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Jim Gavin received a Wallace Stegner Fellowship in Fiction from Stanford University. His work has appeared in the New Yorker, Esquire, the Paris Review, Zoetrope, the Mississippi Review, Slice and ZYZZYVA. His debut story collection, Middle Men, will be published by Simon & Schuster on February 19, 2013. He lives in Los Angeles.
On your nightstand now:
1) Train Whistle Guitar by Albert Murray. I'm re-reading this. No one can touch Murray for the music of his prose, and this is one of the great novels of childhood. 2) Morbo by Phil Ball. A concise and absorbing history of Spanish soccer that helps put in context the coming of Our Lord and Savior Lionel Messi. 3) Brand New Human Being by Emily Jeanne Miller. I devoured this novel. Miller's debut is funny, fast-paced and poignant, and it depicts a father-son relationship unlike any I've read before. 4) City of Bohane by Kevin Barry. F***ing brilliant!
Favorite book when you were a child:
As a kid I only read sports books. My favorite was Bill Russell's autobiography, Go Up for Glory. I grew up in Southern California, but my mom's side of the family is all dirty Boston Irish and she brainwashed me into being a Celtics fan. Russell was her all-time favorite, and when I was in fifth grade, she gave me his book. I read it several times and I remember telling friends that Russell was my favorite player, even though I was born seven years after he played his last game. I loved the hip swagger of his voice, and I took heart in the revelation that out of nervousness he vomited before every game (I was always a wreck before games). I thought I was reading a basketball book, but really I was encountering the history of racial segregation and the Civil Rights movement through the eyes of a brave and deeply honest man who could be equal parts hero and asshole. I love the dude. Every time I see that clip of him breaking down while being interviewed after game seven of the 1969 final, I totally lose it.
Your top five authors:
James Joyce, Flannery O'Connor, J.P. Donleavy, Graham Greene, Muriel Spark. Laying it on pretty thick with the Catholicism, but Greene and Spark were converts, so they don't count.
Book you've faked reading:
I often say that I love Charles Dickens, but what I mean is that I love Great Expectations, the only novel of his that I've actually finished. I've read it twice, in tearful ecstasy, I assure you, but I've never made it more than 50 pages into Hard Times, Martin Chuzzlewit, Our Mutual Friend and a couple others. I'm a monster. Also, I've been known to throw around some choice Peter DeVries quotes, all of which I read in an article about him that appeared in the New Yorker in 2004, but I've never done the man the honor of actually reading one of his books. I don't deserve to live.
Book you're an evangelist for:
L.A. Breakdown by Lou Mathews. A lost classic that is tragically out of print, this novel is set in the late '60s and revolves around the Eastside street racing scene. Mathews was born and raised in Southern California and he worked as a mechanic for 20 years. On every page you can feel his love and mastery of the definitive SoCal artifact--the car. His grasp of working-class knuckleheadedness is magisterial, and he captures daily life in Los Angeles with the same kind of grace and authenticity that Leonard Gardner brought to Stockton in Fat City. I have faith that eventually a publisher will get wise to Mathews and give him the recognition that is long overdue.
Book you've bought for the cover:
Skippy Dies by Paul Murray. I didn't know anything about this book before I saw it in a bookstore. The spine, with its interlocking green bands overlaid by the illustrated faces of a boy and girl, stopped me in my tracks and when I pulled it off the shelf I had the rare sensation of knowing that I would buy this book and love it completely, and I did. Somehow everything about Murray's hugely ambitious and entertaining novel is implied in Leanne Shapton's iconic cover. Even now, when I walk past it on the bookshelf, I'll sometimes take it down, just to hold it, and then I'll flip to a section, read a little, and suddenly an hour is gone. It's one of those books I know I'll always be reading.
Book that changed your life:
Ulysses. Yeah, I know. Usually, around my fourth or fifth beer, I'll start talking Joyce. At that point, my advice is to save yourself and walk to the other end of the bar.
Favorite line from a book:
"Perhaps, I thought, while her words hung in the air between us like a wisp of tobacco smoke--a thought to fade and vanish like smoke without a trace--perhaps all our loves are merely hints and symbols; a hill of many invisible crests; doors that open in a dream only to reveal a further stretch of carpet and another door; perhaps you and I are types and this sadness which sometimes falls between us springs from disappointment in our search, each straining through and beyond the other, snatching a glimpse now and then of the shadow which turns the corner always a pace or two ahead of us." --from Brideshead Revisited by Evelyn Waugh.
"There was a period of three weeks when Mr. Blue came daily to the apartment and passed the afternoon hours with me. During these visits we talked about professional football, about which Mr. Blue knew nothing, and about the two things which interested Mr. Blue most: aluminum siding, which he sold, and cunnilingus, on which he suspected I was an authority." --from A Fan's Notes by Frederick Exley.
Book you most want to read again for the first time:
A Fairy Tale of New York by J.P. Donleavy. I don't remember how it went exactly, but Billy Childish was once asked how many records he'd made during his long and prolific career. He guessed more than a hundred. Then the interviewer asked how many songs he had written, and Billy Childish said, "One." Donleavy has been accused of writing the same book over and over, but, as with Billy Childish, I wouldn't have it any other way. I love all his books, but Fairy Tale stands out in my mind. Chapter 20, the courtroom scene, is one of my all-time favorite comic set pieces. And I should confess that the title for one of the stories in my collection--"Bewildered Decisions in Times of Mercantile Terror"--is stolen from Fairy Tale. Over the years Mr. Donleavy has proven himself to be a ruthless litigator, but hopefully he'll let this one go.
Who do you follow on Twitter?
All the usual suspects from the professional comedy mafia, but my favorites are always mysterious, far-flung people who seemingly have no agenda other than being constantly and uniquely hilarious. I recommend following: @chrismurphyusa, @kbridge, @aliciahawkes, @klickitatstreet, @afbradstone, @spaterpeter
They all have a genius for transforming the mundane into something luminous and epic. Plus dick jokes.