The Empty Chair: Two Novellas Hardcover – December 20, 2013

I'd rate this 2.5 stars."If it were possible to hold all of the people's stories all of the time in one's head, heart and hands, there is no doubt that in the end, each would be unvanquishably linked by a single, religious detail."In The Empty Chair, Bruce Wagner tells of the Buddhist spiritual journeys taken by two utterly disparate people. Both stories, which happens years apart from each other, are linked in a tenuous way which might strain your memory a little bit, and are told to a fictional Bruce Wagner.The first novella is the story of an aging gay Buddhist in Big Sur, California. He has led a difficult life, having been repeatedly molested by a priest in his local church, which led him to experience panic attacks as an adult. But he pursued a somewhat romantic relationship with a woman who was enchanted by Buddhism, and had a son, who was the center of their universe. As his wife taught a basic form of Buddhism in prisons (including San Quentin) and then in schools, he raised their son as a stay-at-home father. But their lives were rocked when their 12-year-old son committed suicide, and he has been unable to settle down since that tragedy, traveling in a Volkswagen bus.The second novella follows Queenie, a larger-than-life woman who was a wild child, sleeping around with dangerous men and taking drugs. She met Kura, a criminal who longs to become a saint, when he saved her life after she was attacked by a boyfriend outside of a nightclub. Kura rescued her, took care of her, and brought her to India on his search for his spiritual guru. Although she ultimately left Kura to follow his own spiritual journey, she always thought of him, and when he calls her 27 years later to ask her to join him in finding the guru again (who has disappeared), she doesn't blink an eye.I just didn't get this book. Admittedly, I don't know much about Buddhism, but while the book is upfront about its subject matter, I expected the religion to be touched on in a more superficial way, more an Eat, Pray, Love-type of journey than one that delves so deeply in its details. Buddhist terms and figures are used repeatedly without any real background—I honestly felt like the book should have come with a prerequisite that you know a certain amount first.Wagner's literary device of a narrator recounting the stories he is told as if they're being told to him at that moment didn't work for me either. The narratives were tremendously stream-of-consciousness, which made them difficult to follow. In the first novella, for example, the main character went on extended riffs about the Beat poets and his relationship with the widow of Beat figure Neal Cassady, which detracted from the meat of the plot. And while his son's suicide was tragic, the way it was told, and the details he used, made me uncomfortable at times.I've never read any of Wagner's books before, but I recognize his ability to give his characters strong voices, so I may try a different one. All of the reviews I've seen of this book have been tremendously positive, so it may be my lack of spiritual awareness buffered me from the book's appeal.

This book will haunt me for a long time. I doubt I will ever solve it. The title of this review is particularly apt. The book is labelled two novellas, yet the author is at pains to establish that the basis of the narratives are two stories told to him. The premise is that he had encountered these two "gurus" and was transfixed by their stories. The result is his own transcription with minimal editing.The writing is in fact stylistically similar to the musings of a person talking about a memory of great import from the past. At times it takes annoying tangents of philosophy or detail that surely a fiction writer would expunge. Each guru has survived a soul scathing event set in the framework of "American Buddhism", that ravenous search for meaning. So here is my quandary. I cannot ignore the possibility of reality in these stories.Wagner's trademark mix of the quirks of the famous literary and cultural figures on the scene is employed to great advantage. There is sly humor and skillful slight of perception. He makes the innocent comment that the stories "in the end each would be unvanquishably linked by a single, religious detail." In the next breath he notes that religion is too freighted with "sound and fury" to credit with these events. His portrayal of grief is deeply touching and undeniably genuine. The book is undeniably quirky and peppered with unabashed heresy. All this argues for the gift of an author crafting from fiction.My most profound reaction has to be, "Gee Gidget, what's a girl to do? ". I hope you read this book and tell me what you think. In any case, this is a wonderful example of the mind reading that a good book can provide.

These two novellas purport to be true stories selected by the author from many interviews he conducted and recorded. The sense that these are, indeed, real people is very strong in the first novella, but early in the second one I began to be aware of a stylistic similarity in the telling, and concluded that they are both fictional characters. For me, this detracted from the strength of the book. I persisted to the end for the sake of finishing, more out of discipline than pleasure.In my opinion, the first novella is by far the better story, one that should be read as a cautionary tale for parents who attempt to transmit their religious passions to children. The book's mostly silent, listening author (Bruce Wagner) is the perfect medium to elicit our patience and trust as the tale unfolds; we feel we are being let in on something important. But in the second novella, the storyteller is not the main character but only a witness to the events she talks about. Behind a second layer of narrative the story became too distant for me. I got impatient in spite of Bruce's listening ear and wished he'd done a lot more editing. The stories link up at the end in a way that justifies their pairing, but the conclusion is empty, if not downright bleak.Full disclosure: I have been fascinated by Buddhism for a long time, but lately my interest has started to fade. I thought this book would help me recover some of my former sense of purpose in the quest for enlightenment, but instead it has confirmed my disillusionment.