• home
  • read
    • online lit
    • the magazine
    • barrelhouse books
    • news and updates
  • write
    • submission info
    • writer camp
    • New Beginnings
  • events
  • shop
  • about
    • general
    • amplifier grant
    • Newsletter Sign Up
  • Menu

BARRELHOUSE

  • home
  • read
    • online lit
    • the magazine
    • barrelhouse books
    • news and updates
  • write
    • submission info
    • writer camp
    • New Beginnings
  • events
  • shop
  • about
    • general
    • amplifier grant
    • Newsletter Sign Up

hit us up

twitter
facebook
instagram
yobarrelhouse@gmail.com

 
review stars.JPG

Reviews of My Life: WORK

September 25, 2017 in Series

BY BUD SMITH

BUDANNOUNCEMENT-1170x1742.jpg

WORK by Bud Smith ★★☆☆☆
Civil Coping Mechanisms, 2017
220 pages, memoir
Review by Bud Smith

Picture Slouching Towards Bethlehem if Joan Didion was a moron. Or perhaps, Motel Chronicles by Sam Shepherd if Sam Shepherd wasn’t as talented, or handsome, or famous. WORK by Bud Smith is not an interesting approach to memoir. We have an author, who has barely lived a life (a scant 35 years old), and even despite his young age, he doesn’t have much to say about that life either … Instead we are lead bumbling through 220 pages of anecdotes that don’t exactly add up to, well—anything. The big twist to this memoir, is not that the author has something of value to share with anyone … it’s, get this, brace yourself, it’s that he welds in an oil refinery.

At times WORK struck me as the kind of fluff that one often encounters on the water damaged, and oft-wobbly side table of a laundromat. The fluff I am referring to, is, of course, the dreaded celebrity auto-biography. Think, of a ghost-written tome centered on the life and times of Britney Spears, Sylvester Stallone, or as the author would hope, maybe, Bruce Springsteen. But the problem is that WORK neither focuses on the kind of living that generates celebrity, or is built in the quality of prose that a ghost writer would even attribute their name to, even in the hushed hallways of the ghost community.

Instead, we are left to consider the importance of ‘the blue collar outer-life’, and how it stacks up in the ham-fisted boxing ring in juxtaposition to the needs for the ‘the creative inner life’. Ooof. A lot of WORK reads like: Jack Kerouac frozen in ice, as if he was Brendan Fraser from Encino Man, thawed out, and Kerouac set loose in 2017 having learned no lessons harvested from the rich cornucopia of modern literature post-1969 (the death of the Beat generation) or, to be so bold, 200,000 years ago, when homo sapiens first appeared, and began carving cliches into the walls of their stoney homes, as if anyone could be a writer by sheer decision on the part of the writer alone.

The premise of WORK is almost irritating in its pandering simplicity. Once again, a middle-aged white American, reflects on his ‘hard times’ growing up ‘poor’ in a ‘working-class’ family. This subject matter in and of itself would not be so offensive to the intelligence of this reviewer (and thus, the reader) if it had any point, if something was learned by the subject himself, Mr. Smith, the dufus. Instead, we spend hundreds of pages listening to Bud Smith brag about how he didn’t go to college, how he often gets struck in the head with blunt objects, how he doesn’t know what a wild bird store is, how he gets so intoxicated he can’t find his car for days on end. Countless times in this meandering memoir, I was infuriated with Bud Smith, asking myself—why would someone delight in unemployment? Why would someone delight in a car crash with an elderly woman? Why would someone delight in their own brother getting all his teeth ripped out by the family dentist? But truly, the most infuriating aspect of all, goes back to the lesson … there simply isn't one. It’s as if the author does not know the basic rules of the well-crafted personal essay, and thus, by extension expanding out, can even begin to grasp the slightest hint of what memoir is.

