The fumbling and bumbling of humanity is not beautiful on its own, but it is a crucial part of the equation. Each of them the center of their own world, all of them yearning for someone to put their love into so they could see their love, see that they had it.” “I wondered how many other women had sat on this toilet and stared at the floor. It stands as a sturdy monument to the strangest forms of redemption.
However, like her short stories and feature films, The First Bad Man doesn't split. It was Rick, the homeless gardener who came with the house."Īs in all of July’s work, The First Bad Man grinds the edge between comedy and tragedy so hard that the book should split in two. It took thirty millimeters of red and listened to the labored sawing. "I was woken early by the sound of limbs falling in the backyard.
Consider the first three lines of the novel's second chapter: It’s at its best when it dips in and out of Cheryl’s stream of consciousness, interlacing the hypnotic rhythms of Cheryl’s mind with anticlimactic reflections. I was often struck by the visceral yet simple beauty of the novel. The accompanying action is resplendent with July’s standard repertoire: tons of whispering, wildly romantic conversation, strange love and extremely considerate towel preparation. Suddenly Cheryl finds herself losing control over her life.
As she puts it, “She wasn’t the first bad man ever but the first I’d ever met who had long blonde hair and pink velour pants.” Clee becomes hellbent on making Cheryl tougher through impromptu self-defense lessons. Cheryl’s guest, it turns out, is a young prostitute. Cheryl welcomes Clee at first, but the situation goes way south way fast. The daughter of Cheryl’s boss, Clee is a smelly houseguest who wears pink nylon pants. Cheryl keeps tabs on what’s important to her even when things are not going her way. Cheryl has a rare stress-related throat problem called globus hystericus. She works for a nonprofit called Open Hand, an organization where all the men wear pastel-colored sweaters. Cheryl is in her forties, but she seems even older. Just kidding: Cheryl Glickman has no exciting nickname because her way of life is not very exciting. Miranda July's first novel, The First Bad Man, is the story of Cheryl “The Human Torpedo” Glickman.
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