Husk

Actor and energetic narrator Sheldon Funk wakes up disoriented in a Toronto hospital, experiencing a barrage of sensations in sentences that unspool like free verse: %E2%80%9CA spark formed, gaily glittering in the all. Starting a process. Completing a chain. Commencing a reaction.%E2%80%9D Sheldon%E2%80%99s distress may be understandable: he%E2%80%99s dead, or more accurately, undead. This first-person perspective provides a neat twist, and the author cleverly divides his novel into sections corresponding to K%C3%BCbler-Ross%E2%80%99s five stages of grief. This structure gives a semblance of motion to the plot, which is otherwise a series of one-joke encounters. During his odyssey from shock to acceptance, Sheldon auditions for a film part (as the casting director retches, the director, taken with the actor%E2%80%99s strange delivery, calls him %E2%80%9Cthe next Chris Walken!%E2%80%9D), visits his loopy mother, kills a few people, and meets with his abrasive agent, all while falling apart%E2%80%94literally. %E2%80%9CAcceptance%E2%80%9D opens with a single expletive surrounded by white space and continues in that form with thoughts such as %E2%80%9CHow long is eternity?%E2%80%9D That this is the best section of the book only proves that less is more. Pressing hard, Redekop%E2%80%99s (Shelf Monkey) humor is hit-and-miss, though some of the hits are priceless. (Oct.)