Book Review: Boris Says the Words by Kyle Winkler

 

 

Boris Says the Words by Kyle Winkler

307 pages, Paperback

Published May 31, 2022 DIY

 

 

I am sadly way overdue to read this novel. Every time I read about it, I knew I needed to read it, so I requested that my library buy it. I waited a bit to see if the library got it, but they didn’t. Eventually, I got it, and it sat on my TBR for about a year, and I have no idea why I didn’t get to it sooner. 

Winkler first came onto my radar as the host of the short-lived but excellent Left Hand of Leguin podcast, which filled the space we were doing for the other science fiction writer from the Berkley high school class of 1947. I could tell he was an intelligent, thoughtful storyteller. 

I am normally in favor of gatekeepers, and nervous about self-published books. I have been burned many times by novels that were not ready. Boris Says the Words is as independent as it gets, it doesn’t even have a publisher label. This is 200% the kind of book that justifies the democratization of self-publishing. Agents or publishers couldn’t possibly deny the quality of the writing but this novel defies simple marketing and I am sure sailed straight over the heads of many agents and editors. I don’t have to be in the room to hear “great stuff, but I don’t know how to sell this.” something to that effect. 

What genre are we talking about? That is the first problem that shouldn’t be a problem this novel has.  Boris Says the Words is many genres. Science Fiction, yes, but also Horror, but also Bizarro and surreal. All those labels are fair but also on their own would sell this novel short. Don’t think for one second that the literary or artistic merit is lacking because Winkler didn’t want to wait for the right publisher to figure it out. After all, I suspect that is why he decided to just put it out there. A book like is better than most of the stuff on endcaps at Barnes and Noble, but Winkler wanted it in front of eyeballs like mine, it was bet he made that waiting was not worth it.

The dreaded marketing comps are also strange with this one. You know when the cover blurbs says ‘ its this hit bestselling book meets this respectable literary masterpiece.’  Any comps come off as trite, and selling short a book that combines many genius things, nothing exactly commercial.  A blacker-than-black environmental dystopia in the vein of John Brunner’s ecology SF horror masterpiece The Sheep Looks Up with the prose gravitas of an Evenson or Liggotti is an instant sell to me but won't get you on the rack at the airport. 

BSW is a dystopia but if you're not careful you might miss the slow-developing apocalypse of radiated villages and dying Russian countryside. It is done subtly and taken matter-of-factly by the characters. There is so much great stuff going on in this book it is easy to miss some of these aspects, I often re-read pages because of gorgeous prose or weird WTF I just read moments ago.  Let's start with the opening line that sets the tone.  

 

“Bulm was unmoored. If strangers asked, Pavel said it was the village where cats refused death. Or he said it was the village where men lose fist fights to dogs. But it didn't matter; both were true statements.”

What an opening salvo that tells you a lot about the vibe Winkler is going for. This sentence sets the tone as both dark and weird, and those feelings radiate off every page. He also tells the reader to expect off-color commentary throughout. I enjoyed this opening. Right away I was excited about this book. 

Once we meet the cast of characters we see that Winkler is no slouch at writing characters either Alexander and Katya Mirov who meet in Muncie, Indiana where they run a bakery and try to deal with an MS diagnosis.  Did I mention that parts of the first act take place in my home state? That is crazy. 

“Winter set into East central Indiana. Chill and frost bedecked the shiny-then-matte picture windows of Muncie. The dying tracts of grass. E bulbed St. lights. The homeless gathered around the physical plants' exhaust grates. Winter, as a season, crowded and elbowed into festering corners, into small damp spaces, into cramped quarters like a dispirited tune accustomed to doom. People broke apart or laid down and dried up.”

Of course, the winter in Indiana can be lifeless and bleak but that serves to counter the dying landscape of the radioactive Russia. We are introduced to this dying Russia through one key character.  Pavel is fascinating, he works answering hotline phone calls about radiation issues in Russia essentially melting down.  What unites the characters, is the shadow of a drug-addicted witch named Boris.  It is his magic that makes him a presence in the book.  I love how this is expressed.

