Lasdun's novels succeed as efficient entertainments, narrowly focused, linguistically dextrous, coolly presenting their characters' foibles . . . His short stories relinquish none of this gamesmanship, yet they seem to expand where the novels contract . . . Their characters have a complexity and confusion that override the unfolding plot. And the narratives seem opened up to the entire history of fiction . . . Touching and revelatory . . . Devastating.” —Mark Kamine, The Times Literary Supplement
“Reading Lasdun is like reading a sly collaboration between Kafka and Updike: elegant, acutely observed and utterly unflinching . . . This is a collection that examines the most inward mechanisms of rage, fear and desire with astonishing skill and strangely lyric power.” —John Burnside, The Times (London)
“Lasdun has a Nabokovian eye. Few exponents of the short form offer such tempting, disturbing pleasures . . . It's Beginning to Hurt is . . . a superlative collection, exhibiting all of Lasdun's familiar talents and a few new ones into the bargain.” —Richard T. Kelly, Financial Times
“A gem . . . James Lasdun writes the best sort of English prose.” —Colin Greenland, The Guardian
“A story master.” —Tim Adams, The Observer (London)
“[Lasdun] create[s] a world of objects and feelings that are rich, recognisable and yet elusive . . . His prose [here] is marked by a fine, thoughtful, humane exactness . . . Lasdun uses his dramatic skill to show the most subtle and delicate movements between poles of feeling.” —Tom Deveson, The Sunday Times (London)
“[A] marvelous, masterful collection.” —Lizzie Skurnick, Los Angeles Times
“Like such masters of dark literature as Edgar Allan Poe and Franz Kafka, Lasdun limns the deep cracks in the soul even as his tales are enlivened by his gift for insight and ear for language. His stories are a fury of elements: skilled dramatic monologues; sketches of fraught emotional states . . . [which] are shot through with crafted verse . . . Masterful.” —Susan Comninos, The Miami Herald
“There is much to admire in Lasdun's stories, not least the astonishing beauty and precision of his imagery. In a few perfectly chosen words, Lasdun can distill a character's essence and bring him to life.” —David Bezmozgis, author of Natasha
“[This] stellar collection combines a sharp eye for detail, subtle character development and virtuosic command of narrative voice . . . [It's Beginning to Hurt] merits comparison with the understated artistry of William Trevor or Graham Swift.” —Kirkus Reviews (starred review)
“As he proved with Seven Lies, Lasdun is an elegant and incisive student of the human mind—an author who can register exactly when, for a character, ‘it's beginning to hurt.' This remarkable collection shows what happens when we break through the gauze of everydayness and existential panic hits . . . Affecting, yes; sentimental, no. Hard-edged truths about our predicament poke through this work, which is highly recommended.” —Barbara Hoffert, Library Journal (starred review)
“This accomplished poet, novelist, and story writer's collection packs a devastating punch. Lasdun peels back the facades of middle-aged, middle-class types through their run-ins with cancer, infidelity and loss that lead them to deal with unexpectedly large and often ugly recognitions . . . Jewels of resignation and transformative personal disaster, these stories are written so simply and cleanly that the formidable craft looks effortless.” —Publishers Weekly (starred review)
“This collection of short stories illuminates the everyday agonies of the mind, its anxieties, obsessions, doubts, and yearnings. Lasdun pins each observation to the page with grace and exactitude.” —The Atlantic, Top 5 Books of 2009
“James Lasdun proved himself to be a master of the form with the enthralling psychological subtleties of It's Beginning to Hurt.” —Geoff Dyer, The Guardian
“Compulsively readable short story collection that's perfect for summer . . . The most remarkable feat, though, is that Lasdun can pack stories this moving into as little as three pages.” —GQ blog
“More than another look at the mid-life crisis, what emerges from these miniatures of male apprehension is a portrait of the modern man perpetually understudying for a grander, sexier life as he awaits his transcendent moment—one that, if it ever does arrive, is rarely as absolute as he'd like. As nervousness yields to anxiety, and as anxiety gives way to terror, Lasdun's calm orderly prose never falters in tone, steering these stories with a confident, white –knuckled steadiness. To cut this deep, there can't be a single tremor.” —Playboy.com
“[E]very story is heart-poundingly vivid. Mr. Lasdun's characters live in the here and now—they fret about their stock market losses, they're laid off from their jobs, they feel a lump and know it's cancer. But nothing is simple or direct except Mr. Lasdun's crystalline prose. Much of the action takes place inside their heads, where their hopes, anxieties and terrors contort their sense of ordinary life. Mr. Lasdun instinctively understands human psychology, and it seem as though he can turn anything into a story.” —Wall Street Journal
“If you listen, you can almost hear it ticking: the time bomb of anxiety, or delayed gratification, or fear, or deflected love, in any one of the artfully told stores in James Lasdun's latest collection, It's Beginning to Hurt. . . Intimate, sometimes wryly comforting tales of tenderness and rue.” —O, The Oprah Magazine
“Lasdun may be the most heralded writer you've never heard of. . . There is something classically enjoyable about Lasdun's stories.” —Time Out Chicago
“Following his psycho-thriller debut with a collection of stories about extreme anxiety and paranoia, James Lasdun may single-handedly save British short fiction from an untimely demise. . . James Lasdun is a better-known BBC-prize recipient (he got the award in 2006), largely thanks to the critical acclaim won by his unsettling first novel, The Horned Man, a psychological thriller about a mild-mannered academic who seems to be losing his mind. His poised and elegant new collection, It's Beginning to Hurt, should only add to his reputation—striking a much-needed blow for the health of contemporary British short fiction along the way.” —Taylor Antrim, The Daily Beast
“Meticulously crafted . . . an act of delicate precision and focus. . . The delivery of a revelation, the subtle gesture that shifts the reality of everything that has come before—these are Lasdun's bread and butter, giving his stories their understated luster . . . organic, insightful, empathetic, and wise . . . it's clear that Lasdun is a craftsman with keen radar for moments and gestures that resonate and reflect our humanity with understated clarity. Disguised as a collection of conventional short stories, this book will catch you off guard and lead you down pathways unforeseen.” —The Rumpus
“The best stories that anchor this collection are some of the strongest you're likely to read this year.” —The Second Pass
“James Lasdun's It's Beginning to Hurt gets right to the coruscating heart of things.” —The Boston Phoenix
“Sleek. . . There is something reminiscent of William Trevor in Lasdun's matter-of-fact rendering of the way people are haunted by the choices they make. The cool, dispassionate prose belies an underlying desperation present in Lasdun's characters to do the right thing.” —Time Out New York
Barnes & Noble Discover Great New Writers
Each story in Lasdun's collection is a fascinating, disturbing foray into the vexing realities of modern-day life, where minor occurrences reveal larger truths. The title story encapsulates a man's life in a single day that contains both a funeral for a former mistress and a bitter confrontation with his wife over a forgotten purchase. In "The Old Man," a widower gets an unexpected and terrifying insight into his future wife's character on the eve of their wedding. In "A Bourgeois Story," the self-doubts of a well-heeled married man are brought into painful relief during an encounter with an old classmate.
