Making Nice

Starred review from October 13, 2014
From the first page, Sumell’s exceptional novel in stories unleashes one of the most comically arresting voices this side of Sam Lipsyte’s Homeland. Alby is congenitally violent, frequently intoxicated, eloquently abusive, a 30-year-old “loser” (according to his sister), and unmistakably American. Even on her deathbed, Alby’s mother can’t think of anything nice to say about him, and so Alby spirals into barely concealed rage, lashing out at his sister (whom he punches, noting, “Siblings don’t count as ladies”), his father (who lives mostly on Hot Pockets), and his girlfriends—including one whom he compulsively humiliates in “Toast” (originally published in the Paris Review) and a waitress who out-matures him in “The Block, Twice.” But Alby’s biggest victim is himself; essentially a hostage to his temper and grief, he is a sort of every-bro. He also emerges as the protector of a helpless bird (although he hopes to train it to “bite people’s dicks off in the dark”), cares for his bedridden grandmother (though he makes a bet that she “wouldn’t make it past December”), and feels genuine remorse for all the people he’s punched in the face (like the guy who said he “should be nicer to people”). This exasperating, pitiable, contemptible man is as beautiful and wounded a soul as your little brother or worst foe. Sumell’s debut demonstrates an almost painful compassion for the sinner in most of us, making Making Nice even more fun than eavesdropping in a confession booth.

December 1, 2014
Holden Caulfield meets Andrew Dice Clay in this debut featuring 20 closely linked stories with a single narrator and a chunk of his life rendered in a coarse, pugnacious style. Alby introduces himself during a fight with his sister about loading the dishwasher that calls up memories of their mother's last days with cancer. Family dominates the stories when Alby isn't describing his drinking, fighting, pets, sex life and lousy jobs. Filtering isn't for him, so sentences and paragraphs unroll in minicatalogs. A list of roadkill he has seen is followed by: "My mother had cancer," and then: "I came home, held her hand, pushed her pain button, did her nails and fluffed her pillows, brushed her teeth and emptied her piss bag." The story "Making Nice" starts with a paragraph of sentences about misbehavior and violence from ages 5 to 21. Yet a story about nursing a baby bird reveals Sumell's absurdist humor and a softer Alby, who believes he's raising a fierce raptor and even orders a falconing glove online, only to learn he has rescued a cardinal. Another animal will help an older Alby see what has sustained his dark side when he confronts the death of his dog and the attendant pain-"My heart a pond in a hailstorm"- making him wonder about "the force by which my mother's death impacted me." Something human is emerging from the rough specimen who found so much ugliness while growing up in the white suburbs of Long Island. By the long penultimate story, "OK," Alby has matured enough to enjoy a day with his father in a touching tale, the book's best. There may be man caves where Sumell's freshman effort will be proudly displayed and even read, but based on "OK," he looks set to produce better, more broadly appealing work.

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October 15, 2014

Debut author Sumell offers a visceral and somewhat disturbing collection of linked stories featuring a grown man's struggle with himself. Alby has trouble "making nice"; he picks fights, throws things, punches people, and is generally verbally and physically unpleasant. That many of these behaviors are directed toward his family is not surprising. Presented from a first-person perspective as a series of time-shifting episodes, the narrative focuses on Alby's relationships with people--his struggle with his mother's death, his relationship with his paraplegic father, and his stormy exchanges with his siblings and girlfriend. Interestingly, at some point one begins to like him. This is saying a lot because he is downright despicable, but perhaps the voice of Alby is merely that of honesty. VERDICT The ugliness in this book is leavened with beauty; every disgusting thing the protagonist does is told with artistic insight in language that's poignant. In addition, there's plenty of truly moving storytelling about Alby's life that brings him into focus, transforming his character, in a feat of astonishing literary legerdemain, into someone sympathetic. Recommended for intrepid fans of transformative fiction. [See Prepub Alert, 8/18/14.]--Henry Bankhead, Los Gatos Lib., CA

Copyright 2014 Library Journal, LLC Used with permission.

Starred review from December 15, 2014
Sumell's compulsively readable novel in stories introduces a restless underachiever as irresistible as he is detestable, surely one of the most morally, violently, socially complex personalities in recent literature. Alby is the kind of guy who determines the nurses he'd like to bang while waiting to say his final words to his dying mother at the hospital; who cares for an injured bird while envisioning training it to become a rapaciously murderous hawk. His overt sarcasm elicits the ire of everyone around him, though he's just as likely to beat someone up who irritates him. And no one is exempt from his erratic furyeven his father and sister, both of whom he punches and later defends. His safe house is the bar, where he drunkenly contemplates his aimless future, ogles weirdos and hot girls, and once rescues a mailman from a drunken stupor. As Alby tough-talks his way around his mother's death, he offends women he hopes to sleep with and picks up odd jobs to fill his indescribable void. Sumell's debut is humbly macho, provoking outrage, pity, and finally tenderness. Perhaps this is a book readers will hate to love, but only because it feels, like Alby, all too real.(Reprinted with permission of Booklist, copyright 2014, American Library Association.)