Finley Macdonald: 2 books

Ignoring his mother’s call, Clerk stands over the crib of the baby who died, lost in dreams of absolute liberation. Outside the hoary house and despairing, post-revolutionary metropolis, music and “real magic” await him. In the man, the search is abruptly resurrected: a desperate, ecstatic hunt...

This poetic narrative was conceived in an unbearably hot apartment where I lived on noodles bought with my saved-up wad. I'd escape in daytime to the hospital canteen, from which I could write & gaze over the university, surrounding cottonwoods & roofs, & the low hills beyond the river....