Pieces for the Left Hand

Tiny Upstate town
Undergoes many changes
Nonetheless endures.
“Brevity,” from Pieces for the Left Hand by J. Robert Lennon

The 100 anecdotes collected in Pieces for the Left Hand are loosely held together by a setting (a small upstate New York town and its environs) and a narrative consciousness (an unemployed man who muses on these tales as he takes a daily walk). All are very brief–none more than three pages–and most have a gnomic or aphoristic quality. They touch on themes of mistaken identity, the pitfalls of memory, and unanticipated consequences, often refusing to come to a clear resolution.

In many ways, they resemble some of Kafka’s shorter pieces: they take place in a world much like our own, though slightly askew, and leave the reader with a feeling of uneasiness. Good intentions are frequently thwarted: a professor who debunks a bogus Viking obelisk is vilified while the hoaxer becomes a hero; a man who unwittingly dismisses a phantom laundry folder becomes a pariah when he tries to carry on the anonymous act of kindness. Identity is slippery: two professors carry on a feud over the spelling of “gray” or “grey,” continuing to argue even when they switch sides. Nothing is quite what it seems, but even when the truth is revealed it doesn’t resolve the anecdotes’ questions.

The title suggests an off-handedness to the stories, though they are in fact tightly written, highly controlled exercises. Lennon’s writing is evocative and restrained, with a note of bemusement pervading the anecdotes. Like miniature sketches, they imply much more than they state; though the impulse is to read the collection quickly, popping the little nuggets like bonbons, Pieces for the Left Hand deserves to be sipped slowly, like poetry or a fine port wine, letting the suggestions sink slowly into the reader’s consciousness.

The Graywolf Press paperback edition is another example of a book that works well as a physical object. The cover art shows a paint-by-numbers man (one assumes each numbered squiggle represents an anecdote) walking through a wintry landscape. This figure is echoed in the lower right corner of the odd pages, making a flip-book animation of the narrator’s circumgyrations. Try doing that, Kindle!