They Had Goat Heads
By D. Harlan Wilson

Reviewed by CL Bledsoe

Atlatl Press, 2010
ISBN: 978-0-9826281-2-6
perfect bound, 146 pp., $12.95

What is the difference between bizzarro writing and surrealism? Something like the difference between a beer and a pint of wood-grain alcohol. Bizzarro heralds more from the Kafka-esque tradition, in that the focus is not on beautiful breaks from reality; bizzarro writing has no interest in necessarily liberating the mind, or helping push ones perspective to loftier concerns. Bizzarro worlds are ugly, unsettling, and challenging. They aren’t looking for beauty. They’re reveling in the dirty, the deformed, the horrible absurdity of life.

There’s been an explosion of bizarro writing in recent years, with a handful of recognizable and talented writers standing out. This has spawned a lot of emulators. Frankly, it seems like every journal I’ve read in the last couple years has thrown in at least one pseudo-surreal story with obvious Calvino-knockoff "symbolism," the kind of stuff teenagers write when they get high. It’s giving bizzarro, surrealism, hell—it’s giving writing in general a bad name. Thankfully, Wilson isn’t guilty of this sloppy, knee-jerk "symbolism."

This isn’t to say that his stories aren’t meaningful. The stories in this collection focus on that horrible absurdity, but often with a balancing sense of humor—they remind me of something my father used to say: “Sometimes, you’ve got to laugh to keep from crying.” In the title story, a child notices that those outside the house have "goat heads." The child wants to close the door, and this fear is justified when one of them throws a brick through the window. The child’s mother is a marionette; the father pays no attention. This is a world of confusion and alienation, a world of menace. In “Quality of Life,” Wilson interjects pathos into the mix. Here, the narrator’s strange nosebleed is revealed to be his memories leaking out of his nose. The doctor and nurse he sees don’t seem too terribly enthused about helping him. He is alone. Luckily, it seems as though he won’t remember that for very long.

In several of Wilson’s stories, characters are stuck repeating absurd actions or situations. Routine situations explode into confusion. When these characters look toward authority figures—police, doctors, parents—they are rarely given help. Mostly, these authority figures hinder more than help. The characters tend to have stoic responses to these horror-shows. In “Hovercraft,” a child watches as his family leaves him one by one, his father spectacularly in a hovercraft. His response is to crawl into bed. In “Giraffe,” a relationship falls apart while giraffes mysteriously appear in inopportune places. These stories don’t have neatly tied-up endings. Characters don’t necessarily learn valuable lessons. Often, they are left to continue facing a broken world.

Wilson has included a mix of short-short fiction, longer short stories, micro-fiction, and one illustrated story. I would consider this a solid introduction to Wilson’s work—reading through these stories, I really wanted to read Wilson’s longer work, which is about as much as a compliment as I could give him.

Visit Atlatl Press on the web at http://atlatlpress.com/

CL Bledsoe is the author of two poetry collections, _____(Want/Need) and Anthem, and a short story collection called Naming the Animals. A poetry chapbook, Goodbye to Noise, is available online at www.righthandpointing.com/bledsoe. A minichap, Texas, was recently published by Mud Luscious Press. His story, "Leaving the Garden," was selected as a Notable Story of 2008 for Story South's Million Writer's Award. He’s been nominated for the Pushcart Prize 3 times. He blogs at Murder Your Darlings, http://clbledsoe.blogspot.com Bledsoe has written reviews for The Hollins Critic, The Arkansas Review, American Book Review, The Pedestal Magazine, and elsewhere.

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