The Impermanent Novel
So, I'm about three books behind in my posts... I'll start with Jake Fades by David Guy.

When I began to read Jake Fades, I felt unable to tolerate David Guy's writing style. Had he never heard of pronouns? Verbs? Much of the text seemed implied rather than written out to be read. I pushed on, though, and reaped the reward. I haven't read any other books by Guy, so I assume that the incomplete prose owes itself to the thought patterns of the narrator, Hank. Once I realized that it was Hank who couldn't speak a complete sentence, I forgave Mr. Guy and got down to business.

And just what "business" do I mean? Beer and sex. That kind of business. This is not your mother's Buddhist novel. Lest you be put off, do keep prodding. It gets worse, but it's worth it. Jake Fades in a real Buddhist way. There are no perfect heroes, only humans -- who happen to be Buddhist priests.

True, I knew very well where things were going by about half-way through the novel, but there were surprises in the end... The neatness with which the ends were tucked might be the least believable part of the book. Yet, our narrator, Hank (sex addict cum Zen priest) portrays the reality of Buddhist practitioners. Initially, we seek redemption and lose heart. We return to the practice without it, knowing instead the raw beauty of our own imperfect existence. Here we find Jake's imperfections, Hank's imperfections, and indeed our own.