Humanity has been reduced to little more than atoms and impulses ricocheting through space and time with only carnal urges to guide them in I, No Other: Narrations & Exaltations by Yarrow Paisley. Readers will have to decide for themselves if this collection is more titillating or toxic, scintillating or sadistic, intelligent or immature, tightly controlled or tumbling out of control. The sharp narration has a definite push and pull, where the flowery language and double entendre dazzle before abruptly shifting to deliver an incisive social critique or snarky quip. If Shakespeare’s eloquence could be tossed into a blender with George Carlin’s polarity, it would only scratch the surface of this anthology. The writing is rich and versatile with each story featuring a unique tone, texture, voice, and mood. With stories connected only by their nihilism, you’re never sure what direction each one will take, though you can be confident there will be prurience, pleasure, and situations that provoke a sense of unease.
The first entry is a hypersexual tale of self-loathing and ubiquitous desire. A man wanders, ruminating on nothing in particular. He discovers people absorbed in their lives and takes advantage of the opportunity to spread his seed far and wide in absurd scenarios, opportune moments, and fantastical escapades. Another story highlights the shifting dynamic within a family, honing in on a child’s insecurities and growing sexual appetite. There is an inherently deeper point made when the son struggles with his mother’s identity based purely on attire color. “One must trust, not the appearance of a thing, but the fact of its appearance.” A story of pills, bars, and criminal attraction, The Revised Minutes explores how our experiences shape us, even when those experiences are vivid constructs of our imagination. The main character conflagrates agony and arousal, highlighting the power of pleasure to transfix. A man’s life is retrofitted and then reformed entirely in Pipe. This foray into the metaphysical philosophizes on all the things people substitute for meaning in life. A flair for the dramatic and penchant for pretension appears in The Cigar, or Fate’s Floating Ember. “All that is left to save my soul is contained within the somatic salubrity, the pneumatic purity, the nobility and undulant ego-enveloping quiddity—of the cigar!”
Audiences will appreciate the author’s clever wordplay while being challenged by the unconventional storytelling. Moods ranging from manic to melancholic are embellished with overtly offensive themes, cerebral metaphors, entitled characters, and otherworldly settings. While the shocking content can prompt contemplation, challenge perceptions, and elicit strong emotions, it often fails to add meaning to the story or contribute to character development, leaving only the taste of garish sensationalism on the palate. Love the book or hate it, readers will not emerge unscathed as they take in the uncomfortable themes that darken human nature. Mainstream sensibilities are far from ready to embrace the hedonism and artistry showcased in I, No Other.