However it wasn’t all a wash. As if almost accidentally, Bud Smith’s family saves the book from total failure. His mother is charming, and caring, and during quite a few moments in WORK, she tries to imbue some semblance of knowledge on her ignorant son, but it is of course lost in the shuffle of the author’s fixation on blood (an accident while washing dishes that seems to hint at a suicide attempt), explosions (fireworks in the house!), and humble brags (a trip to 7-11 to buy Slurpees for a family even “poorer” than Smith’s own, okay, sure). Smith’s brother, Will, whom the memoir is dedicated to, also makes a few appearances, and where I felt he was an anchor to this spastic work, Bud Smith chooses to treat him instead, as just another cartoon character, who wants to put on a ski mask and kidnap him out of NYC for his bachelor party, and who also falls off the back of a garbage truck while wearing a trench coat, and lies in an icy puddle until an ambulance arrives. There is one touching moment however, when Smith and his brother get to play a video game together, and they see some lovely butterflies and bovine in a simulated countryside—a welcome detour from the drab pine scrub clogged New Jersey landscape, or even worse, the industrial hellscape of Smith’s oil refinery day job (and night job, ack!)

Another interesting aspect of the memoir is a love interest who unfortunately doesn’t show up until nearly halfway into the book. Rae is the dynamic center of the book, and her presence makes great strides to attempt the impossible act of lashing Work into a creation of emotional maturity. Rae manages to coax out some actual honest to god feeling from the author, just as she’d done in his previous release, the superior, Dust Bunny City. I for one though, need a little more from a memoir than a guy loving his wife, working heavy construction, and babbling on about how he writes on his cellphone. Congratulations, Bud, you sir, are a basic bitch.

I did find myself laughing out loud twice in the book though, because it is after all, a comedy, lest we not forget, be it a sloppy and solipsistic one. The author’s father falls down a set of icy stairs and is gravely injured. I had a similar thing happen to my father when I was but a child. So, I see the immense humor in an incident such as that. Bravo. In addition, I rolled on the floor and laughed out loud when Bud Smith got struck very hard in the face by a piece of rigid metal, which knocked him unconscious at the town dump! Bravo again. That’s where the two stars came from. This memoir was like America’s Funniest Home Videos written by Charles Bukowski if he had had his testicles removed.


 Bud Smith reports from Jersey City, NJ. Twitter: @bud_smith www.budsmithwrites.com. He wrote F250, Calm Face, and Dustbunny City, among others. He works heavy construction, and lives in Jersey City, NJ.

Tags: Reviews of My Life, Reviews, Bud Smith
Prev / Next

ONLINE LIT

Previous Online Issues & Features:

Ask Someone Awesome
Barrelhouse of Horrors
Brothers & Sisters
The Island of Misfit Lit
National Poetry Month 2017
Remembering David Bowie
Remembering Prince
Road Trips: The Desi Issue
Stupid Idea Junk Drawer
The 90's Issue
The Latinx Issue (Holiday 2018)
The Something Issue (Spring 2019)
The Swayze Question
The Wrestling Issue

