Perhaps it is unwise to promote one of our own too much, but Atlantic contributing editor James Parker's novel, Cocky the Fox, is outstanding. Parker's sentences have an intuitive rhythm that even Clyde Stubblefield would envy, and his tale of a dissolute fox is charming and action-packed. Think Rudyard Kipling meets Trainspotting.
Here's Parker's description of how his protagonist Cocky and his charmingly idiotic companion Champion are saved by a neighborhood Rottweiler, Otto, from a pack of rats.
Counterpoint to Champion's demented treble, a low hoarse pulse, then another pulse -- Otto the Rot is barking! Bloody great night-shaking woofs and dog-vowels, with his huge upholstered paws crashing against the fence, his claws in their sheaths of leather. And then he's through, the mottled slats giving way and the rats shrilling in panic as he plunges among them. A joy to watch. Foolish Cocky, imagining that this beast was out of shape! Here's where nutrition pays off and good sleeping patterns. It's a right old rampage, cyclonic, with rat-chunks in orbit around his pectorals.
In about ten seconds the garden is clear -- just flattened astonished grass, quivering night-molecules and Champion wheezing by the hutch door, which now lolls from one hinge.
So, it's obvious to me that if you love words, you'd like this book. But what's fascinating is how Parker rolled out this particular bit of fiction. He serialized the book in 20 parts on Josh Glenn and Matthew Battles' website, HiLoBrow, illustrated with gorgeous original artwork by Parker's wife Kristen. (Disclosure: I've written occasionally for HiLoBrow.) Every other Thursday a chapter ran as HiLoBrow filled the other Thursday with Patrick Cates' hilarious companion magazine(?) The Sniffer.
The very last chapter of Cocky the Fox came out today, which is actually a terrible thing, as far as I'm concerned. I had come to look forward to Parker's (and Cates') work with an emotion that I think I can properly call delight. For months, at some point on every Thursday, it would occur to me that there was a new addition out and I'd thrill to the idea that I'd get to read it when I got home from work.