SANTI: LIVES OF MODERN SAINTS
By LUCA DIPIERRO AND FRANK DANIELS, Editors

Black Arrow Press, 2008
ISBN 9780979890802
452 pages; Paperback
GENRE(S): Fiction, Short Stories

Reviewed by Marie Mundaca

From the title, one might think that Santi: The Lives of Modern Saints was a nonfiction hagiographical text on Roman Catholicism. But editors Luca Dipierro and Frank Daniels have collected an astounding array of exquisite short stories that, like the best religious art, serves to illuminate, transform, and beatify the beauty that surrounds us in daily life. Think of Santi as a devotional for the non-religious spiritualist. The most amazing thing about this collection is that despite the scope and the fact that Black Arrow is a small press, each story is as delightful, profound, and meaningful as one would hope.

Santi features writers whose works may already be familiar, such as Don Chaon (You Remind Me of Me), Michael A. FitzGerald (Radiant Days), Erin O'Brien (Harvey & Eck), and John Sheppard (Small Town Punk). The book also features an array of Italian writers whose works are published in both the original Italian and in translation. It's a little gimmicky, but it gives the book a different feel. The design of this book is amazing. Each short story has individually designed title pages and illustrations, and the paper is cut rough, making the book feel like a precious item.
ADVERTISEMENT

The first story in the collection, Grant Bailie's "Saint Bob," sets the tone for the book. Bob spends his days plugging sales figures into spreadsheets, trying to stifle the voices that speak to him via the hand dryer in the men's room or send him messages via Mike from IT. The plight of the modern saint is that seeing the Virgin in his oatmeal is more likely to be construed as insanity than a genuine sign from God. The incident with the hand dryers gets Bob written up.

In Claudio Morandini's "Le Dita Fredde/The Cold Hands," Cyril, the son of a living saint who has lost his healing powers, has not told anyone that he has inherited those powers. Cyril has seen what "sainthood" has done to his father, and he'd rather not have the burden. When he sees some devout men of the town leave his home, "[t]hey're alone, I think to myself—God is with them, but it doesn't look like he's very good company."

But most of the stories in Santi are not as literal as "Saint Bob" or "The Cold Hands." In Michael A. FitzGerald's "Ghost Story," a young local housepainter falls in love with a European couple, Lily and Craig. When Anthony, the housepainter, finally kisses Lily, her kisses remind Anthony of Craig's hips. At different points, as Lily goes from man to man, both Craig and Anthony are the ghost in the story, and perhaps the ghost in the holy trinity. Christina Astori's "Have You Ever" highlights the confusion and excitement of a teenager named Teresa who suddenly realizes she has special powers. She wills the cutest boy in school to ask her to the fair, and she wishes herself an A in math. When her best friend begins to flirt with that boy, Teresa wishes that friend would die.

One of the most disturbing stories in the book is Noria Jablonski's "The Veil of Saint Veronica." In it, two girls who work at a movie theater bond over the fact that they share similar namesakes. St. Veronica is the patron saint of laundry, and Clare's saint is the patron saint of washerwomen. Veronica has a crush on Clare, and thinks that Clare's invitation to join her at the laundromat is a date. Both Clare and Veronica are very appealing—Clare with her bright red bobbed hair and 1930s movie star slouch, and Veronica with her klutziness and humorous observations about the other people who work at the theater. The girls bond at the laundromat, telling each other the horrors of their childhoods over clove cigarettes, and then, as if to put distance between them, Clare insists they go on a joy ride with two repo men in a Porsche. Clare's eventual breakdown, and Veronica's devotion to her, are touching and real.

Erin O'Brien's "Skywriting with King Tut Down at the Little Egypt" is a beauty of a story, full of nostalgia for those long late summer days that seem full of promise and hope, even when tinged with melancholy. As young protagonist Dolly and her aunt Phyllis set up their table for Labor Day weekend at the flea market, the looming specter of the apocalypse hangs near. The Little Egypt, the drive-in where the flea market sets up each Wednesday and Saturday, is slated for demolition in a few days. Aunt Phyllis is a single bohemian woman who lets Dolly watch R-rated videos when she spends the night. Phyllis's regular table neighbor at the flea is a colorful character who goes by the name the King. He wears an Egyptian headdress and tells outlandish stories while he hawks his wares. It's the King who gives Dolly hope for the future by telling her that the Little Egypt is a landmark and can't be torn down. Of course, readers suspect this may be one of his tall tales. Like ancient Egypt before the end of the Pharaohs' reign, the flea market at the Little Egypt is the center of culture and commerce. The King gives Dolly a valuable gift on what may well be their last day as market neighbors: the story of how he got his headdress. O'Brien's way with the dialog of the flea market vendors and her tender touch with their oft-hidden emotions allows readers to easily connect with Dolly and her wonder and sadness about this world that she loves dearly.

Santi: The Lives of Modern Saints will leave readers wondering about the real lives of saints, not the mythical versions. It encourages people to look for god in the details, be it one's breakfast or the laundry.

(May, 2008)

 

 
     

© 2007 hipsterbookclub.com
All Rights Reserved