time or a hero in a fable or perhaps just like anyone else living in the Midwest in the Driftless Area. He falls in love, he goes to school, he gets a job, he almost dies, and like a backache, trouble is right behind him. He partakes of both the particular and the universal and he isn’t entirely sure which is which. But fate, it seems, has something in store for Pierre.

Drury’s novel is punctuated by his trademark irony and humour. But it is the show more near-mythic quality of the story that marks it out. It feels at times almost Gaiman-esque. And that might put some readers off who were expecting something closer to gritty realism. But there is plenty of grit here, even borderline noir. And if there is some uncertainty about what it all amounts to, I’d have to say that is probably a good thing.

Always a writer worth reading. And this novel confirms that he is continuing to challenge himself to seek out the writer he will become. Recommended. show less

Charles (formerly ‘Tiny’) Darling now has a wife, Joan, a young son, Micah, and an older step-daughter, Lyris, who had been given up for adoption at birth by Joan, but has been returned to her as a teenager by an aggressive organization reconnecting those of the same blood. Despite his primary role as the antagonist of Drury’s first novel, The End of Vandalism, Charles here is the sympathetic glue holding together, mostly, this family. Over the course of one weekend each of the show more Darlings will lose themselves and find themselves, connect and disconnect, and generally, with a bit of good will, muddle through.

Drury returns to the oblique style of his previous novel with great success. Minor characters step onto the scene, impart puzzling wisdom or back stories, and then step aside. There are brilliant moments of comedy that are never over-egged. And the comedy never obscures the underlying tragedy of their condition or the redemptive power of just being decent to one another. Charles, it turns out, is a great dad. Joan, ever looking for signs, has been struggling with what surviving a tornado in the company of Dr. Palomino means. She is willing to go a long way to find out. Micah’s take on the world is as oddly skewed as his parents, and Lyris, who grew up mostly in a benevolent orphanage is probably the most stable and sane of the bunch. You will end up loving them all as much as Drury clearly does.

Highly recommended. show less

Tom Drury’s dry, obliquely funny style of writing perfectly captures a certain tone of the mid-west. His characters are completely unique and yet recognizable types. And although they do many things, it is usually through what they say that we know them. Dan Norman, the taciturn Sheriff of Grouse County, loves Louise Darling, the estranged wife of Tiny Darling, a petty thief and electrical jinx. Louise, who works as a photographer’s assistant to old Perry Kleeborg, has put aside her show more rebellious youth and Tiny with it and is prepared for a bit of the happiness she deserves, even if she has to prompt Dan out of his respectful silence and into action. Through their relations and friends and passers-through, we come to not exactly know Grouse County, but at least to feel comfortable with it. It’s a bit like Lake Wobegon, but without the twee. More than anything, Drury’s people seem real, full of hope, but subject to immense sadness. Some wander endlessly, like Tiny, looking for where they fit, while others, like Louise, grow into themselves, or, like Dan, have their direction and motivation thrust upon them.

Perhaps due to the lengthy gestation of the book — much of it appeared over a number of years in numerous short stories in The New Yorker — the three sections of the novel have a somewhat different feel. The first third of the book best displays Drury’s ironic style. In the latter sections he seems more concerned with pitiable developments in the lives of Louise and Dan, which changes the emotional tone of the book. In a sense, it becomes more of a typical novel as it develops. However, flashes of Drury’s dry wit surface even through Louise’s sadness.

Well worth reading and, for me at least, tracking down whatever else Drury has written. Recommended. show less

After finishing Hunts in Dreams and the earlier The End of Vandalism, I've decided Tom Drury is one of my favourite authors. This is a book where nothing much seems to 'happen'. A man looks for a gun, a woman goes on a business trip, a teenage girl tries to work out where she belongs, a little boy longs for a pet. It seems simple but it's not. I love the clear but kind descriptions of the strange misconnections and muddles of being human - people seeking connection and understanding, but show more sometimes never quite comprehending their own thoughts, feelings and actions, let alone the thoughts or feelings of others. I love the sweet odd logic of childhood, so beautifully at work in Micah's experiences. And I really love the way that every now and then one of the characters think or see something so accurate and true and wonderful it takes my breath away. show less