Prologue to Ask the Dust

John Fante

Actually, the title of this book is something of a misnomer; it is not a prologue to Fante's brilliant novel, it's a letter Fante wrote to his publisher (and never sent) about why said publisher should publish said novel. It was lost for half a century after being written, found by Fante's widow after his death, and published soon after by Black Sparrow.

If you know Fante's work, you probably know what to expect here. A good argument could be (and has been, many times) made for Fante being the progenitor of the beat Generation, and here, in a short piece of nonfiction, perhaps the best case is made; the style of Fante's 1938 letter obviously informed such writers as Kerouac and his crowd, though they'd have gotten their Fante fix through the novel itself, where it's somewhat diluted. This, folks, is the strong stuff, and it's utterly fantastic. Without the need to hold things together with a narrative thread, Fante jumps around like a manic patient at the lunatic asylum, always returning to Camilla, the model for Dust's man character, and Fante's obsession with her. (As a side note, Fante's inconsistent reference to himself as Arturo Bandini, the hero of his first novel, presage BarnIndex.html#BUKOWSKICHARLES>Bukowski's constant references to himself as Chinaski; Bukowski's love for Fante is well-known by anyone who's read Buk's many poems referencing Fante.) The portrait that emerges is of a deeply disturbed, perhaps deranged, but brilliant human being. And the note on which Fante ends the letter redefines sucker punch.

With the demise of Black Sparrow a few years back, it's probably not terribly likely this volume will see print again. If it does find its way into your local bookstore, however, snap it up. It is the stuff nightmares are made of.