by BRADY UDALL
Brady Udall is a queer name, but one you should definitely remember. A born and bred Arizona man, Brady compellingly sets his stories in such a barren yet beautiful state of isolation. 'Letting Loose The Hounds' is essentially a collection of his short stories, some of which have previously appeared elsewhere. In these 11 stories he grapples with sheer human drama skillfully, observing life's little intricacies as though he's actually experienced everything that his characters have. And while some of his characters may initially sound like oddballs, get to know them a little better and you'll see they're the same as you and me: forever fond of reminiscing about the old days and paranoid about what the future could hold.
In its most frank verses, Brady's writing may remind of Hubert Selby Jnr's in 'Last Exit To Brooklyn,' whilst the style in which he presents some of the stories excitingly whiff of Douglas Coupland's writing talent as in his cult 'Generation X' novel.
The two most compelling stories are arguably 'The Opposite of Loneliness' and 'Vernon' (which is named after an Arizona town, fact fans), both of which involve some open-road travel and aspirational, Kerouac-flavoured pangs: 'I keep quiet. I'm trying to enjoy the hush of the air in the trees, the flat, empty sky. The narrow road we're on is littered with broken branches that crunch and jump up when we pass over. Every second we're moving higher and higher to a place where the air is so sharp and clean it can make you forget who you are' ('Vernon').
All stories are totally unrelated yet are tactfully bound by the characters' ways of dealing with their lives, most of which seem huge disappointments to themselves, as in 'Buckeye The Elder': 'As far as I can tell, our family is nothing more than a bunch of people living in the same house who are disappointed in each other.' Later, in the 'Ballad of The Ball and Chain' chapter, it's then reckoned by one guy that 'Marriage is the worst damn idea anybody ever came up with. If we stopped and thought logically about it, we'd ban the whole thing. What's the purpose in it? Shouldn't we be free to love each other and not be obligated?'
If you still aren't convinced that you might, like myself, become obsessed with 'Letting Loose The Hounds,' at least give the shortest of the short stories in the 2-page wonder 'The Wig' a shot. It's subtle, tenderly endearing drama and fantastically observed in the same way that the brief 'Ada' chapter in the aforementioned 'Last Exit in Brooklyn' was.
Arizona towns and the people who live in them sound as though they're ducking and diving straight out of Bruce Springsteen songs, and Brady Udall brings them all alive so modestly it's as though he knows every last person and every last place he writes about.
Hence check the man and his humble tales out, sooner rather than later�
(Steve Rudd)
ISBN 0-09-959131-6
www.randomhouse.co.uk