Lasdun's stories sometimes take sly turns. In "The Incalculable Life Gesture," a school principal, relieved that a cancer scare was just that, makes a charitable gesture toward his sister and is treated with scorn. And in "An Anxious Man," Joseph Nagel, today's stressed-out Everyman, thinks: "How wearying, how humiliating it was to have so little faith in anything, to be so abjectly at the mercy of every tremor of fear in one's mind." Nagel tries to cope with his fears against the backdrop of a careening stock market -- the perfect symbol for our lack of control over our lives. Each of Lasdun's characters faces moments of clarity, moments that, if acted upon, would force dramatic changes in their lives. How they handle such moments makes for insightful reading.
(Fall 2009 Selection)
This accomplished poet, novelist, and story writer's collection packs a devastating punch. Lasdun peels back the facades of middle-aged, middle-class types through their run-ins with cancer, infidelity and loss that lead them to deal with unexpectedly large and often ugly recognitions. The title story is less than three full pages, but generates near-boundless futility and regret as a businessman, having just attended the funeral of a long forgotten former lover, can't help falling back into the old habit of lying to his wife about how he's spent the day. "The Incalculable Life Gesture" builds to a climax of relief as an elementary school principal, feuding with his sister, follows through a series of tests that indicate he has lymphoma-until a specialist reveals the truth of his ailment. In "Peter Kahn's Third Wife," a sales assistant in a jewelry boutique models necklaces for a wealthy wine importer who brings in a series of successive wives-to-be over the years. Jewels of resignation and transformative personal disaster, these stories are written so simply and cleanly that the formidable craft looks effortless. (Aug.)
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As he proved with Seven Lies, Lasdun is an elegant and incisive student of the human mind—an author who can register exactly when, for a character, "it's beginning to hurt." This remarkable collection shows what happens when we break through the gauze of everydayness and existential panic hits. In "An Anxious Man," for instance, a man at his beach house sweats out the stock market, then is suddenly terrified because the new next-door neighbors with whom his daughter has spent the night seem suddenly to have vanished. In "The Natural Order," two men—one assured and charismatic and the other reserved—hike together through Greece; it's the charming loudmouth who finally loses his cool. In "Annals of the Honorary Secretary," a believably surreal tale, a society that meets regularly to display special talents is upended by a young woman with the telepathic ability to make members see truly ugly and frightening things. "Oh, Death" features a backwoods guy who lives and dies with only the narrator to wonder what his life really meant. VERDICT Affecting, yes; sentimental, no. Hard-edged truths about our predicament poke through this work, which is highly recommended. [See Prepub Alert, LJ 4/15/09.]—Barbara Hoffert, Library Journal
Stellar collection combines a sharp eye for detail, subtle character development and virtuosic command of narrative voice. A British native who now lives in upstate New York, Lasdun (Seven Lies, 2006, etc.) also writes poetry, novels and screenplays, but his fourth volume of stories suggests that his strength lies in the short form. The title piece is the shortest, less than two-and-a-half pages, and functions as the prose equivalent of haiku in its evocation of an affair, a death and a marriage that is all but dead. Yet that same title could apply to practically every one of these stories, which often detail a pivotal point at which a man (usually) comes to terms with his essential character and discovers something hurtful or troubling about himself. In "An Anxious Man" (most of the titles are far more generic than the stories themselves), an inheritance disrupts a family's equilibrium, as the wife's attempts to play the stock market during an economic downturn make the husband fearful of everything, even as he questions his judgment. "Was it possible to change?" asks the protagonist of "The Natural Order," a faithful husband whose trip with an incorrigible womanizer leaves him both appalled and envious. In "Cleanness," a widower's marriage to a much younger woman forces his son to confront his own indelible impurities. "A Bourgeois Story" explores "the peculiar economy of . . . conscience," as an unexpected reunion of college friends, one of whom has become a well-to-do lawyer while the other has turned increasingly radical, leaves the former as uncomfortable with his own life as he is with his one-time friend. Chance encounters and unlikely connections prove particularly revelatorythroughout. The piece that is least like the others, "Annals of the Honorary Secretary," provides a mysterious parable of art that concludes, "Like most lyric gifts, it was short-lived. On the other hand, the critical exegesis has only just begun."Merits comparison with the understated artistry of William Trevor or Graham Swift.
