LUCY JINX

A novel charts a young female writer’s struggles with life and language.

In the opening of this first installment of a trilogy, Lucy Jinx works at Hernando’s Highlights, a magazine produced by the fictional store chain Hernando’s Grocery. Her office is in a trailer and her co-worker Ariel, who has a more “standard life” than Lucy, is also significantly more diligent. Lucy is partial to wandering into work after 11 a.m. and is candid about plagiarizing in her pieces. While Lucy writes film reviews and manages the “Open Submissions to Poetry Corner mailbox,” her true passion is writing poems herself. The novel has very little plot—Lucy quarrels with Ariel, gets asked to babysit for her landlord, ponders the idea of moving in with an admirer called Katrin, and procrastinates about opening an important letter. On other occasions, Lucy is preoccupied with everyday decisions, such as which panties to wear. As the story progresses, Lucy’s life seems to slip by in a blur of unremarkable events and awkward social interactions. But written steadfastly from Lucy’s point of view, D’Stair’s book allows readers to gain an intimate understanding of the hero’s poetic gaze, which sees beyond the seemingly banal surface behavior of others with artistic intentions. As Lucy moves through her world, the author notes, her mind is “already upstairs scribbling.” This is a tale about a poet’s inner life and, perhaps more accurately, her magpie mind constantly procuring imagery from the outside world to embellish her writing.

Lucy moves through what many would dismiss as an uninspiringly humdrum environment. But her unique rereading of her surroundings is what makes this novel so delightful, as when she visits Katrin’s apartment: “Lucy remarks to herself how sprawlingly long and thin Katrin’s place is, like a sideways-tipped cereal box the size of a house—and is at least twice as large.” Lucy’s endearing observations are marked by an almost childlike curiosity and sense of wonder. D’Stair’s use of language is consistently striking, lyrical, and imbued with a similarly playful energy: “This place. This place where Lucy Jinx is. This whole area. It’s untenable. It’s cumbersomed up, gone bulbous-labyrinthine. Regardless of trying to choose a hidey-hole, the place’ll get its fat fingers ’round yer throat and throttle you, girl!” At moments like these, readers will feel as if they are inside Lucy’s mind, listening to her dictate the narrative of her own life as it happens. There are also intriguing moments when Lucy attempts a poetic description but then revises it: “The car is like the sour in the gut from too much wine with a head cold. Try again: The car is like the sour in the gut from too much apple juice and cigarettes.” This is a clever take on the creative process and a poet’s obsessive necessity to shape and reshape words to best capture a subject. This makes for a densely reflexive, intentionally staccato narrative, which will not appeal to everyone and is best enjoyed in short sittings. The fact that very little happens in the book will deter some, but those who persevere will enjoy a cleverly conceived, smartly observant story that delves intriguingly into how a poet thinks.

A bold, largely plotless, and beautifully insightful tale about a poet.