Ask the Dust by John Fante (1939)

The story of a struggling young writer in 1930s Los Angeles.

Book Review: Ask the Dust is one of those lost classic, cult, "gotta read," novels about being romantically down and out, broke on the streets, alone and lonely, living in a garret (here a rooming house), while struggling to achieve art, or at least success: "I had come there with no purpose save to be a mere writer, to get money, to make a name for myself." And it works. John Fante's writing is a subtle, effective voice. After our hero, Arturo Bandini, hurls a racist slur and concludes "Thank God I was born an American," the next page records the landscape of his America: "dusty," "soot-covered," "dark," "choking," "futile," "dying," "chained." The writing changes. This simple, single-sentence description undercuts every epithet, shows the hollowness of his every boast, until he finally admits "it is not my heart that speaks, but the quivering of an old wound, and I am ashamed of the terrible thing I have done." He is a member of the same class he struck out at. This is powerful writing that tells the story without an obvious word. Ask the Dust is also one of those books often popular with young men in their later teens or twenties, especially those who aspire to be writers (think, perhaps, Bukowski (who wrote the introduction), Kafka, Kerouac, McCarthy, Miller, Mishima. There's more.). Our young protagonist is too proud, sad, foolish, angry, petty, embarrassing, vengeful, uncomfortable, far from perfect or heroic. He has (admittedly) no clue how to interact with women: "I sat and wondered why she could be one thing when I was alone in my room and something else the moment I was alone with her." This awkwardness, combined with Bandini's ambition, drives much of the plot. There are unforgettable scenes when Bandini gives every dollar he has to a prostitute to avoid sleeping with her; when he reluctantly steals milk only to find it's undrinkable buttermilk; a notable description of an earthquake. He talks of poverty and back streets, the shady side of town: "all of the same cloth, perverse, drugged in fascinating ugliness." It's the writing that's the shining accomplishment. The sentences are spare, concise, precise, evocative, everything that a writer could aspire to achieve. Beautifully written, Ask the Dust is a coming of age story that still speaks to us 80 years later.  [4½★]