What makes a writer great? It’s being able to crank out an opening paragraph like this:
“Apart from orgasm, no other natural human function overtakes our mental and physical faculties as thoroughly as a woofing good puke. I recently barfed with such vigor that both my nasal passages became impenetrably jammed with chicken nuggets.”
So shares Michael Perry in “Puking,” one of more than two dozen pieces collected in Danger, Man Working: Writing from the Heart, the Gut, and the Poison Ivy Patch, just published by the Wisconsin Historical Society Press. Most are medium-length essays published over the last 15 years in magazines you don’t subscribe to, like Men’s Health. It’s a welcome addition to the Wisconsin writer’s oeuvre, which also includes the books Population: 485 about being a small-town EMT (adapted for three stage performances this weekend at the Stoughton Opera House), Truck: A Love Story (Perry fixes up a vehicle and falls for a gal), and Visiting Tom, about his vibrant elderly neighbor. He also pens a weekly column for the Wisconsin State Journal.
Perry’s writing is crisp, often funny, self-deprecating in a non-irritating way and, in his best moments, illuminating. His subject is ordinary life, which he makes seem extraordinary. And he’s a darn good reporter. Even the essay on vomiting is deeply informative, filled with EMT anecdotes and quotes from experts; it includes a description how prolonged barfing can cause a collapsed stomach to get sucked into the esophagus — a.k.a. puking your guts out.
In other pieces, Perry profiles country singer Tim McGraw, accompanies war-wounded veterans on an ascent of Mount Rainier, tries his hand at dog sledding (“organic snowmobiling”), observes an autopsy, tours a cryonics facility, and recounts his unfortunate adolescent decision to use poison ivy as toilet paper.
The book’s penultimate essay is about rafting down the Grand Canyon with a group of Christians looking to firm up their belief that the Earth was created in the manner and on the timeline set forth in the Bible. Perry, raised as a fundamentalist and now agnostic, never scoffs at or condescends to his fellow travelers. But he does fault a preacher who makes an unkind crack about a late scientist and admits to growing “weary of the nonstop determination to jam every nook and cranny of this place into conformity with God’s plan as interpreted by man.” In the end, he opts to simply feel humbled by the Grand Canyon.
Michael Perry isn’t just a great writer; he’s also a decent guy, which is more important.
Perry will read from his new book on Saturday, Aug. 19, 11 a.m., at 702WI, 702 E. Johnson St. Seating is limited; tickets are $10 ($20 including book).
