Kissing the Damned
by Mark Foss
Oberon, 2005
Reviewed by Devon Shepherd
Kissing the Damned is a book of linked
short stories by Mark Foss that follows Murray Lockhart, of whom the
back jacket warns "is very good at thinking up touching appeals for
money, but in his own life, finds it difficult to open his heart to
love". The trouble with Murray – a directmail marketer for
Friends of Africa is not merely that he finds dismantling the wall that
guards his heart arduous and seldom worth the bother, it’s that he
lacks the required skillset to love. And woe to anyone willing to play
teacher, for only one fate awaits her – the puncture and subsequent
severing of her heart by Murray’s "patented souldestroying
glare".
Although we are told often – lest we forget about the
menacing glare that has "poisoned relationships with Cassandra,
Nicky and Paulette", and is capable of dramatic effects like "pummeling
Lisa against a chair" so that she "touched her lips as if to
check for blood", it remains a vague (read: unconvincing) addition
to a character who is so skilled at sabotaging his relationships that
such a behavioural quirk strikes the reader as contrived. That is, the
look, is an annoying, ineffective addition. The same can be said for
other elements of this book.
Consider the structure. This book is
more than a collection of stories. Rather it reads like a parade of
episodes – visits to Murray’s parents, Burt and Virgie’s, cottage
on ..., a college party; escorting a Nigerian across the frozen Rideau
Canal; close encounters of a sexual kind in Tazania – that illustrate
how Murray wears his flaws like water wings, to keep himself bobbing on
the surface of his relationships. While there are some notable
exceptions (Guest House, Escort), each episode has not been structured
well enough to withstand the winds of scrutiny were it to stand on its
own. However, the stories, arranged together, buttress and shield each
other. Here, the sum stands, surprisingly strong, however flimsy its parts. Than why,
pray tell, has Foss inserted these annoying recapsparagraphs that
summarize or relay information of an episode prior – that
unnecessarily detract from the precarious strength of this work that
only derives from stories as a collection?
Perhaps more puzzling than the
structure are the threads left dangling carelessly throughout the book.
Murray’s father, Burt lost his friend, Ted, to a torpedo strike at
war. Ted, a childhood friend, saved Burt’s life when he fell through a
thin patch of ice when they were boys. Murray claims , "he hardly
ever talked about the war until I came home that night with the earring.
I guess he lost Ted and then he thought he lost me to the world of
homosexuals." But the fear is not solely his father’s. Murray,
himself, shudders at the touch of another man and his blood boils when
taunted with the slur "faggot". He also fears losing his
girlfriend Lisa to her lesbian friend, Brie. All this sexual anxiety and
homophobia for what? Is the implication that Burt and Ted’s
relationship was, even if unconsummated, homoerotic? Does Murray sense
this, but unable to deal with it, come to fear his own (and others’)
homoerotic impulses? Or is this reader trying hard to be charitable,
trying hard to give purpose to these little extra pieces that dangle
around, distracting teasers that never really deliver on the depth that
is promised.
With all that being said, there are
still things here to be admired. Foss tells Murray story in the perfect
pitch a loose comfortable style that rarely strikes a false note.
Moreover, there are some real gems among the episodes. The Escort,
expertly juxtaposes the emotionally frigid Murray with jocular warmth of
Frank Chande, a visitor from Nigeria, and in doing so, poignantly
illustrates just how hard it is for Murray to reach out. Sleepover
captures that ambivalence that we often feel, but rarely admit, at the
beginning of a relationship. Games We Play expertly draws on the
tensions that exist between friends. Most of Foss’ characters
read true. Murray, however emotionally stunted, is complex and likable,
and in his exchanges with Brie, a unique and well constructed character,
slice of real comedy shine through.
However, faults and all, Kissing the
Damned is an entertaining collection.
Devon Shepherd is a Vancouver based
writer, who will always be a Torontonian heart. |
