Like the persistent search for sanity in the modern relationship, Owen R. Smith’s first book Water and Bridges reaches out to heartbroken lovers while it sparkles with little gems of humbled wisdom.
Coming in slim at 122 pages, the message that transcends the printed word is that of a novel. Through his poems and short stories, he grapples with the reason and essence of the human essentials—life, death and love.
Smith—a former student at Portland State—worked at the Vanguard for five years as an editor and sports reporter. At age 25, this is his first published work of fiction and, considering that much of his writing experience was concerned with fast-paced, play-by-play regurgitation, this book is a pleasant surprise.
Overall, the book was a tale of love found and lost, expressed through various literary mediums. Smith illustrates his humor along with his seriousness in a fashion that is easy to read and understand.
Beginning with the short story “Absolution,” Smith makes it clear to readers that this is not going to be the kind of light read you might suggest to your mother for her beach vacation in the Bahamas. In opening his book with such a story, Smith digs into the reader’s mind, tackling the crises of existentialism head on. It’s a classic beginning-in-the-end technique and the first story fades out with the sound of a pistol cocking and uncocking, and the intent of Smith’s book is realized in the following poem entitled “Nascent.”
Although the dialogue is a bit repetitive, Smith is impressively accurate in his depictions, specifically the stereotypical female role in many relationships. She manipulates, confuses and is seemingly in control of the growth or stagnation of the relationship. Smith changes names throughout the stories, but the characters remain the same. She is sitting on the fence and he is persistently disappointed with himself. She is indifferent and he is furious. She shakes with sobs and he gives her Lucy, a dog.
They fuel each other’s passions (be it in lust or anger), but in the meantime they maintain a quaint understanding of the other that is the result of years of compromise. Smith never really illustrates a genuinely beautiful moment between the two that is not shadowed with cultural expectation and looming foreshadow.
This characterization becomes quite bland. There is no doubt about the beauty in his honest interpretation of the human experience, but if he wants to stick out in the sea of thousands of locally or independently published books, we need something a bit more out of the ordinary.
His short story “The Cost” was the most satisfying climax, with its trailer-trash absurdity and unexpected twists. We experience the typical idea of relationship multiple times every day, and so although the subject matter was heartfelt, it was predictable.
His organization was skillfully premeditated, but the story “Under Eastern Oregon Skies” was out of place and a bit too journalistic in flavor. His poems also leave the reader craving something more raw and less processed by modern stigmatic archetypes.
The final story finishes the book on a depressing note in a very understanding sort of way, pulling at the heart and slapping the reader in the face with a cold dose of cynicism. It’s enough to make you want to run and tell your partner how much you care about them, promising to never get married, have kids or ever settle down.
Smith’s book will be available for purchase at the release party, but can also be purchased at loathemegacorp.com. The party will feature light refreshments and a reading from Idaho author Patrick Daly’s second book Missed Connections: Short Stories and Stuff.