online lit RSS

Lit Archives

Archive by Date
  • February 2023
  • January 2023
  • December 2022
  • November 2022
  • October 2022
  • September 2022
  • August 2022
  • July 2022
  • May 2022
  • April 2022
  • March 2022
  • February 2022
  • January 2022
  • December 2021
  • November 2021
  • October 2021
  • September 2021
  • August 2021
  • June 2021
  • May 2021
  • April 2021
  • March 2021
  • February 2021
  • January 2021
  • December 2020
  • November 2020
  • October 2020
  • September 2020
  • August 2020
  • July 2020
  • June 2020
  • May 2020
  • April 2020
  • March 2020
  • February 2020
  • January 2020
  • December 2019
  • November 2019
  • October 2019
  • September 2019
  • August 2019
  • July 2019
  • June 2019
  • May 2019
  • April 2019
  • March 2019
  • February 2019
  • January 2019
  • December 2018
  • November 2018
  • October 2018
  • September 2018
  • August 2018
  • July 2018
  • June 2018
  • May 2018
  • April 2018
  • March 2018
  • February 2018
  • January 2018
  • December 2017
  • November 2017
  • October 2017
  • September 2017
  • August 2017
  • July 2017
  • June 2017
  • May 2017
  • April 2017
  • March 2017
  • February 2017
  • January 2017
  • December 2016
  • November 2016
  • October 2016
  • September 2016
  • August 2016
  • July 2016
  • June 2016
  • May 2016
  • April 2016
  • March 2016
  • February 2016
  • January 2016
  • December 2015
  • November 2015
  • October 2015
  • September 2015
  • August 2015
  • July 2015
  • June 2015
  • May 2015
  • April 2015
  • March 2015
  • February 2015
  • January 2015
  • December 2014
  • October 2014
  • September 2014
  • August 2014
  • July 2014
  • June 2014
  • May 2014
  • November 2013
  • September 2013
  • June 2013
  • October 2012
  • August 2012
  • July 2012
  • May 2012
Archive by Tag
  • "Alligator Man"
  • "Money Bag Shawty"
  • 1990s
  • 3-point Night
  • 90s Issue
  • A Girl Goes into the Forest
  • A Short Move
  • A Tribute to Anthony Bourdain
  • AK Small
  • AWP
  • AWP15
  • Aaron Angello
  • Aaron Burch
  • Aatif Rashid
  • Abby Reed Meyer
  • Abeer Hoque
  • Able Muse Press
  • Adam Crittenden
  • Adam Nemett
  • Aditya Desai
  • After the Bomb
  • Ahsan Butt
  • Aimee Parkison
  • Alan Chazaro
  • Alessandra Castellanos
  • Alex Carrigan
  • Alex Ebel
  • Alex Espinoza
  • Alex G. Carol
  • Alexandra Chang
  • Aleyna Rentz
  • Alia Trabucco Zeran
  • Alia Volz
  • Alicia Thompson
  • Alison Grifa Ismaili
  • Alison Taverna
  • Alison Turner
  • Alissa Nutting
  • All You Can Ever Know
  • All in the Family
  • Alligators
  • Allison Casey
  • Allison Joseph
  • Ally Malinenko
  • Allyson Hoffman
  • Alpha
  • Alternating Current Press
  • Alysia Sawchyn
  • Alyssa Gillon
  • Amber Edmondson

NEWS & UPDATES!

Featured
Nov 19, 2021
Barrelhouse Write-ins!
Nov 19, 2021
Nov 19, 2021
Aug 5, 2020
Announcing: Barrelhouse’s Funky Flash Fall
Aug 5, 2020
Aug 5, 2020
Mar 15, 2020
Barrelhouse Launches the Spring 2020 READ-IN and WRITE-IN
Mar 15, 2020
Mar 15, 2020
news and updates RSS

NEWS ARCHIVE

Archive by Date
  • September 2014
  • December 2014
  • April 2016
  • May 2016
  • July 2016
  • October 2016
  • December 2016
  • August 2017
  • September 2017
  • November 2017
  • January 2018
  • February 2018
  • March 2018
  • April 2018
  • May 2018
  • June 2018
  • August 2018
  • February 2019
  • August 2019
  • March 2020
  • August 2020
  • November 2021
Archive by Tag
  • Aforementioned Productions
  • Allison Titus
  • Barrelhouse Books
  • Barrelhouse Presents
  • Book Reviews Guidelines
  • Chris Gonzalez
  • Chris Tonelli
  • Christmas
  • Editors
  • Kamil Ahsan
  • Michael Konik
  • Nicole Steinberg
  • Poetry
  • Tabitha Blankenbiller
  • Tara Campbell
  • Thanks
  • Washington DC
  • Write-in
  • Writer Camp
  • chapbooks
  • fiction
  • interviews
  • news
  • novel
  • open submissions
  • poetry
  • reading series
  • reviews editors