I finished Zazen two days ago (devoured it in two days) and I can’t stop thinking about it. I won’t call it perfect, because what’s a perfect novel and really who would want to read such a thing. What it is is that rare work of art that is completely, precisely itself.
This is where I reveal myself as a lousy book reviewer because I can’t explain it better than that. What is it, exactly, that makes Zazen such a remarkable book for me? I mean, yeah it’s super smart and the prose is gorgeous and the dialogue pitch perfect, the characters fully realized and complex, the plot compelling, the universal truths revealed all true-ringing etc. All that good stuff. But it’s more than that. (Forgive the gushing. I get this way about fiction done so very right.) It’s that thing that makes (in my opinion) Astral Weeks the best album ever. Why is it the best ever? I have no fucking clue. It just is. It’s that feeling. That rightness. That magic. Zazen’s got it.
In which I totally gush about Zazen by Vanessa Veselka
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I am also not a capable reviewer, and I think maybe we share the same reason: I don’t read fiction to deconstruct and analyze it. Fiction (a novel) is story-telling. I don’t need or want to know why one story has a larger impact on me than another, or why one story-teller (or novelist) reaches me deeper than another. It is about what happens within my psyche as the reader, how well the story absorbs me. It is not important to me as reader whether or not any other reader feels what I feel, enjoys what I enjoy, fears what I fear … you’re on you’re own, reader.
Your endorsement is a good enough review for me! Can’t wait to read it!