Shame

Maierhofer (Drain Songs) explores shame, guilt, and death in this impassioned if uneven essayistic collection. The numbered entries (81 in total) begin with Maierhofer’s childhood in Wisconsin, spent medicated for ADHD in a basement watching movies which seemed, in hindsight, “a form of trance that I think I’ve been seeking since.” The fragmentary entries progress to his adulthood, as he wrestles with his obsessive-compulsive disorder, his father’s death, and a curative stint in rehab for alcoholism and drug addiction. Alternately raw, fiery, poetic, and sentimental, the author’s takes can also show levity, as when describing tender moments with his wife and admitting that “for all my mental rot and roiling I can be very traditional.” Most often, however, disturbing situations emerge, particularly when Maierhofer describes inexplicably slicing off his pinky finger or dropping a red-hot charcoal briquette into his mouth. Others are self-indulgent pieces in which the author lists things he hates. While these feel performative, others offer glimpses into the murky depths of grief and depression. Though it’s unwieldy on the whole, when Maierhofer’s cathartic ruminations hit, they hit hard. (Sept.)