Happy Baby

I picked this up because it made several "best of 2004" lists, and after the first couple chapters/stories, I thought, Hmph, nothing much here but your typical skimpy ("understated"), edgy tales of drugged-out, sex-fringe losers. Another writer just following a certain fashion, I thought. But I kept reading, and I'm so glad I did. The book is brilliant. The material accrues power as you go, even though the prose is so lean and spare. Because of the reverse chronology (in each story the main character is a little younger), you'd think the plot would be spoiled, but the heartbreak you feel for this character just deepens and deepens as you get to see what made him into the man you first encounter. It's not a gimmick--it's told in just the right order. As a plus, the author's evocation of Chicago is perfectly detailed. The story captures the abuse and neglect which are a hidden but too common aspect of our society. It really challenged my perspective and even made me burn to see some changes in the way we deal with problem kids. Excellent work.

Written by Katherine Darnell, of small spiral notebookHappy Baby by Stephen Elliott is a piercing novel, unflinchingly narrated by a young man named Theo, a former Ward of the Court in the state of Illinois. Theo's life is one of continual movement and instability. He travels from bad group homes to abusive detention centers to dangerous schools; everywhere he goes, slipping through another crack, forsaken by another figure of authority. Guards both abuse and protect Theo, and caseworkers ask, "So how are they treating you?" without really caring to hear the answer. Despite an astoundingly complicated superstructure of State bureaucracy, Theo is resoundingly alone in the world. Elliott creates an overwhelmingly bleak world, but with his brilliant, achingly sparse brushstrokes, he is able to portray this world without resorting to over-effect. Theo and his compatriots' emotions and surroundings are written evocatively, without any sense of having been overwritten or belabored.The strength of Elliott's language coupled with his clear affection for Theo makes the story soar. Elliott's tale is Dickensian in its themes of wayward childhood horror, abandonment, and artful darkness. Elliott has constructed a narrative that travels from the present into the past; each chapter (which is somewhat akin to a self-contained story) slips gently into the period of time just before that of the previous one. Elliott's genius lies in his ability to convey enough information in the preceding chapters so that the story flows gracefully, with everything coming together neatly. It would be very easy for Elliott to rely on the cleverness of the technique rather than forcing the story to stand on its own merits. But fortunately Elliott is a writer with enough talent that he completely avoids this type of literary laxity, and he creates something altogether original and incredibly powerful with the reverse-narrative technique. The effect of moving backwards in time makes the novel all the more resonant; as the reader travels into Theo's formative years, we know all too clearly the emotional havoc that was wreaked in their wake.Theo's youth inside the bureaucracy of the Illinois Department of Children and Family Services is a disaster. The facilities are grim, the employees are either negligent or sadistic, and the rare caring adult never lasts very long. His parents are both dead, which leaves him no other option. Theo finds love with a girl named Maria who arrives on the scene wearing innocent pink, initially possessing a charming, furtive naivety. Yet soon Theo realizes that Maria is overwhelmingly haunted by past abuses, and she craves a measure of pain and mistreatment that Theo refuses to deliver. After Maria sinks into the dark recesses of Chicago with a brutal man named Joe, Theo marries a woman named Zahava who cheats on him. Theo is aware of her infidelities, yet because of his neediness and familiarity with mistreatment, he does little to confront this situatio

Stephen Elliott really hits the mark with Happy Baby. It is a horribly honest and self-effacing look at the torment one man (and the folks in his life) have gone through having been abandoned in the Chicago juvenile care system. All throughout the story, Elliott speaks honestly and beautifully, exposing his most vulnerable side in an eloquent way:"He would come and get me about once a week; I never knew exactly when. I'd wait in my room for him. I remember Mr. Gracie's hands closing around my neck, how I couldn't breathe, and then how I didn't want to breathe. I remember how his body felt warm on my back and how, when he pulled away from me, I felt exposed, as if somebody had yanked a blanket off me."The story is heavy and will linger with you. Fans of Augusten Burroughs will see some similarities here, but don't expect any laughter (or very little.) The novel is both story-driven and literary. Worth the price.

Happy Baby is vigorous and exquisite. The language is sure-footed, lyrical, and demanding. Our narrator Theo, seemingly steadfast through uncertainty, consistently allows us to look under his bed, in his closets, and deep into his heart. Elliott's true feat was creating a novel where important and delicate subject matters are accessible to all types of readers. Happy Baby is simply a really good book.

There are moments in Happy Baby that I keep thinking about . The three kids standing back to back to back in the eye of a riot. The two lovers arguing quietly over who must do what to whom. The chance conversation with the man who hurt Theo as a child, all those years ago.And moments, too, that I almost didn't want to read, except the voice carried me through-a confident voice that keeps you reading even as it does not hesitate to say some terrible things few writers ever say. I don't know if it's those juxtapositions or the tiny details or the rhythm of the language, but I read this book without stopping. It's a book I feel like I somehow keep reading even if it's been weeks since I last closed it shut.