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Wednesday, February 12, 2020

Book review: The Most Intangible Thing

I'm fortunate enough to have a regular writing partner, and even more fortunate that she's the amazing author and artist Cly Boehs.  Cly, an Oklahoma native with an endless supply of creativity and an ear for lyrical use of language, first hit the shelves with her wonderful novel Back Then, a deft (and at times heartbreaking) portrait of a family trying to make sense of a world changing too fast to keep up.

Her most recent, The Most Intangible Thing, has a different approach.  Each of the stories has a lurking surreality that is reminiscent of the works of Haruki Murakami.  In Cly's stories, like in many of Murakami's, you are invited into a subtly magical realism -- magical not because of what the characters are doing, but because the world they're immersed in exists in that peculiar shadowland between the real and the imagined, where you're not quite certain if what you're seeing has actual substance or is a product of the mind.

And truthfully, how could you tell?  Our fallible sensory apparatus and brain can only deal with the input they get, so how would you deal with a world where Siamese cats seem to truly have nine lives,  where a man defines his life and death with cryptic clues left behind in a coffee shop, where the end of a woman's college experience coincides with an encounter with horses that seem to have borrowed their reality from her mind, where a book club turns to recounting experiences that defy explanation?


In Cly's deft hands, each of these stories draws the reader in, and we believe what the characters are experiencing as readily as we accept Murakami's fractured world with two moons in the incomparable 1Q84.  Each is a vignette into how our stories define our reality -- and how our relationships create the stories we tell.

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