A WRITER'S WIT
New Yorker Fiction 2016
“He keeps to hand the thick jumper. Tucks the cagoule in by the seat. Takes a brief inventory of the boat. He does not add: One man. One out of two arms. Four out of ten fingers. No paddle. No torch. One dead phone” (77).
Without said paddle he can only count on what he calls the rhythm of the water, perhaps of life—waves and wind that might or might not move him to shore. The more his life is threatened, of course, the more he wants to survive. “Trust the float now. You have to trust the float” (79). Not surprisingly, Jones’ new novel is titled Cove.
Illustration by Emiliano Ponzi
NEXT TIME: My Book World