The best fiction that writes against narrative convention

I revere writing that doesn't cling to the ridiculously sacrosanct principle that conflict is essential to stories—especially conflict between good and evil. If any writer’s work completely sidesteps the convention of plot, it’s Lutz, who also publishes under the name Garielle Lutz. These voice-driven stories—of nameless folk seeking small comforts where they can find them—are nearly undescribable. Stomach-dropping little language surprises abound, and Lutz has a penchant for preserving American English heirloom words and phrases such as “Car-coat,” “shoehorn,” and “frankfurter shack". Many of the stories describe transient, uneasy relationships, yet laugh-out-loud humor is present, too. Some of the stories seem less to move forward narratively than to rock to and fro. Those interested in pure language-forward narratives by a master of sentences should read Lutz.

Just like life, this supple narrative about a village in Warwickshire, England is full of beauty, gruesomeness, and sudden death. Without manifest plot points as such, the narrative seems to float past the range of eccentric townspeople after a destructive flood and later an epidemic of poisonings. Comically, none of the characters seem to take that death seriously. Comyns’ tender gift for describing humans in intimate communion with nature will make you long for flowers, forests, and abounding nature-amid-towns which we no longer experience in today’s world. This writer is neither optimistic nor pessimistic about humanity--but observationally brilliant. In their wild, hilarious ranges of behaviors, her characters too are lovely specimens living at the marshy banks of an omnipresent river.

Decades before the TV series Grimm, Angela Carter rewrote Grimm’s and other classic European fairy tales with a feminist bent, heightening the sexuality just under the surface of the original tales. Even more exciting, this collection is sentence-forward, meaning that the dazzling, tumbling-long, and flawless sentences are front and center in this gifted author’s work.

The content is strong and includes a retelling of the Bluebeard tale with a grotesque patriarch forbidding his young bride to enter a locked room. In Carter’s version, the old pervert never gets a chance to murder his curious wife. Another story describes fetishistic, depraved customs in an isolated village so unnervingly that your view of forests will permanantly shift. Carter’s short stories have been heralded by literary writers for years as a precious secret.

A mysterious, melancholy narrative translated from French is rendered in stripped-down sentences, following a novelist, Mia, after a death in the family. The subsequent plot of subterfuge and corporate crime is so full and busy with knotty, overly complex occurrences that it begins to seem a deliberate distortion and exaggeration of the convention of plot itself. Through the character of Mia, the gifted Redonnet reports tragic and powerful occurrences in flat, clear prose that packs emotion just under the surface of the affectless sentences. The word “Candy” recurs hauntingly through the novel: as a song title, as the name of a character in a show, and as the name that Mia’s lovers call her. This slight novel leaves searing traces of emotional impact long after you read it.

Constructed nonlinearly, this funny, playful, and complex novel concerns our culture’s pressure on men to “be” something; it’s also about the human sense of self in general. It has no conventional plot, though Kalich has created a perfectly workable structure: a kind of index that builds in intensity. Without giving particulars as to geography, age, family, or employment, the paragraph-length descriptions of Charlie P reveal him as hyperbolically great or defeated. Charlie P has accomplished both everything and nothing.

The character is an iconographic blank, perhaps an engineer or former bitcoin-seeker who, for all his striving, suffers an inability to engage with the world; perversely, he views that as “giving in.” It’s no understatement to say that readers of Charlie P, sometime in their lives, will have met a Charlie P.