really short reviews 2014

Welcome to Rain Taxi’s Really Short Reviews! Here we present short pieces by staff members past and present. RSRs will post occasionally on this page throughout the year. For eclectic assortments from the previous years, visit these links:

2013 Really Short Reviews
2014 Really Short Reviews
2015 Really Short Reviews


Albert Goldbarth
Tavern Books ($10)

This 36-page collection, inspired by the winding down of NASA’s space exploration program, uses its poem-essays to advocate a continued fascination with the greater unknown. Space is not a metaphor for Albert Goldbarth here, nor does it need to be—the cosmos are a stable and omnipresent source of untapped mystery, and this focus lends the collection both gravity and grandiosity. We’re happy to sit in Goldbarth’s cockpit as he takes us through his various ruminations, touching upon Hubble and Buzz Aldrin and Star Trek alike.


Catherine Knutsson
Atheneum Books for Young People ($9.99)

A member of the Metís nation, Catherine Knutsson lyrically weaves native lore and a tense, fascinating tale in her debut novel, Shadows Cast by Stars. Knutsson’s protagonist Cassandra can see “shades,” people’s totem animals, though she’s uncertain what her own totem is. Her gifts come from the Old Way of the aboriginal peoples, and they are crucial in helping her people survive the dark times. The book is set two hundred years in the future when a terrible Plague afflicts the population, and only the aboriginal peoples are immune. As such, the antibodies in their blood are in high demand. What follows is a struggle to survive, to fit in, to accept her own powers, to find love, and to save her people from dark physical and spiritual forces. While Cass learns that “everything has a dark side” there is redemption in love, sacrifice, and replacing the old myths with your own.


From Adele to Ziggy, The Real A to Z of Rock and Pop

Dylan Jones

Picador ($25)

“It's not what you like but what you are like that's important,” wrote Nick Hornby in High Fidelity—words that come to mind when perusing Dylan Jones's sprawling testament to the music he's loved and hated over his adult life. Organized alphabetically, the book offers hundreds of entries, starting with A Tribe Called Quest and ending with Frank Zappa (so much for the "From Adele to Ziggy" of the book's subtitle), but while it's too personal to be a useful reference and the very definition of overwrought, the book has a weighty charm, like listening to a chatty friend wax from fascinating to boring over one-too-many drinks. At some point a dismissive entry will inevitably aggravate the reader, only to be forgiven for a smart insight, impassioned defense, or deft turn of phrase. Probably best devoured in small bits from a porch chair or in the loo, Jones's dictionary is a window into one darn smart music lover's soul—and a refractive lens for your own.


Myfanwy Collins

Myfanwy Collins’s collection of stories I Am Holding Your Hand is the literary equivalent of a bag of marbles: some stories are large, some stories are small, some are transparent and some are opaque. Yet each story contains the arced and swooping patterns of a tiny universe. Most of these stories are less than two pages long, and this brevity adds to the collection’s grab-bag feel: any one is as relevant as the others, though there are standouts. Particularly notable are those tales in which Collins lets her narratives breathe, gives her characters more than four pages to reveal themselves—these are the stories in which Collins’s knack for craft and execution shines brightest.


Libba Bray

When Evie gets drummed out of Ohio for uncovering a scandal with her special powers, it is the best thing that could have happened to her. It is the Roaring Twenties, and Evie’s bobbed cut and short skirts don’t fit in with Ohio’s more conservative circles, let alone her more wondrous abilities. When she ends up working in her uncle Will’s dreary place of business, The Museum of American Folklore (a.k.a. The Museum of the Creepy Crawlies), Evie’s ability to divine information just by touching an object gets her into trouble. She soon discovers she isn’t the only one with secrets: Will’s assistant Jericho, the Ziegfield Folly dancer Theta and her musical friend Henry, and the writer/hustler Memphis each play their supernatural roles as the Pentacle killer strikes again and again, culminating in an awakening of evil so horrific it’s enough to give you “the heebie-jeebies.” In The Diviners, Libba Bray creates a rousing thriller punctuated with the lingo of the times that catapults the reader from one hair-raising situation to the next. It’s not only the cat’s pajamas, but also makes a great summer read.


My Life in the Pursuit of the Afterlife
Raymond Moody, MD and Paul Perry
HarperOne ($15.99)

While Raymond Moody’s name is now synonymous with afterlife studies, he started out studying astronomy and philosophy. When he heard of a physician who came back from the dead and reported seeing a light, his career path was changed forever: “To say I was hooked on death was an understatement.” He has since recorded thousands of cases of near-death experiences (NDEs), as well as “shared death experiences,” past life regressions, and encounters with the departed. As a result, Moody has published nearly a dozen books that attempt to answer one of the biggest questions in life: What happens when we die? In this memoir, Moody reveals his own near-death experience due to an undiagnosed thyroid problem. Luckily for us, Raymond Moody survived to share his wit and wisdom and continue the pursuit.


Daniel Smith
Simon & Schuster ($25)

A retrospective investigation into the potential origins of the author’s anxiety, there is little scientific framework to Daniel Smith’s Monkey Mind and even less speculation about modern society’s effects on the human psyche. Instead, Smith limits his exploration to his own troubled psychology, somehow managing to hold his affliction at bay long enough to express a gregarious, self-deprecating, and thoroughly enjoyable persona.


Thani Al-Suwaidi
Antibookclub ($15)

Thani Al-Suwaidi’s novella The Diesel is a miasmic study of gender, religion, and ambition within the context of contemporary Islam. In his first work of fiction, poet Al-Suwaidi (born in the United Arab Emirates in 1966) writes with the narrative economy of an imagist, yet with the informed disconnect of a Modernist. Originally published in Beirut in 1994, and with two subsequent publications in Iraq and Egypt, this isThe Diesel’s first English translation and publication. While diverse Muslim voices are increasingly prevalent in Western literature, The Diesel’s belated entrance should make new work of obliterating cultural stereotypes; it highlights not only humanity’s depth and complexity across cultures, but also our ability to access the universal through the sheer joy of language.


Anton Chekhov
Translated by David Helwig
Designed and decorated by Seth
Biblioasis ($14.95)

In a pairing seemingly made in aesthetic heaven, Biblioasis has released a quaint and stunning edition that combines Seth’s vividly drab illustration with the patient and diligent prose of Chekhov. This trio of linked stories, penned toward the end of Chekhov’s career, has appeared elsewhere in different forms, but here translator David Helwig rejuvenates Chekhov’s commitment to pacing and tone, and Seth’s moody drawings and design nicely supplement the mood and timbre of Chekhov’s narratives. Though it easily holds crossover appeal, the book doesn’t seem overly concerned with winning new fans for either Seth or Chekhov, both firmly established as preeminent in their field. Instead, this book offers existing fans of both a new gem for their home libraries.


Azareen Van Der Vliet Oloomi
Dorothy, a Publishing Project ($16)
In Fra Keeler, Iranian-American writer Azareen Van Der Vliet Oloomi turns in a peculiar, surreal narrative of self-exploration and the problematic nature of inheritance. The novel traverses increasingly cloudy waters, only occasionally landing upon moments of clarity—usually when the narrator interacts with other characters. For the most part, though, this is a narrative of isolation, an exploration of self and memory and impulse. The end result is one of extreme and unmitigated subjectivity: readers will find whatever they’re looking for in Fra Keeler, but they can’t avoid Van Der Vliet Oloomi’s infectious jouissance.