The Half-Life of Remorse

I really enjoyed this book. The title is brilliant. Chick is full of remorse for his past deeds and Sam is badly damaged by his past. One horrendous event links them. I like the style of writing and that most of the story is told by three people. Sams pain and Chicks remorse are beautifully written about and it is a story I will definitely remember.

Many believe that people come into our lives for a reason—to provide support or companionship during a critical time, to impart knowledge or wisdom we might not otherwise gain, or to help us reach a goal we might have believed was unattainable.

When Chick and Sam meet, both have been living on the streets for some time. Neither is exactly sure for how long, or is really interested in dwelling on how they came to this point. Both have held jobs from time to time to help them survive, but for the most part, it's been their survival instinct that has kept them alive, although both might question if seeking shelter and food wherever you can find it, no matter how unsavory, is really living.

"When you live out here on the street, it don't matter much what town you're in. One place is pretty much the same as the other far as I can tell, and I figure I been around more than most. Sure, some places maybe got nicer weather than others, and some's got cops or thugs, which is pretty much the same thing, with nothing better to do with their time than roust some poor beggar from a park bench or a bus station so the rats can have it to theirselves, but still in all, you figure out what's what soon enough if you want to keep breathing, which maybe sometimes you do and maybe sometimes you don't."

Sam sees in Chick somewhat of a kindred spirit, although they are very different from one another, but Sam invites Chick to share the rudimentary shelter he has put together under the stairway of a church. Sam insists he is a wizard, one who has lived for hundreds or perhaps thousands of years, so Chick worries a little bit about Sam's mental condition, but little by little they begin to trust and count on each other, and Chick helps find ways to make their meager day-to-day existence a little more palatable.

Chick has spent his adult life haunted by a crime he was part of when he was a teenager. He's never been able to shake what he saw, or his guilt in simply just being a bystander as things unfolded. When Sam starts having visions of a man in trouble, a man whose life is apparently in danger, he wants to try and help. And when Chick realizes what Sam's visions mean, he must make a critical decision: does he help Sam return to the scene he keeps seeing in his mind's eye, and risk having to divulge his own role in the incident, or should he let Sam's delusions continue?

Meanwhile, Claire, Sam's daughter, hasn't seen her father since she was very young, but she's never given up hope that he'll return to her someday. She lives with her own emotional and physical pain, but she is unprepared for what her lifelong wishes might mean for all those involved.

The Half-Life of Remorse may turn on a very convenient coincidence, but it doesn't lessen the power of this book. This is a story about two men trying to steer clear of their past, although only one really knows what they're doing. It's also a story about the kindness of strangers, and the empathy one shows another, even when doing so may be harmful or hazardous to themselves. It's also the story of love and redemption, hope and the power of memory, and the beauty of friendship.

The book shifts narration among all three main characters, and Sam's portions take a little bit of getting used to, because he uses very fancy words befitting of his perception of himself as a wizard. But the emotions, particularly in Chick's parts, are palpable even though he is a man of few words, and you can tell he really doesn't know how to handle the situation he's found himself in. The other quirk is that because Chick, in particular, isn't well-educated, his narration tends to have a lot of "must ofs" instead of "must haves," and other grammatical errors. (I seriously had to turn my inner editor off when reading those sections.)

Grant Jarrett is a pretty fantastic writer. While his first book, Ways of Leaving (see my original review), had almost a Tropper-esque vibe to it, this book is more spare in its narration, at times reminding me a little of Kent Haruf. He really deserves some renown for his talent, and perhaps The Half-Life of Remorse may push him into the spotlight. It certainly should.

NetGalley and SparkPress provided me an advance copy of the book in exchange for an unbiased review. Thanks for making this available!

Here is a story for our time. It’s fresh, moving, fall-down-laughing funny in places, and has the best character development I’ve seen lately. I was growing cranky from having to pan other people’s bad books, and I requested this DRC from Net Galley and Sparkpress almost as an afterthought; then it nearly knocked me off my feet with its voice and sheer creative power. It was published last week, and you should get it, read it, and then make other people do the same thing. It’s that strong.

The format is a simple one, and because there’s not a lot of plot or setting, everything boils down to the inner monologues of the three characters here. We start and conclude with a brief narrative in the third person omniscient, and in between we have the staggered monologues of two homeless men and a professional single woman confined to a wheelchair. Sam has blocked out a traumatic past, likely suffering from PTSD and who knows what else. His monologue is a literary sounding one, and indeed, he was once an academic. Now he calls himself a wizard, and at times, we nearly believe him.

The other homeless man calls himself Chick. He is not a young man either, and is running from his own misdeeds, and Sam tells us that Chick “…is a testament to life’s unrelenting desperation to continue.” Chick is not literate, but he manages to communicate brilliantly in his own tumbledown, roughshod, clumsy manner. Every now and then he tries to use a slightly larger vocabulary than he possesses, and ends up referring to “the persecuting attorney” and not wanting to “cast inspersions” upon the characters of others. Though he is thoroughly profane and limited grammatically, in his own way Chick is as eloquent as Sam.

The third character, a less developed but still important one, is Claire. Claire lost the use of her legs when her family was invaded by criminals during her childhood. Both Sam and Chick were there, but at the time, they did not know each other.

Jarrett writes in a way that is wholly original, and the juxtaposition of Sam’s monologue with Chick’s is startling and very funny. Somehow this author manages to slam tragedy and humor right up against one another without diminishing either. Most importantly, he is able to portray both Sam and Chick as men that still have purpose and a personal code of honor despite the horrors they have experienced and the bad choices they have made. Jarrett’s prose is the sort that grabs me by the hair and doesn’t release me until the story is finished. At one point, I found myself lightheaded because I had forgotten to breathe.

This novel is highly recommended to everyone that loves strong fiction.