About the author:
Kathryn Thompson is pursuing a law degree at John Marshall Law School, Chicago. Her fiction and poetry have appeared in a number of literary magazines, including Fiction International, the Portland Review, and the Midwest Poetry Review. Close Your Eyes and Think of Dublin: Portrait of a Girl is her first published novel. She plans to draw upon her experience as a mail carrier in Jamestown, Rhode Island, for her next book.
About Close Your Eyes and Think of Dublin:
Kathryn Thompson's Close Your Eyes and Think of Dublin: Portrait of a Girl is a brilliant Joycean hallucination of a book in which the richness of Leopold Bloom's inner life is found in a young American girl experiencing the things that vexed James Joyce: sex, church, and oppression. Thompson's favorite mode is Circe, Night Town, the fantastic, and often the nightmarish. Her narrator enters the "realms of the clinically genderless, disrupts the underworld of consensual male meaning, overturns the blackjack tables, busts through the saloon doors, a freelance sheriff in a coon hat." She has a bold, uncompromising political intelligence and the astonishing capacity not only to finger the culprit - the spirit of the age ("conestoga wagons full of fratboys") - and make it confess, but also to make it sing: "spew the wet phlegmy expletives, the louies and ralphs of toothless men chewing tobacco on their own benches; suck stone, sign that declaration yea or nea, ptooey and blat just like that."
She is a marvelous new presence on the American literary scene.
"Kathryn Thompson's writing is what I'd imagined a truly postmodern, feminist writing would be—witty, brilliant, risky, powerful, engaging—informing and reforming the conventions of narrative by infusing it with an immensely pleasurable and slyly instructive female subjectivity. Thompson's ear is so fine we not only hear the laugh of the Medusa, we hear ourselves laughing with her."—Valerie Ross, Editor-in-Chief of The Cream City Review
"Stand back! Here comes the newest dominatrix of postmodern fiction. Her prose in Close Your Eyes and Think of Dublin: Portrait of a Girl is a strung-out sizzling cybernetic wire, jerking and twitching with monstrous voodoo energy, like some indomitable athlete fed on deconstruction and Dexedrine come alive in words. It is an attenuated howl of pure feminine lust and anger disciplined by real intelligence. This is a beautiful terror of a first novel."—David Porush, author of The Soft Machine: Cybernetic and Rope Dances
"At last, a woman to rival Joyce's style and Barth's playfulness, a new writer whose dazzling prose illuminates the real world of family, love, and growing up. This novel will touch you and infuriate you while at all times reaffirming what the art of fiction really is."—John Clark Pratt, author of Vietnam Voices and The Laotian Fragments
When March arrives I take a trip, go to New York, buy myself a shotgun and a loft. Drop the nail in the soup. Rebuild Dante's inferno, stoke the fire where the bums keep warm. Don't mind me, bums, I tell them, I'm just one of those educated fellas second oldest after Harvard having a real whirl. (They had a certain reticence, were taut about the mouth and lips; they oppressed you with their knowledge. They were meticulous in expression.) A procession marches by—urban blacks in jack-up jive—flapping their sashes of one-upmanship; yo; immigrant families swoon and the Grand Marshall yips. Some majorette in nude pantyhose flips her baton to the passing cars and it is me.
(If I do it in daylight in daddy's garage some shithead coroner will screw up the autopsy and claim I died of natural causes.)
I have left the room/where scientists come and go/pithing Michelangelo.