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THE BOOK OF A THOUSAND SINS
by Wrath James White
(Two Backed Books, 190 pp., tpb, $14.95, ISBN# 1-933293-13-6, 2005)

It's never happened this way before: visiting a writer's blog before I'd read a single word of his fiction. But I'd been prompted to follow a couple of links and was mightily impressed by what was there: no here's-what-I-did-today yawners, but impassioned, beautifully articulated essays that were the equal of (and even superior to) a lot of op-ed pieces in major newspapers and magazines. I was instantly eager to read this man's fiction.

So does this collection of 15 mostly concise stories fulfill such promise? Well, that's a question with no quick answer.

The book starts out quite well with "He Who Increases Knowledge," in which a man's search for God leads him to a Tijuana brothel and an unlikely encounter whose culmination comes off like a cross between literary porn and the end of 2001: A Space Odyssey. It's unique territory, and White stakes it out well.

Like a pitcher throwing changeups, he immediately changes the pace with "More Maggots," in which a victim of a flesh-eating virus seeks out a treatment that seems worse than the condition itself. Further high-point ricochets of tone and approach include "A Friend In Need," a ripping, cinematic monster yarn that would make a perfect short for director John Singleton, and "My Very Own," which starts out on James Ellroy turf before taking a turn for the Dahmeresque.

However, the book isn't without some significant letdowns. "Fly" is a thoroughly predictable piece about two not-very-nice people destined to meet each other. Likewise, "The Myth of Sisyphus" is another comeuppance tale of a soggier sort, while "Couch Potato" mainly seemed annoying, with its endless co-opting of TV catch phrases. "A Dialogue Between A Priest and A Dying Man" is certainly ambitious, a revenge fantasy for the post-9/11 age that also frames an argument for atheism, although it's hobbled by one huge unanswered question: How the hell did a Jesuit chaplain get this way?

Some of the work here seems pretty clearly influenced by Edward Lee (with whom White has collaborated), but White is one of the few who appear to understand what usually carries Lee's splatfests beyond simple gore-mongering: He's funny, sometimes damned funny. This lesson gets an extreme workout in the collection's titular novelette, which involves a legendary tome whose catalog of atrocities will, when committed, connect the person with Hell. It's amazing enough that somebody could even think of acts that make those of De Sade's 120 Days Of Sodom look like amateur hour . but they're just so over-the-top that you can't help but laugh. At least, I really, really hope that was the intention.

Something Edward Lee doesn't often get credit for is the deeply philosophical touch that he can bestow on something when he wants to, and White is a kindred spirit. This is a writer with an obvious interest in probing the nature and nuance of existence. "Munchausen by Proxy" postulates a mythic answer to the question of why there is so much suffering in the world, and in "Awake," a man's skepticism toward the meaning of life unlocks undreamt-of potential. Surprisingly, perhaps, one of the very best stories here is the quietest: "Resurrection Day," in which the dead return to life, but in a non-threatening way that permits the story to serve as a thoughtful meditation on the bonds of family and friendship, as well as the impact of overpopulation.

As a writer who has emerged just recently, Wrath James White is no doubt still in search of narratives that are worthy of his voice. He's easily at his best when he finds a way to balance his head and his heart with his anger. When he starts to truly meld those narratives with the easy authority of his nonfiction voice . well, I really want to read those books too. And there's plenty of evidence here that he's on his way.