Jerry Stahl’s Weird, Dark American Heart

Jerry Stahl wants to tell you about “the weird, dark palpitating heart of America,” as it appears in his new novel, Pain Killers:

“I always loved writers like Celine or Terry Southern—in those ‘extremes’ you can really see the heart of the normal,” Stahl said when we met up for coffee recently. That appetite for literary extremes comes through loud and clear in Pain Killers, the plot of which revolves around a private investigator (Manny Rubert, from Stahl’s earlier novel Plainclothes Naked) who’s hired to go up to San Quentin and figure out if a 97-year-old inmate with the German accent could really be Josef Mengele, with a sharp detour into the world of fundamentalist Christian pornography. “It’s almost impossible to shock anybody these days,” Stahl reflected, noting that many of the most “outrageous” elments of his story are based in real-life stuff he uncovered during his research: “You can find Mengele fan sites online if you look hard enough… Our reality is so skewed that the seething roiling madness underneath is leaking through a lot more.”

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7 April 2009 | interviews |

D.A. Powell, “confessions of a teenage drama queen”

I was a male war bride. I was a spy
so I married an axe murderer. I married Joan
I married a monster from outer space

I am guilty, I am the cheese, I am a fugitive from a chain gang
maybe I’ll come home in the spring. I’ll cry tomorrow
whose life is it anyway? it’s a wonderful life

I want to live. I want someone to eat cheese with
who am I this time? I am cuba. I am a sex addict
why was I born? why must I die? I could go on singing

I’ll sleep when I’m dead. I know who killed me
I was nineteen, I was a teenage werewolf, just kill me
kiss me, kill me. kill me later. kill me again

give me a sailor, if I had my way, I’d rather be rich
I wouldn’t be in your shoes. I wish I had wings
I wish I were in dixie (I passed for white) I was framed

I was a burlesque queen, I was a teenage zombie
I was an adventuress, I was a convict, I was a criminal
I did it, I killed that man, murder is my beat, I confess

(for David Trinidad)

Chronic is the fourth collection from D.A. Powell; Poetry magazine has run several poems from this collection, including “crossing into canaan,” “corydon & alexis,” “corydon & alexis, redux,” and “republic.” See also the earlier poems “[listen mother, he punched the air: I am not your son dying]” from Blue Moon Review and “[dogs and boys can treat you like trash. and dogs do love trash]” from The Boston Review.

In an interivew with The Southeast Review, Powell explains his belief that “much of art, and much of life, is simultaneously funny and horrifying”:

“Both humor and horror are expressions of the irrational. In either case, we’re unable to make sense of events. Often, the triggering device in both humor and horror is exactly the same: surprise. It’s a terrible movie, but a good example: in Lady Sings the Blues, when Richard Pryor’s character, Piano Man, dies, Diana Ross’s character… doesn’t know how to respond; she’s uncertain as to whether Piano Man has really died or is just faking… Normally, we experience a surprise and then get to decide immediately whether it’s a good surprise or a bad surprise. Half the time I’m writing, I feel like Billie Holiday. The other half of the time, I feel like Diana Ross performing ‘Good Morning, Heartache.’ I never know if I’m making people sad or making them laugh. Hopefully, it’s both, but I’ll settle for either.”

6 April 2009 | poetry |