THE ANGEL OF ROME: AND OTHER STORIES (2022)
CITIZEN VINCE (2005)
By Jess Walter
I’ll read anything Jess Walter writes if, for no other reason, the man seldom repeats himself. The closest he comes is his (sometimes begrudging) love for his hometown of Spokane, Washington.
I am not a fan of short stories, but The Angel of Rome (Harper, 275 pages) is Walter at his eclectic best. The title tale is set in 1993 and probes the life-changing path of reinvention by accident. Jack Rigel sets off under false pretenses to study Latin in the Eternal City and is a hopeless joke to his teachers and fellow students. A series of fortuitous misunderstandings places him in the orbit of down-on-his-heels actor Ronnie Tower and famed Italian icon Angelina Amadio, the namesake “Angel of Rome.” Jack is reborn as a script doctor, a writer, and a screenplay maven.
Several stories—“Drafting” and “Fran’s Friend Has Cancer” tackle the Big C, the first through Myra, whose voracious physical appetites draw her into numerous affairs; the second a bittersweet comedic take on non sequitur conversations and talking past one another.
“Town & Country” ask us to consider how a young man can come out as gay—in Boise, Idaho no less–to a father who bragged of being “quite a cocksman” in his youth but is now suffering from dementia and has a Trump-loving girlfriend. The most surprising thing, though, is the memory unit into which his father moves. Call it the 1950s reborn in a place where illusions are made believable. “Famous Actor” also deals with fictions when a Bend, Oregon barista has a one-night stand with an egoist insisting he’s not one. She’s not fooled. Clay is, though, in “The Voice.” Radio personality Claude takes up with Clay’s mother then takes off with a guitar teacher. This one is about those who go and those who stay.
“The way the World Ends” finds two individuals unknowingly interviewing for the same job at Mississippi State University. Neither is right for the Deep South and most of the search committee fails to shows up as an apocalyptic storm bears down. So why not have a sybaritic sendoff? Toss in a Black student in the process of coming out who bears the Biblically appropriate name of Jeremiah. Does a liberal campus offset an ideological cesspool like Starksboro?
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To really appreciate Jess Walter, immerse yourself in one of his novels. After voraciously consuming gems such as Beautiful Ruins and The Cold Millions, I turned to an older work, his Edgar Award-winning Citizen Vince (HarperCollins, 293 pages). What a book!
Imagine a low-level thug testifying against high-level ones. If ever anyone needed to be in the Witness Protection Program it’s Marty Hagen. He is secreted out of New York to Spokane and is reborn as Vince Camden. Over the years he builds a life that suits him. His official job is making donuts, but has several outside-the-law ventures going, including a credit card scam. It’s small potatoes stuff; Vince is a thief but not a monster. He is content to live among hookers who want to be realtors, postal carriers skimming small kickbacks, guys playing the numbers, and blue-collar folks who don’t care about hustlers because they feel like they’ve been screwed by the broadly defined Establishment.
The story takes place on the eve of the 1980 presidential election and Vince, who has never voted, feels like he should do his duty. For whom should he cast his vote? Reagan? Carter? Anderson? His burgeoning civic ethos leads him to ask questions, though most of those with whom he drinks at down-market bars couldn’t care less. Vince feels unsettled. He begins to count the number of people he knows that are dead and this makes him feel even more anxious, as does the murder of two guys close to him and the appearance of a criminal he recognizes as Ray Sticks, a brutal mob enforcer.
Vince never killed anyone, but he left New York owing money to Mafia kingpins with a reputation of not caring about the relative severity of how they were offended. As Vince sees it, his only shot at staying alive is to head back to New York and make amends. Those who recall the Big Apple circa 1980 know it was a place that wore its social problems on its sleeve. Few, including cops, are on the level and there is an underlying stench of danger that made Spokane smell like a rose garden.
Citizen Vince wends its way to a surprisingly finish that takes us from the streets to the voting booth and beyond. Walter’s novel is gritty, tense, yet unexpectedly tender and redemptive. Just when you think you’ve got it measured, Walter skillfully veers left instead of right. This is among the many things that makes Walter a writer who makes you grateful you learned how to read.
Rob Weir
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