A short posthumous collection of short stories, Johnson's first in 25 years, since his outstanding "Jesus' Son". Thanks to RH and NetGalley for an ebook ARC of this. The first 3 stories are peopled by his often used young, life-long screw up substance abusers. They were OK - but it is the last 2, longish stories that make this worth reading. Both from the First Person POV of a writer. "Triumph Over the Grave", which seems to have been written as Johnson knew he was dying, is just stunning! It is about love and growing old and becoming ill - and friendship. The ending - wow! The last story, "Doppelganger, Poltergeist" towards the end briefly brings up the connection between mania and genius - and the whole story is an excellent example of exactly that! A story that will be studied for years on how to develop a concept in a unique way (how does he slip 9/11 in for a few pages, and then moves on?). BTW, none of the writers mentioned in either of these stories actually exist. But the stories are also interesting in the way they present how the "academic careers" of authors are often lived.
It has been so long ago that I can not remember when I read my first Denis Johnson book - back in the '80's when he was first getting started, I believe. And I have never read a bad book by him in all that time - this collection is another example of brilliance by one of the very best writers of his generation. Read it.

I loved these longish short stories. The author has quite a gift for gab, and I plan to read him again. They were thoughtful and quirky and odd - many included insights into aging - perhaps because this was the author’s last book.

I csnt say anything new about this. Its beautiful, its sad.


In a moment where we're rightfully trying to be more inclusive of underrepresented viewpoints, this collection offers none of that. The story of sad men squandering their talent and love had never not existed. But the writing is so beautiful it cuts through anyway.

How sad to find my way to Johnson after his death. I am certain that many, many years ago I read Jesus' Son, but I don't remember. It has slipped my mind. And here I am discovering Johnson for the second first time. These words are alive, these stories are beautiful, these people are real. I want to rush out and get my hands on every Johnson novel, short story, play, and poem. I want to run through the fields of this man's language.

****1/2, at least. What an apt parting gift -- full of mystery, humor, power, a flirtation with inscrutability that blooms gracefully, always, into indelibility, a satisfying denial of mere satisfaction as conventionally understood -- for one of our great fiction writers to have left us.

Some lovely passages and imagery, but overall I ended up being underwhelmed and once again confused by the prize giving industry.

There's basically no way I could think myself worthy of reviewing this book. The literary culture of 2018 don't deserve something this good.

Waited 25 years for this book and it didn't disappoint. The title story is a masterpiece--sort of like "What if Walt Whitman came back as a modern-day ad copywriter?" For his culminating work, Johnson dips back into his dysfuctional "uncollected" days for a couple of stories but also glimpses of present-day Denis (he passed away last year). This is a collection which very much covers the arc of his life. The final story has twist and personal relevance that just knocked me for six.

All the stories are told using first-person, as was his general short story mode throughout his career. Complaints that the stories focus too much on "middle-aged white male failures" (so said one reviewer) are fucking idiotic. This is a magnificent book. Get it.

brilliant writing and powerful stories. beware, most of the stories are of men acting badly. toxic masculinity on full display.