I was very pleased to receive the Graywolf catalog as it has rapidly become one of my favorite publishers. I've already written at length here about Eula Biss's Notes From No Man's Land, an essay collection I'm looking forward to reading but there were several other titles that I wanted to mention as well. Here are the new releases that caught my eye:

The Winter Sun: Notes on a Vocation by Fanny Howe.

Through a collage of reflections on people, places, and times that have been part of her life, Howe shows the origins and requirements of “a vocation that has no name.” She finds proof of this in the lives of others Jacques Lusseyran, who, though blind, wrote about his inner vision, surviving inside a concentration camp during World War II; the Scottish nun Sara Grant and Abbé Dubois, both of whom lived extensively in India where their vocation led them; the English novelists Antonia White and Emily Brontë; and the fifth-century philosopher and poet Bharthari. With interludes referring to her own place and situation, Howe makes this book into a Progress rather than a memoir.

It sounds like the ultimate process porn (Howe is a poet) and quite a freewheeling look at the work of writers over centuries. It certainly does not sound dull, that's for sure.

Castle by J. Robert Lennon. This one earned a starred review from PW:

"Do not be fooled by the dull narrator of this latest novel from Lennon (Mailman); the author methodically baits readers with mystery and the macabre until the hook is set and then yanks it back with a vengeance. Eric Loesch returns to his hometown of Gerrysburg in upstate New York and sets out to renovate a secluded farmhouse. A strange bird, Eric is unpleasant and obviously burdened with secrets that, though unknown to the reader, seem to be known by the townsfolk. Childhood flashbacks fill in the gaps, and as the terrifying details of his past coalesce, Eric remains loathe to face the truth about some horrific events. Meanwhile, clues in the present lead Eric to understand that someone or something is out to get him, and past and present meet with violent but cathartic consequences. Lennon's work is full of misanthropes and unsettling figures of all stripes, and the promise of emotional or spiritual redemption remains elusive. Here, the surprising denouement packs a powerful and brutal punch."

Lennon also has a new collection of short shorts out: Pieces for the Left Hand. From Graywolf:

A student’s suicide note is not what it seems. A high school football rivalry turns absurd—and deadly. A much-loved cat seems to have been a different animal all along. A pair of identical twins aren’t identical at all—or even related. A man finds his own yellowed birth announcement inside a bureau bought at auction. Set in a small upstate New York town, told in a conversational style, Pieces for the Left Hand is a stream of a hundred anecdotes, none much longer than a page. At once funny, bizarre, familiar, and disturbing, these deceptively straightforward tales nevertheless shock and amaze through uncanny coincidence, tragic misunderstanding, strange occurrence, or sudden insight. Unposted letters, unexpected visitors, false memories—in J. Robert Lennon’s vision of America, these are the things that decide our fate. Wry and deadpan, powerful and philosophical, these addictive little tales reveal the everyday world as a strange and eerie place.

Each of these would interest me in small ways but then I read what Dan Wickett (who is a big fan of Graywolf and got me directed to them in the first place) had to say:

Graywolf has recently published a couple of J. Robert Lennon's books - a new novel, Castle, and the first US printing of Pieces for the Left Hand (story collection previously Lennon2 published in the UK). Castle was another 'can't put down' book - a man returns to his hometown and purchases a fixer upper home on a large plot of land. He then discovers there is a block of land in the middle of his that he does not own. The collection has one to two page vignettes that are complex in their seeming simplicity. Really solid.

"Solid" from Wickett is not a throwaway word and when he notes any book I prick up my ears. I don't always agree with his choices (he's a little more into experimental fiction then I am) but he never chooses anything dull. So J Robert Lennon is certainly someone to give a look (Castle in particular sounds like a great thriller).

After looking over the frontlist titles (which include a lot of poetry if you are interested) I browsed through the backlist and came up with several titles to note:

Graveyard of the Atlantic by Alyson Hagy. (Love that title.) It's a short story collection - here's a bit of the NYTBR review:

“The stories set here will little resemble the airbrushed Outer Banks of Coppertone vacations, peppermint-stick lighthouses and legends of Blackbeard. Stripped of its beach cottages and sentiment, this is America’s breakwater—a fractured comma of sand and cordgrass, its shoals a boneyard for ships that confuse this place with sanctuary.”

