Moss

by Joe Pace

Overview

Isaiah Moss was one of the greatest American writers of the 20th century. His illegitimate son Oscar Kendall wasn't. Living in Isaiah's inescapable shadow, Oscar has become an inveterate quitter who hides his own literary work from the world rather than suffer the pain of failure or rejection.

But when Isaiah suddenly dies, Oscar inherits the old man's lakefront writing cabin in New Hampshire. There he finds his father's typewriter, a full liquor cabinet, and an unpublished manuscript of such genius that it could launch Oscar's career if he claims it as his own.

But as Oscar wrestles with his own twisted inspirations, he meets the women in Isaiah's life and begins to learn the depths of his father's secrets...and the costs that come with unresolved trauma and romantic delusion.

Product Details

ISBN-13:	9781936519996
Publisher:	Reliquary Press
Publication date:	12/14/2021
Pages:	234
Product dimensions:	5.00(w) x 8.00(h) x 0.49(d)

Editorial Reviews

03/13/2023

Pace (Minotaur) unpacks the legacies of war and family in his thoughtful if uneven latest. Oscar Kendall teaches English literature at an exclusive private school outside Washington, D.C., where he hides the fact that he’s the son of a famous libertine author. After the death of his father, Isaiah, whom Oscar met only once but who sent regular letters dispensing age-inappropriate advice and sharing stories about his combat duty in Korea, Oscar inherits Isaiah’s New Hampshire cabin, where he discovers an unpublished manuscript. Oscar has nursed ambitions of being a writer himself and dithers about claiming the work as his own. Meanwhile, he gets to know prickly Afghanistan veteran May Pierce, who lost both of her legs from a bombing, and whose grandmother was Isaiah’s former lover. Oscar has a hard time respecting May’s insistence that they keep their friendship platonic as she divulges the horrifying story of her injuries and takes him to visit her aunt’s farm where she pushed herself as a competitive runner before joining the Army. May’s story culminates in a tragic episode, which feels out of the blue. Though the plot turns are a bit rough and the tone can feel overly maudlin, the author musters plenty of powerful reflections on war from both May and Isaiah. This ambitious character study is worth a look. (Self-published)

Publishers Weekly

2022-06-03
In this novel, the illegitimate son of a literary giant deals with love, loss, and the struggle to find himself.

Oscar Kendall’s father was Isaiah Moss, a god in the literary pantheon (think Philip Roth, John Updike, Saul Bellow). It is the old story of the epigone. Oscar is a relentless writer himself but has never published a thing because Papa Isaiah’s talent is overpowering, sapping, and emasculating. Instead, Oscar keeps a low profile, teaching at a prep school, hiding his paternity, and wallowing in his inadequacies. Then Isaiah dies and leaves Oscar his cabin on a New Hampshire lake and all its contents, which include the manuscript of his last, unpublished book. Oscar, there for the summer, meets May Pierce, a fierce amputee, and falls slowly in love with her. Readers discover information about Isaiah from his acerbic but oddly ambiguous letters to his son. Readers also learn the history of so many who suffered during various wars: Isaiah’s father, who died in World War II; May’s grandmother Ruby Pierce’s young husband, who died in Vietnam; May, who lost her legs in Afghanistan; and Isaiah, who lost his innocence in Korea. Pace is a very strong writer considering that he has to produce passages supposedly penned by this imagined titan of letters. What starts out as a rumination about literature and aspirations—will Oscar find the courage to escape his father’s shadow, or is he in fact a genteel loser?—turns subtly into a compelling reflection on the loss of life and limbs (May was a champion runner). Along the way, there are intriguing “interludes” that readers find out are excerpts or fodder for the manuscript that Oscar will finally start writing (“Free at last!”). Perhaps the best part of the book is Pace’s decision to make Oscar the narrator. He provides a wonderful voice, all the insecurities, but also all the anger and decency that Oscar is unaware of but that readers will recognize. He has always been a better man than he thought, and the audience will rejoice to see that.

An excellent and thoughtful exploration of art, ambition, and mortality.

Kirkus Reviews