Another Ventriloquist

Adam Penn Gilders was a virtuoso of the deadpan prose miniature. He published his stories in Paris Review, The Walrus and J&L Illustrated, before passing away in 2007, at the age of 36, of a brain tumor. Another Ventriloquist collects Gilders' charming vignettes, which fall somewhere between Aesop's fable and bitch session: "My friend Geoffrey, to my constant dismay, seems compelled to enjoy life's little pleasures, such as coffee or perfectly cooked eggs, all at once, without delay or hesitation. With coffee, for example, which he particularly loves, he drains his cup with almost demented eagerness, often before his companions have taken a single sip. It was as though the best experiences, like hot liquids, were liable to evaporate if measured out in teaspoons. He had what I considered a 'Now or Never' attitude which made me want to proclaim 'Never!'" With this posthumous collection, Gilders bequeaths a gem of concision and wit.

Adam Penn Gilders was a virtuoso of the deadpan prose miniature. He published his stories in Paris Review, The Walrus and J&L Illustrated, before passing away in 2007, at the age of 36, of a brain tumor. Another Ventriloquist collects Gilders'' charming vignettes, which fall somewhere between Aesop''s fable and bitch session: "My friend Geoffrey, to my constant dismay, seems compelled to enjoy life''s little pleasures, such as coffee or perfectly cooked eggs, all at once, without delay or hesitation. With coffee, for example, which he particularly loves, he drains his cup with almost demented eagerness, often before his companions have taken a single sip. It was as though the best experiences, like hot liquids, were liable to evaporate if measured out in teaspoons. He had what I considered a ''Now or Never'' attitude which made me want to proclaim ''Never!''" With this posthumous collection, Gilders bequeaths a gem of concision and wit.