Northampton, MA: Small Beer Press, 2007
Second Chance
Elizabeth Hand’s new novel is described as a “psychological thriller” and a combination of “Patricia Highsmith and Patti Smith.” Hand has lived on the coast of Maine since 1988, the same year her first work was published. Since then, she’s written many novels and short stories, and won Nebula, World Fantasy and International Horror Guild awards. So it isn’t such a surprise that Generation Loss looks at the dark side of life in Maine, where the present is haunted by the past.
Hand’s novel is the mid-life version of a coming-of-age story. Cass Neary, who could be in her late 40s, is given a second chance to revive her artistic career or at least revive her earlier work. Once an edgy, daring photographer in New York, she had gained some notoriety in the seventies for her book of pictures titled Dead Girls. As Cass explains, “It was the right place at the right time. Dead Girls bridged the gap between two camps, photography and punk, my staged self- portraits and documentary images of the downtown scene… I was a hit, and I wasn’t yet twenty years old.” But fame and fortune were illusory, and the hard reality that set in included habitual abuse of drugs and alcohol, a dead-end job, and the loss of a female lover in the collapse of the World Trade Center towers.
So when the opportunity came along, some years later, to reconnect with something vital from the art scene of her youth, with an assignment to interview the now-aged, reclusive photographer whose work had served as a great inspiration to her, Cass jumped at it, thinking, “It was like I was going off on some strange, creepy pilgrimage; like a Nabokov fan setting out to find the motels where Humbert Humbert slept with Lolita.”
She only had to drive up the coast of Maine, where she’d be transported out to an island to meet with her. Readers may think an “Aha” here: Maine symbolizes a place where one could discover the real values in life, “the way life should be.” All she had to do was pack and get there. For Cass, that meant digging her stash of crystal meth out of the freezer, grabbing camera and film, boutique jeans, and black Tony Lama cowboy boots. With the help of Jack Daniels and Rent-a-Wreck, she arrived, wondering what had happened to all the states she thought were between New York and Maine. It had seemed so easy, but then a harsh reality began to intrude. It was blustery late November. She was freezing in her leather motorcycle jacket. Cash was preferred over plastic. Convenience store beer was the booze most readily available. The boat to the island would leave early the next day. She had to stay in a crummy motel. Hung over, she missed her ride. Some “Vacationland.”
There is a degree of intrigue, but also a lot of confusion in the details, as Cass meets the iconic artist, explores the island and has to deal with issues such as local missing children, the murky legacy of a former commune, and uncertain sexual orientations. But Cass does stumble into doing a few things right — even while high almost all the time, sneaky, and a bit of a klepto — and ultimately emerges as “a local hero.” The question becomes: will she stay or return to New York? If Maine offers redemption and rebirth, it also poses the question: is that what she really wants? If that dilemma could provoke anguish or angst, we don’t see any in the denouement. Instead, in now typical Cass-style, back on the mainland, she discovers her car tires slashed. With an “Oh, what the hell,” she goes off for beers with her new friends. Hand ends the book with that unanswered question: does Cass leave or stay? Maybe some of what makes the book a psychological thriller is because of that: wondering how someone from away, like Cass, might find her place in Maine.
Tina Cohen writes in Massachusetts and on Vinalhaven.