Now You See It . . .

"The main pleasure of reading [Now You See It . . . ] resides in its steadily accruing portrait of a sensibility—how it feels to be from Cokesville, how being from Cokesville shapes thought and perception. Local mentality can be a greased pig of a literary objective, typically slathered as it is with layers of sentiment and convention, but Monk's relatively minimalist approach gets a grip on her subject with a certain businesslike lack of fuss that is itself exemplary of the regional style. Monk's confident, knowing voice makes a strong debut in Now You See It . . . establishing Cokesville and its people in our imaginary geography."—Chicago Tribune

 

"Monk, who grew up in Pennsylvania coal-and-steel country, sets her stories in the fictional town of Cokesville, where gardens grow through slag heaps, women scrub their sidewalks free of soot, and men scrounge for jobs that are likely to kill or maim. Set mostly among Polish immigrants and their descendants over a forty-year period, the stories use deadpan humor to combat a sense of hopelessness and economic futility. The most compelling are narrated by an adolescent would-be writer determined to avoid the 'lava show' make-out spot, where carts dump molten cake and girls her age get pregnant. Even those who escape, however, can't seem to free themselves from the slow burn of their heritage, much like a decades-old underground coal fire, ignited 'when someone dumped a load of garbage down a mine shaft.'"—The New Yorker

 

"Bathsheba Monk is a writer I'll be talking about when I talk about brilliant new writers. Now You See It . . . is the work of an imaginative, funny, and electrically gifted storyteller."—Tim O'Brien

 

"Bathsheba Monk must have been thinking about these stories for a long time—stories this good are earned. She seems to have stories busting out of her. It is as if Winesburg, Ohio were moved to Cokesville and filtered through the eye of a tough, seen-it-all narrator whose singular personality misses nothing and reports back with a lack of fanfare that socks you in the gut."—Susan Minot

 

"This debut collection of 17 linked stories examines, often comically, the slow demise of a Pennsylvania coal town. Sandwiched between 1949 and 1994, the stories cover multiple families related by marriage or friendship or disaster, as the inhabitants of Cokesville drag their sorrows from one decade to the next. The center of the collection lies with Annie Kusiak and her best friend, Tess Randall, who are either featured or know the characters in each tale. In 'Hocus Pocus,' Theodore Cheslock is 'the most miserable man in Cokesville.' And the reason for his gloom? A not-so-simple case of existential ennui, the disillusionment of knowing that every day will be the same as the last. Out for a drink on his 45th birthday, he happily disappears, thanks to the work of a magician. Theodore isn't seen again for 21 years, when he reappears three stories later in 'Congratulations, Goldie Katowitz' as an old man, teenaged Annie's long-lost grandfather now dottily brought home to roost with his recent lottery winnings. Annie goes to college, drops out, attempts suicide and tries to reconnect with her ex-boyfriend in 'Annie Kusiak's Meaning of Life'; though only 19, poor Annie's life doesn't improve much in subsequent stories. Tess becomes a star for a moment in Hollywood, then a soap-opera diva, then something on the fringe, until she finally becomes a producer, when the son she adopted long ago comes calling in 'Now You Don't.' The best in the collection is 'Mrs. Szewczak and the Rescue Dog.' Stranded at a bus stop during a blizzard, hoping the emergency Rescue Dog car finds her before she dies of hypothermia, old Mrs. Szewczak takes a ride offered by two pot-smoking black men, and what ensues is both hopeful and a bit tragic. A pleasurable . . . examination of hardscrabble lives and hapless dreams."—Kirkus Reviews

 

"Monk's loosely connected set of short stories makes up a witty, sardonic history of several families with ties to Cokesville, a coal-mining and steel-mill town in Pennsylvania. Anchoring some stories are a seemingly autobiographical character, Annie Kusiak, and her friend Theresa, or Tess, who has become a soap opera star in Hollywood. The stories move from their grandparents' generation in the 1940s up through the 1990s as grandsons and granddaughters try to make it outside the Rust Belt. One story even follows an elderly neighbor into the hereafter. Themes recur like genetic traits: aside from the uncanny lure of show business, we encounter resilient, sometimes beautiful women, men who take pride in their dangerous work, and those who feel trapped and abandon their families. Monk shows how even an unpleasant place becomes a part of you and depicts the loss and disconnection that set in with that place is taken over by economic or historic forces. A debut author of great promise, Monk makes us see that we are all exiles in a changing world. Highly recommended."—Library Journal

 

"This debut collection weaves together generations of several smalltown Polish-American families living in Cokesville, Pa., a fictional coal-mining and steelmaking town. Annie Kusiak narrates several stories, and despite several false starts—including failures as a student, converting to Judaism and attempting suicide—she makes it out of Cokesville, only to discover its citizens still have a vise-like hold on her imagination. After 30 years, Mrs. Szilborski turns on her neighbor Mrs. Wojic and her two dogs, one of which Mrs. Wojic believes is the reincarnation of her dead husband. Bruno Gojuk, after falling into a vat of molten steel, draws the whole town to his funeral, not for the grisly spectacle of man turned to metal, but for a chance to rub shoulders with (and size up) his runaway daughter, Theresa, now a sitcom star and the wife of a black man. Monk grew up in a coal-mining family, did a stint in the army and now lives in Allentown, Pa. The interlocking structure allows her to cover 40 years and several locales with ease . . . Monk's unsentimental, deadpan touch with her characters is winning."—Publishers Weekly