The Largesse of the Sea Maiden: Stories

Denis Johnson is a genius. This book is fantastic in every way. I can’t read it fast enough… But I’m also fearful it may end. And I don’t want it to ever end.

Denis Johnson is one of my favorite short story writers of all time. Largesse of the Sea Maiden is the final book he worked on in his lifetime, and we are treated to five stories that are quite a bit longer than much of the prose we are used to. Each one explores existence and transcendence, moving from prison or the body to whatever comes next... which is likely nothing. Or finally, peace.Each piece is a self-aware capsule unlike much of his work that came before it. The pieces feel heavily grounded in fiction this time, even fantasy at times, and explore what freedom and relationships mean in their most elemental forms. With Johnson, there was a certain level of realism to his work. As he famously said when asked what the knife represented in ‘Emergency’ at a college book lecture, he replied, “when I was younger, I worked in an emergency room. One night, a man came in with a knife in his eye.” This collection is much different, however, and feels heavily grounded in a more metaphysical and reflective fiction rather than interpreted reality. Of course, the death of a narrator is directly self-referenced, providing a haunting final few paragraphs to one of the pieces. This collection felt like it shed the overarching drug-addled masculinity found in his other works to present a cohesive, reflective humanist reflection on the end of life and what comes next.I truly enjoyed these, and I was lucky enough to hear a preview of the works several months earlier at my MFA program as his editor read from the unreleased manuscript beside the campfire the weekend we learned of his death. It was a gorgeous night beneath the stars, something Johnson would have truly appreciated.

After reading Jesus' Son years ago, I'd wondered if Denis Johnson would ever put out another collection of stories. I've read his novels, but nothing has brought me more joy than his work in the short form. Then this book came out. Then Mr. Johnson passed away. These were the last words he left us. A collection of five long stories. The Largesse of the Sea Maiden obliterated all of my doubts as to whether he still had it in him. This collection recalls the best of what made Jesus' Son so unputdownable. I was shocked and thrilled to see Dundun brought back to the page. But I had to put this down, because I realized I was blowing through it, and would never get the pleasure of reading it for the first time again! It's that kind of a book, folks. Amplified by the fact that there will never be another Johnson release. The writing stops the breath in your throat. A stunning accomplishment. Here's a sentence from The Starlight on Idaho written in the vernacular of a recovering drug addict: "My oldest brother is somebody who the state of Texas won't let him possess scissors." I don't know why that sentence blew me away like it did. A master writing like the illiterate you run into at a gas station. That's why he's so great. He's lived both of those lives. He can bring us characters from the potholes and culverts of humanity and makes them dazzle with sordid brilliance. This collection is a revelation. I'm so sad we won't have another.

The structure throws off the weight of this book - a lot of short stories that feel more like brief anecdotes to start make it seem slight and swift. But the middle section really takes off as the stories are akin to the brilliant Jesus' Son: Moments of beauty within stories of broken people trying to put themselves back together. The end is something of a novella more so than a short story that is off-kilter andenigmatic that leaves the reader wanting a lot more.

One of 20th century American literature's giants among men, Denis Johnson's swan song collection is poignant and truly touching. Though rather slim at 207 pages, this 5 story collection packs a considerable emotional gut punch. Through these "fictional" ruminations, Johnson unveils deeply personal observations, chronicled by narrators who are strikingly similar to the author himself. These stories read like autobiography, with the namez and nonessential character particulars changed. While immersing oneself in these ruminations on writing, teaching, living and gracefully departing this mortal coil, the reader will undoubtedly feel privileged to spend this last twilight hour with this master craftsman. Johnson says his long farewell while enduring his own terminal disease, and I for one have been awed, humbled, and touched by his powers of observation. It is a privilege to hear this poetic voice share his insights into this strange, beautiful life with a wretch like me.

As a writer, Denis is fantastic. His use of language in creating sentences and even scenes is marvelous. As a storyteller, he is good but not great. The stories require a conscious effort to finish the story, instead of being compelled to read the next page and the next.

For Denis Johnson's fine collection of short stories, his quiet, internal monologue seamlessly connects a persistent recollection of loss, renewal and reckoning. Where alcohol, drugs, and family discord leave most users bewildered and alone, Johnson's prior brushes with dissolution portend hope for a reader who dares not venture into the same deep waters.In "Silences" the author weaves a fine collection of micro-narratives from a singular point of view, and thereby inverts the idea of silence by connecting it to profound, explosive loss.The last story of the collection is overlong and meandering, but the preceding powerful voice more than compensates for a lackluster conclusion.