I confess that I have never read Jesus' Son or anything else Denis Johnson has written, but I know he has a cult of devoted --- obsessive, even --- fans. I get that and were I at a different place in my life, or, were the world in better shape than it is, the relentless hopelessness and sorrow that serve as foundation to all these stories might not have made them almost unbearable for me.

That said; I wish I could achieve one iota of the beautiful artistry conveyed in every of Denis Johnson's words, choices, silences, and ideas. His use of language is breathtaking in its ability to convey worlds in so few words, and lives in so few pages, and I would go on, but there are far more skilled reviewers of books and writers who have gone at some length concerning the glory of Denis Johnson's writing, and this slim and posthumous volume in particular, and so I leave you to them and their wisdom.

For me, the sad, bleak, hopelessness of these dark worlds was too much, too heavy to make worth it the admittedly brilliant writing. That's personal, so to speak further to it is unfair to Denis Johnson and anyone considering reading this volume --- which could serve as master class in the art of short story writing.