The Man Who Stands in Line: A Collection of Very Short Works

by K.M. Halpern

Overview

Killer flies, amorous dinosaurs, angry buildings, and one very large fish --- all in a single volume. THE MAN WHO STANDS IN LINE takes a surreal and humorous view of the usual questions of self, purpose, and society. This quirky collection of flash fiction, vignettes, and poetry is variously absurd, dark, and comic. A monstrous blister, the secret to immortality, and a lost piece of brain are just a few other oddities one will encounter in this one-of-a-kind book.

Product Details

ISBN-13:	9781945671005
Publisher:	Epsilon Books
Publication date:	09/01/2017
Pages:	96
Product dimensions:	5.00(w) x 8.00(h) x 0.23(d)

About the Author

Kenneth M Halpern holds a PhD in theoretical physics from MIT and lives in Cambridge, MA. Despite this, society allows him to wander free. He is known for producing very very small gravitational waves and lots of hot air.

Editorial Reviews

2017-10-17
Halpern's somber debut collection of poetry and vignettes centers on the impediments of life, from fleeting time to death.In the opening entry, "The Man Who Stands in Line," a man abides by the rules and waits in a slow-moving line only to be disappointed at the end. It immediately stamps this work with a sense of hopelessness and futility that never goes away. The passage of time, for example, is generally unpleasant. "Time is to be endured, not treasured" for the individual walking with no apparent destination in "Rendezvous," while "Tock" assures readers that time will surely outlive humans. Halpern himself wastes no time; his short pieces are rarely more than two or three pages each and get right to the point in lambasting religion, health care, and politics (deciding to run for office in "Mayoral" quickly changes to abstaining from voting altogether). Sometimes the approach is subtle: "List" debates whether someone would want the burden of immortality. In other instances, it's more pointed: "Hippocrat" spotlights a doctor's hypocrisy, faulting a patient's own body and lack of adequate insurance for subpar health. There are occasional bouts of humor, though they tend to be layered in stark cynicism. Two standouts are "Child," which indexes fears of child-rearing (kidnapping, choking, or even developing acne), and "Lost Art," which talks about a new trend in which hidden art may soon be replacing the outmoded found variety. Much of the collection, however, is relentlessly bleak, evidenced by Halpern's frank, unembellished style: "You may not believe in pain, but pain believes in you"; "I knew this in my heart, / but no more deceitful / organ defiles"; "The absence of absence is not presence." Reading the book in one sitting may not be ideal, but the lasting impression of the writing within is without question.Don't let their brevity fool you; these works are tenacious, earnest, and overflowing with gloom.

Kirkus Reviews