Amazon.com Review
The nine stories in Mary Clyde's debut collection are populated by people in crisis. There are cancer victims and divorcees, doctors with personal problems and boyfriends with inferiority complexes. Some of the pieces are downright hilarious, others are quietly ironic, but all are branded with Clyde's offbeat perspective and quirky prose. Consider the title story, in which a married landscape architect is abashed by the form of cancer he's diagnosed with: "Dr. Rodgers, insisting that cancers have personalities, has told them thyroid cancer lacks any real oncological ambition." Bad enough to have cancer to begin with, but to be afflicted by "an embarrassment to the whole cancer community" is the straw that eventually breaks the architect's marriage. Both the humor and the cancer are deadlier in "Krista Had a Treble Clef Rose," in which two teenage girls who have met on an oncology ward fight to maintain their sense of normalcy in the face of surgeries, restricted diets, and ostomy bags: "I've got three hairs left," one tells the other at a lunch counter in a mall. "I'm playing up my eyes."
Not every story is about death, per se, though the dead figure into most of them. In "Victor's Funeral Urn," for example, a divorced woman and her young son find a container of ashes by the roadside and are swept up in a search for its next of kin. And in "Pruitt Love" a young man intimidated by his girlfriend's eccentric family attempts to equalize the playing field by using his mother's death as a conversation piece. Love, faith, death, and plastic surgery are just a few of the themes Mary Clyde touches on in Survival Rates, a collection infused with wit, compassion, and a deep wellspring of hope. --Alix Wilber
--This text refers to the
Hardcover
edition.
From Publishers Weekly
Low-key and bland on the surface, the Southwestern characters of Clyde's restrained first collection (winner of the Flannery O'Connor Award for Short Fiction) stay matter-of-fact in the face of alarming circumstance. "Farming Butterflies" introduces a sensitive teenage boy to his mother's dearest friend, the "precarious" Deirdre, whose affinity for bright foods and search for spiritual ascension put a sunny face on desperation and suicidal tendencies. In "Jumping," a woman remembers the ski-lift accident that she survived but that killed her schoolmate Veronica when they were 13: "What I know is that if she'd lived I'd have completely forgotten her... in her death I was caught, frozen in my indifference." Many of the characters in these nine tales come from Mormon families, and address unsettling events with the blank confidence of faith: "Mormons hope tragedy improves the soul," one survivor claims. The successful plastic surgeon in "Howard Johnson's House" struggles to sympathize with his insufferable and socially ambitious mother when she reveals her illness to be "t-e-r-m-i-n-a-l." Grief, disappointment and loss test the mettle and change the contours of these people's lives. But while Clyde's omniscient, smooth-browed confidence makes the stories a pleasure to read, sometimes her determinedly straightforward prose could use some graceful arpeggios.
Copyright 1999 Reed Business Information, Inc.
--This text refers to the
Hardcover
edition.