sewn paper
Fiction
1990
160 pages
ISBN 0-88984-109-8
$10.95
Victims of Gravity
Dayv James-French
Dayv James-French is an elegant and fastidious writer of stories which disturb yet engage and delight us.
Although this is his first book he is already a master of dialogue and silences and his writing compels us to listen carefully.
Reviewing Dayv James-French's work to date in his Toronto Star column 'New Voices,' Jason Sherman wrote: 'The attraction is James-French's ability to perceive misery without succumbing to it. It is not just that there is humour in his work - and there is a lot of humour - it is that there is hope, as well.'
The first story in Victims of Gravity begins: `There's an art
to this.' The last ends: `whether or not a story has a happy ending.'
In between Dayv James-French reveals a complex world, defined with
wit and compassion, where a happy ending is less important than the
rewards of the journey to it.
`I never know what to say when I'm asked what a story is
"about". What's life about? Any synopsis of the
stories -- "An overnight visit to a farm becomes an
off-the-wall examination of two solitudes as a married woman tries
to isolate the grounds of her emotional dissatisfaction while a
gay man drugs himself past his own pain"
("Cows") -- sounds grim,
as though I were leading the reader to an obvious conclusion; a
neatly-tied up epiphany, if not a moral. Instead, I'm trying
to convince readers of their own experience, its authenticity,
and assure them that someone is paying attention.'
`Even the "Dave" stories aren't entirely about me. An
image, a remembered scrap of conversation, a personal emotional
response I have to examine because of its inappropriateness;
those are starting points. I obsess for weeks before I find my
way into a story. More than a few times I've had to abandon a
story after ten or twelve pages because I couldn't love the
characters enough. At the same time, I don't -- can't -- make
them fit into my obsessions. All of these stories remained
unfinished until the characters surprised me.'
Dayv James-French has a sharp little eye focused on the
telling details of modern life, and an excellent ear for the
nuances of conversation and silence. In his stories, the most
mundane situations become illuminating; they are heightened to
the level of objective correlatives. Dialogue becomes a kind of
poetry of the banal. His characters are often unable to hear
what is spoken to them, listening as they are to the voices of
their own histories. What seems random and coincidental is carefully
fitted into biographies of striking psychological accuracy.
For all the very real horrors of loss and betrayal suffered by
the characters, the stories shine with a hopeful optimism that
might be called wisdom.
`Life is randomly cruel and unforgiving. But we are
at our most hilarious when we are passionately involved in
pretending it isn't. Luckily for us, the peak of emotional
intensity is followed by a moment of silence and, in that moment,
we can choose to be dignified instead of ridiculous. In my
fiction, I try to work towards that moment. Every so often I
discover that being ridiculous is the better choice. At least,
it can be the more honest choice.'
