A review by sdibartola
Preparation for the Next Life by Atticus Lish

3.0

I was finishing Atticus Lish’s novel “Preparation for the Next Life” in the waiting room of a doctor’s office. When the nurse called me back, she said, “Do you enjoy reading inspirational books?” It took me a second, and then I smiled, “Oh, no. It’s a novel. Very bleak. About a vet with PTSD and an illegal immigrant from China.” Her expression suggested she didn’t want to hear more. Kirkus Reviews describes the book as “a sledgehammer to the American dream,” and that’s as apt and concise a summary as you’ll find. It’s an intense, unsentimental book about two people clinging to each other and living on the edge in Queens, barely surviving. Zou Lei is a Uighur from northwestern China who enters the US illegally. She’s soon arrested, and put in a detention center without any indication of if or when she’ll be released. Three months later, she’s back on the streets, scouring Flushing’s Chinatown for work and a place to stay. Brad Skinner is a US Army vet just discharged after his third tour of combat duty in Iraq, with scars on his back from shrapnel and severe PTSD. At the start of the book, he’s hitching a ride into NYC with a trucker. Three or four days after he arrives in the city, he’s looking for a massage parlor mentioned in a flyer he’s been handed on the street and runs into Zou Lei sitting on the fire stairs outside the basement noodle takeout place where she works. A relationship between them develops, apparently over their shared need for strenuous physical activity (running, weight lifting) to transport them from their difficult lives. Skinner takes a basement room in Queens and, when the landlady’s son Jimmy is released after a 10-year prison sentence, he puts himself into conflict with Skinner and Zou Lei. This conflict culminates in a chilling suspenseful scene that ultimately brings the novel to a close. The book’s title is derived from an episode toward the end of the book when Zou Lei arrives at work to find that her hours have been cut to zero. Skinner is not home, and she is wandering the streets half-heartedly trying to find work. She stumbles hungry and thirsty into a grocery run by a Uzbek from Afghanistan whose wife leads her to a boarded-up house next door that serves as a mosque where she’s able to get a meal after attending the service. The mullah wants to convert her and points to a sign over the doorway that says, “Preparation for the Next Life.”Lish’s repeated spare graphic descriptions of the city’s squalor – the broken glass on the sidewalks, the graffiti, the subways, the projects, the boarded up houses, the street people – can get a bit mind-numbing, but he effectively conveys the hopelessness in the lives of everyone in the book. I kept wondering how he could know so much about his characters. In the photo on the back of the book, he looks like he could have just gotten out of the military. It turns out, according to a piece in the New Yorker by Nick Paumgarten (December 1, 2014), Lish was in the Marines, had a basement apartment in Queens, held a series of fast food jobs, taught English in China, and his wife is Asian (albeit a Korean-born schoolteacher). Also, it turns out he is the son of the famous editor Gordon Lish and thus had a privileged childhood and possibly a good dose of literary DNA. Regardless, “Preparation for the Next Life” is a stunning novel and well worth reading.