Richard Kalich is considered a foremost postmodern writer and I was glad to sample some of his writing, but I couldn’t really relate to it. Apparently this is an “instanovel” – but to what end? It’s inventive, admittedly, but is little more than some random musings. Autofiction at its most self-referential. Towards the end Kalich quotes Hemingway – “we get from a book what we bring to it” – but sadly I didn’t get anything from it and I didn’t feel that it amounted to very much.

"What is this novel about? The last person you should ask is the author" says Richard Kalich. He makes this obvious by questioning the validity of the work throughout its pages. To me it is a series of reminiscences in an 'Instagram' format, calling up relationships of the author to his beloved but demanding twin, and the three great loves of his life, who ultimately left him.
Set out as a book of random thoughts, or aphorisms, if you like, it constantly challenges your concentration and commitment. Again, in his own words, (he's made it so easy for reviewer's) "In a Man Made Long Ago, I'm hoping to create a full novel with every line, paragraph, page I write. Writing in this form allows me to write what I never have been able to write before".
For sure, every line or paragraph is a new line of thought and there's a great deal of thought gone into prose for it is succinct, spare and punchy.
A Masterpiece of Self-Indulgence? Maybe; Probably. But certainly fresh.

Richard Kalich is a new voice for me, but one that I found very enjoyable in A Man Made Long Ago. I appreciated the author's literary approach and exploration/reflection in this text.