Very pretty and having grown up on the insanity that is the coast, I'm mightily interested.

Frantic Transmissions to and from Los Angeles by Kate Braverman. From the pub:

"Frantic Transmissions to and from Los Angeles" chronicles the trajectory of Braverman's Left Coast generation with a voice of singular power. She was an antiwar activist in Berkeley, a punk-rock poet on Sunset Strip, a single mother in the East L.A. barrio, and a woman in recovery at AA meetings in Beverly Hills. By 1990 she was married and settled into a life of writing and teaching. In her forties, Braverman did the unthinkable and moved from Beverly Hills to New York's Allegheny Mountains to a 150-year-old farmhouse. In wide-ranging transmissions, Braverman deftly contrasts the social histories of Los Angeles with her new, timeless rural community; describes the effects of the changing seasons on her Californian, sun-drenched soul; and marvels at how a remote farmhouse can offer surprising consolations. "Library Journal" calls Braverman a "literary genius"; "Rolling Stone" describes her as having the "power and intensity you don't see much outside of rock and roll."

You pretty much had me at the Rolling Stone quote but it does sound like interesting social history wrapped up in a memoir. I'm a sucker for other people's lives (endlessly curious) so this one is hard to resist.

Neck Deep and Other Predicaments by Ander Monson. This one sounds quirky but should be worth a look:

In this sparkling nonfiction debut, Ander Monson uses unexpectedly nonliterary forms — the index, the Harvard Outline, the mathematical proof — to delve into an equally surprising mix of obsessions: disc golf, the history of mining in northern Michigan, car washes, topology, and more. He reflects on his outsider experience at an exclusive Detroit-area boarding school in the form of a criminal history and invents a new form as he meditates on snow.

Kirkus did not like it, PW did. That sort of thing always amuses me - it depends so much on the reviewer (as I know all too well). If you've got someone who prefers a conventional format then this book would be sunk.

A Postcard Memoir by Lawrence Sutin. This one gets me on concept alone:

Drawing upon his collection of quirky antique postcards, Lawrence Sutin has penned a series of brief but intense reminiscences of his "ordinary" life. In the process, he creates an unrepentant, wholly unique account about learning to live with a consciousness all his own. Ranging from remembered events to inner states to full-blown fantasies, Sutin is at turns playful and somber, rhapsodic and mundane, funny and full of pathos. Here you'll find tales about science teachers and other horrors of adolescence, life in a comedy troupe, stepfathering--each illustrated with the postcard that triggered Sutin's muse--and presented in a mix so enticingly wayward as to prove that at least some of it really happened.

And finally, Native American Fiction: A User's Manual by David Treuer. This whole genre is a minefield but Treuer knows what he is writing about. (BE sure to check out his essay on people masquerading as Native American authors that ran in Slate last year.) Here's what he is trying to do with this book:

This book has been written with the narrow conviction that if Native American literature is worth thinking about at all, it is worth thinking about as literature. The vast majority of thought that has been poured out onto Native American literature has puddled, for the most part, on how the texts are positioned in relation to history or culture.

Native American Fiction: A User's Manual is speculative, witty, engaging, and written for the inquisitive reader. These essays—on Sherman Alexie, Forrest Carter, James Fenimore Cooper, Louise Erdrich, Leslie Marmon Silko, and James Welch—are rallying cries for the need to read literature as literature and, ultimately, reassert the importance and primacy of the word.

Treuer is at work on a book about modern reservation life, funded by a Guggenheim award.

Still have other topics to write about (like a lot of wonderful YA reading I've been doing and a great historical novel from Unbridled, The Last Prince of the Mexican Empire plus my idea of books that every library should have) and upcoming news on Guys Lit Wire and the Summer Blog Blast Tour). In other words, it won't be quiet around here anytime soon, promise!