A Thin Book About a Fat Man

If I told you this was a book about grief then it might put you off reading it. So I won't do that.

If I told you it was a book about a fat old man who dies surrounded by his own filth and isn't discovered for days then that might put you off as well. So forget I mentioned it. And try not to imagine the smell.

If I told you it was a book about a son's relationship with his bully of a father then you might feel you have read that sort of thing before. So we can scrap that.

I am not sure what to say to convince to you read it. And I'd like you to, as it is very good indeed.

I will try this. Bear with me.

Michael Kimball is the master of storytelling in fragments. He breaks down relationships, histories and personalities into tiny chunks and then pieces them together to create his fiction. The result has a weird cumulative effect which is somewhat hypnotic.

I first came across it with his astounding novel Dear Everybody, in which the life of a man who has committed suicide is reconstructed by his brother from the papers and documents he leaves behind. Big Ray uses a similar technique but instead of relying on physical fragments, what he uses are the memories, anecodotes and thoughts of Daniel, Ray's son.

Daniel has been semi-estranged from his father, Ray, a morbidly obese man in his sixties, for some years, although they have recently resumed phone contact. Ray dies from natural causes (could have been one of a huge list of things given his massive size) but is not discovered for some days. Daniel tries to deal with the shame and guilt of this fact while at the same time coming to terms with the loss of his father, a man he neither knew nor liked all that well.

And what Kimball really nails with this novel is that weird thing grief does, how it makes you miss someone and feel sadness for their loss, even if you thought they didn't matter to you. Daniel has lots of reasons to dislike his father, and these are revealed as the book goes on, but he cannot help but grieve for him. Despite himself.

I love Kimball's style of writing. The short sections, sometimes just a line or two long, make you a) read quickly and b) want to read just a few more before you put the book down. As a result, I finished this in just a couple of sittings.

My only problem with the book revealed itself towards the end. The extent of Ray's unpleasantness reaches new levels as Daniel drags up some deep-set memories and, for me, it felt like one disclosure too many and I am not sure it added to the book. Some, I have no doubt, will find that it gives the novel a bit more clout but to me it felt a bit obvious and I don't think it was needed. Up to that point I found Big Ray to be a refreshing and wonky take on serious themes, themes usually contained within misery-lit and confessional memoirs. The final revelation made it less so but didn't stop it being a cracking novel which I am sure is going to win him many new fans, and I wouldn't want to put you off becoming one of them.

Comments

[Janet]

I was just thinking about this very thing the other day: "...that weird thing grief does, how it makes you miss someone and feel sadness for their loss, even if you thought they didn't matter to you."

I have to read this now. I hope it's available in the US.