Boris. She said the name once, accidentally, in the car. She said his name now is if the letters themselves had fangs. As if the man had a mouth hidden in the back of his head that he reserved for eating children period to her Boris wasn't the boogeyman period to her, he was what the boogeyman shies away from. How else to describe it? Boris crept into her life like a slow growing tumor or an old swamp monster.”

The effect the words have is creepy of course this runs parallel to the harsh environment of the radioactive dystopia.  It heals but it harms others. Making the words an ethical dilemma and spiritual cousin to Matheson’s button box. Boris becomes a bogeyman because he can heal but at what cost?  What does the ability to heal one at a time mean in a dying world?

“Boris snorted in amusement. “We will be radioactive messiahs. We will glow in the dark period” he cocked his head as if to decide on something Pavel thought: the words are like invisible priests. Then Boris nodded and revealed that Pavel's father - the seeming teetotaler- nearly drank himself to death.”

 

The increasing horror of the landscape is realized through dense but readable prose that constantly demands re-reads, as you find the strange turn of phrase shocking. Beautiful language that sugarcoats ghastly horror. I dog-eared tons of pages that had moments like those of filthy beauty. The novel paints a grim world, but those who find such things entertaining. 

That said it is never humorless. Consider this opener for a chapter. “Boris hadn't healed anyone in a week except that guy with the broken dick. But it wasn't really broken, just jammed. Or sprained. It was a sprained dick. Slightly bruised. Too much vigorous jacking off. So Boris healed the dick.

Healed that was a joke. Boris understood his job as delaying the inevitable.”

In the grim details, you might miss some of the humor, but you catch much of the message. Another thing that makes this novel different, a serious work of genre fiction is the levels of commentary throughout. This novel has a point of view and I like that. Consider this scene when Pavel talks about the travel of the local evil to America. IT just makes sense to him that it would thrive in America.

“You'll kill yourself on that.” Han flinched at the mention of suicide. “God's teeth,” Pavel said. That's what they call it? I knew someone who did more than her share of it.” he paused, turning back to Boris he remembered Polina's terrible, shiny mouth, crooked with the drug. “Spoon after spoon of it in her tea. All day it didn't kill her but it didn't do her any favors. I had no idea it got to America so fast. But that is a stupid thing period of course it's in America. It's in America like toothpaste, yes? Like French fries?”

How about some examples of the wonderful weird prose:

“The sun died in the sky when Boris reached over and handed Han the crinkly loaf of zu-bo. Han coughed up his tea. Pavel went bloodless. He wanted to stop the exchange but froze. All he could think of was the mangled mutant rabbit and a necklace of bloody rabbit teeth scattered about Polina’s linoleum floor. The smell of greasy smoke. Too-sweet tea.”

I mean what the fuck Winkler? But also hell yeah Winkler!

“Boris terrified Yelena. Not by the way he looked, but by the way he spoke, slow and plodding, as if each word was the foot of an ancient pyramid. She liked Pavel, though he took her aside and asked her if she was worried about her father.

“No, he will be fine. My father has a protective husk around him.”

There are probably one hundred examples of world similes like each word was like the foot of an ancient pyramid. Hilarious similes are something that reminds me of Cody Goodfellow, the best in the biz at the hilarious use of them. Winkler is right there.

 “You're delusional. The Raptor assessed the world and found it lacking. It's dying. Deep down, on a day-to-day level, I think everyone on earth knows this. There are whole swaths of Rhos one cannot step foot in for the zone of radioactivity. The same in Africa, China, India. In America there has long been the abandonment of the South and the West. The Irish moved to Greenland to save their culture. Desperate people will preserve their way of life.”

Don’t forget in the middle of all this creepy and great prose why we are here, ecological terror. Boris Says the Words is a miracle, a box that feels market researched to appeal to this fucking weirdo so I can’t really say if you will find it as genius as me, but goddamn this book is amazing. 

“Pavel turned on him like a kindergartener in a shopping mall. “don't touch anything. Don't eat anything, don't drink anything. Mercury levels in a place like this are crazy. If we get out of here without being poisoned I'd be surprised.”

“We just left a radioactive apartment building,” Han said.

Yeah, bottom line Boris Says the Words is a modern masterpiece and probably the single best self-published book I ever read.